#no idea what the status of it is and I’m afraid to ask

[woundedheartwithin]

According to my insurance, appealing a denied claim can result in two different outcomes:

❌ appeal granted and claim approved in app

❌ appeal denied and letter sent in mail

✅ secret third thing (appeal and claim both ignored entirely)

[postmoe]

In the Next Moment:

Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader

I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!

omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum

.

What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.

              In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.

              “This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”

              “How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.

              It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.

              Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.

              He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”

              Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, “B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”

              You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”

              Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.

              Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.

              Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.

.

“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.

              Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”

              It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”

              His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”

              He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”

              Flirting?! Definitely a joke.

              Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”

              “Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”

              The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”

              “Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“

              Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”

              Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”

              “Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”

              … You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”

.

The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”

              Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”

              You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”

              “Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.

              Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”

              He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.

              Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”

              Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”

              His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”

              This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”

              Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”

              Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”

              “I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”

              You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.

.

That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.

              Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”

              What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”

              To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”

              You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.

              This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”

              Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.

…

“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.

              He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

              You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”

              “Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.

              With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”

              He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”

              As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ���date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?

              “Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”

              Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?

              Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”

              Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.

              “Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”

              You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.

              Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”

              It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”

The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.

              Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.

              The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”

              You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?

              “You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”

              Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“

              “It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.

              Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”          

              Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”

              You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”

              Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”

              Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”

              “When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.

              “Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.

              Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”

              You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

              “I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”

              “Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.

              Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”

              To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”

              His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”

.

Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”

              Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”

              He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”

              You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.

He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”

You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.

..

How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.

              You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.

              The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.

              ‘Why not just kill yourself?’

              You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.

              However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.

              Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.

              You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”

              Silence.

              You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.

              Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.

              Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.

              One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.

              This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.

              There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.

              All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.

              You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.

              It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.

              You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.

              As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.

              Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.

              Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”

              His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.

              Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

.

You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”

              Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”

              Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”

              “I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”

              A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”

              What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”

              The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”

              You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”

              Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”

              He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”

              You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”

              “Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”

.

By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.

              He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“

              “-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”

              With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.

              You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.

              But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.

              The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.

              It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”

              It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”

              A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”

              He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.

              It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.

              The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”

              You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”

              Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.

              Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”

              There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”

              Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”

              A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.

              You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”

              Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”

              He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”

              It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”

              “Dead? Yes.”

              You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.

              Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”

              The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”

              “Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”

              Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”

              “Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“

              Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.

              He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”

              Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.

[tsuvvy]

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 5

Poison Constriction

Cassandra explores her feelings of having a new little sibling while the others work to get information on where the seemingly invisible father might be. Instead, they find someone heavily involved in this situation and discover a disgusting truth.

Warning: Talk of a controlling serum being put into y/ns blood, mentions of bruising and blood, the poison serum has been an idea cultivating in my mind for awhile, pls just let it cook 😥

Word Count: 3.4k

“Miss Cassandra,” Said woman turned around, seeing Alfred with a tray of little sandwiches. No doubt for you. “While I have you here, Master Bruce asked to see you. He is paying the garden a visit, he asked that if I should see you I should invite you for him.”

“Oh..” Cassandra’s lips parted in a small surprise. Bruce wanted to see her? Why? “Okay, thank you Alfred.” She gave the man a soft thankful smile.

Alfred returned the smile with a gentle one of his own. But before he could walk away, Cassandra spoke up.

“He didn’t say why, did he?” She asked abruptly.

“I am afraid not,” His soft smile turned a bit apologetic.

“Alright, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Thank you again.” Alfred gave her a nod before walking away.

Cassandra stayed where she was for a moment, watching as Alfred walked down the hall with the tray still in hand. She might have needed a moment to build up the courage to go speak to Bruce, or maybe she needed to come up with what she would say to the man. Either way, her nerves were aflame before and while she made her way to the garden where Alfred said Bruce was.

She spotted him on a bench. He was calmly sitting still, almost mistakable for a statue.

Bruce looked at Cassandra, an uncharacteristic subtle smile reaching his lips at the sight of her. It was odd, even if it was common. Bruce saved that smile for only those he cared for deeply. His adoptive children and Alfred getting it most often. Though it was still rare, especially for someone like Jason who made it his own part time job annoying and angering the man. Dying and coming back to life sure didn’t change that habit, if anything it made it worse.

“Cass,” Bruce called out, pulling her out of her thoughts, “Sit.” He didn’t need to gesture to the empty spot next to him.

Cassandra listened. She moved to sit next to the man.

The two sat in silence for a while; silently watching over the flowers and listening to the soft wind and how it would shake the branches of the trees.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked abruptly. Cassandra looked at him, staying silent for a second.

“I’m okay..” Her voice was soft as she looked to the ground.

Bruce nodded slightly at her comment. “But that isn’t true, is it?” He looked down at her, his subtle smile gone now. It was never a luxury anyone close to him could ever witness for a very long time. You had to savor it for the small amount of time it was there.

Cassandra didn’t say anything to his comment. He already knew her lies were just that, lies.

“How are you feeling about everything?” He asked instead.

Cassandra thought about his question for a second. “I don’t really know how to feel.”

“Understandable.” Bruce responded.

The two sat in silence for a little while.

“Y/n,” She looked up at him, and he looked back, confusion written subtly on his stoic face, “Their name.” Cassandra clarified. She saw his eyes widen slightly, “Their name is Y/n.”

“When did they tell you this?” He asked.

“They got out of the room, they picked the lock when Damian wasn’t there,” She told him while turning back to look out at the flowers and delicately crafted and cut bushes. “They weren’t looking for a fight, pretty much all we did was.. Talk,” She shrugged her shoulders lightly, “They asked why I’d left David, and…” She paused.

Bruce gave her a second before pressing her to continue, “and?”

“And they.. I told them they were safe. They didn’t know what it meant. So I. I taught them what the word safe means. And they told me their name.

Bruce nodded his head lightly, turning to look at the flowers and bushes himself.

“That's a start, they’re starting to trust you and Damian a bit, however surprising it may be.” Bruce said. He lifted up a hand and gently placed it on Cassandra’s head. “You did good, Cassandra.”

Her eyes widened at the contact and the praise. In a sense, she was still a lot like you. No matter how long she’s been with Bruce and the Batfamily, she might not ever get truly used to being in a healthy environment. Not fully, anyway.

“Bruce…” Her voice was soft. He didn’t do anything to tell her he acknowledged his name slipping from her lips, but she knew he was listening. “I don’t..” She hesitated, “I don’t know how to be a big sister..”

Silence overtook the two, apart from the gentle wind rustling the nature around them.

“It’s not something you can just know, Cassandra.” He told her. Cassandra didn’t respond to that.

A silence once again overtook the two.

“There's this feeling in my gut, like a weed growing in it.” Cassandra abruptly spoke through the silence.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him for a year!?” Jason yelled.

“Red Hood calm down!” Kate yelled at him.

The two were at Ace Chemicals in their vigilante suits. They hadn’t expected to find someone that has been involved with David in the past.

“I mean exactly that!” The guy yelled, a desperation in his voice as the Red Hood shook him by the collar of his shirt. After his statement, the vigilante dropped him and he fell to the ground.

The man rubbed his neck, trying to soothe the pain of how his shirt was so tightly held.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Kate, or Batwoman, asked him.

“No, he just straight up vanished,” the guy said.

Batwoman looked to Red Hood who had taken a few steps back.

“Mind if we look around?” Batwoman looked back at the man.

“N-No! Go ahead!” He quickly answered, almost fearful of what either vigilante might do to him if he said he did actually mind.

“Great,” Batwoman answered, “Glad you don’t.” She commented, an amused smirk on her face as she moved past him.

She started looking around; not that she had anywhere to specifically start.

And for the first about 14 minutes, nothing was found by either vigilante.

“This place has nothing,” Jason said, making sure to keep the man he was once interrogating in his view.

“It’s gotta have something,” Batwoman sighed, looking behind a few tubs of chemicals. She hadn’t met you yet. All she knew about you was pretty much the extent of what everyone else minus Cass knew.

Red Hood crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance as he looked at a few jars on some random desk. They looked poisonous. Probably gas too. One wiff would probably kill you.

“I’m gonna check further in,” Batwoman said, coming back out from behind the tubs of chemicals she had found nothing out of the ordinary behind. “Stay with him,” She told Red Hood.

“Yeah, alright,” He said.

Batwoman began walking into a back area of Ace Chemicals. There was a door into one room and then stairs leading upward to a few more rooms that were all next to each other.

She decided to go into the room on the bottom first.

Batwoman cautiously turned the rusty old knob, keeping her guard up. Ace Chemicals is known for criminal activity, I mean, it’s quite literally the birth place of Harley Quinn. It’s where Joker had pushed her into that vatt of chemicals all those years ago. You had to expect anything in this place.

“Ugh,” Batwoman cringed, bringing a hand to her nose, “Jeez, it smells like three month old eggs in here.”

She stepped into the room, keeping a hand over her nose as she began to look around.

There was really nothing to note in the room. It was obviously some type of hang out area no one had been in in probably years. A lounging couch that stank of rat poop and an assortment of other things that were just rotting under the cusions. Then there was a counter with a sink. One that had piles of dirty dishes in it. She had found a few rats licking off the plates; she didn’t bother them, but she did cringe. Then the fridge. She didn’t even want to open the thing. She could already tell that’s where the smell was coming from. And sure enough, inside the fridge was a variety of disgusting, old, moldy, and rotted food inside.

“Don’t think Kelsey is gonna want this muffin anymore,” Batwoman commented, looking at the container with a chocolate chip muffin inside and branded with the name Kelsey on the lid of the container. It was all moldy and gross.

“Blegh,” Batwoman gagged, closing the fridge with her foot.

She looked in the old wooden cabinets, behind and under the tables. Everywhere she looked, nothing but rats and their feces and disgusting bugs were found.

“Well that was a waste,” She grumbled as she walked out of that room, closing the door behind her. Now it was time to look in the two rooms upstairs.

Batwoman walked up the stairs, deciding to go to the first room. She read the plate next to the door that read, ‘lab room.’

“This should be fun,” She sighed, opening the door and cautiously peeking in and looking around. From first glance, there didn’t look to be anything in here of note. “This better not be a waste of time,” She grumbled as she stepped in.

“Alright, I brought a new kind of food this time.” Damian said as he entered the room.

You hadn't turned to look at him from where you sat kneeled on the floor, your head resting on your arms that rested on the window sill.

Damian didn't move, you knew he didn't. There weren't any footsteps coming farther into the room.

“What are you doing?” He asked, and you finally heard him start walking, and soon you heard something being placed on the nightstand.

“Out.” You said, finally turning to look at the boy and raising one of your hands to tap on the window. He was standing staring at you near your nightstand, his hands in his pockets.

“Outside?” He questioned as he finally started moving throughout the room closer to you.

You had turned back to look out the window once more once he was standing at your side.

Damian's gaze rested downward on you. You looked so calm staring out the windows. Though your blank face looked as if you were displeased, he knew you weren't. He was the same way with his own blank face.

“What that?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by your voice. He looked at what you were looking out the window at.

Your pointer finger which rested against the window pointed towards two creatures in the air, gracefully maneuvering through the gentle breeze.

“Birds,” Damian said bluntly. “They’re birds.”

You looked up at the boy, “Bi..” You paused, unsure of if you were going to say it correctly or not.

“Birds.” He said one more time. “They’re flying.”

“Bird.” You finally attempted.

“Mhm,” he nodded.

You looked out the window once more. Watching the birds fly through the air. “Want that.” You said.

“Want that?” Damian repeated in the form of a question.

You nodded, “Want that.” You pointed to the bird.

Damian wasn’t quite sure if you meant you wanted a bird or if you wanted what the birds had. Freedom.

“Bird is…” You paused, watching the bird in awe.

“Pretty?” Damian questioned after a few seconds of silence. You nodded.

“Yeah..” He agreed softly, looking away from you and out the window at the birds again. “They are.”

“Dami.” His eyes widened a bit and he looked down at you again. Dami? Dami..? You were looking up at him, your face a blank one like his.

“Yeah..?” He managed to ask.

You pointed to the free spot on the floor next to you. “Sit.” You told him. Not in a commanding way like most would hear from your tone. He knew you didn’t mean it like that.

He listened and sat down on the floor next to you.

For you to actually invite him to sit next to you, and so close, was honestly a big step. He noticed you’d opened up a bit quickly with him, but he assumed it was because of the age difference between the two of you. There wasn’t really a big one.

“Dad..” You said softly. He looked to you, waiting to see where you would go with this, “You hate him.” It was more of a statement than a question. You didn’t look at him. You had rested your chin back down on your arms that rested on the window sill.

Damian stayed quiet, keeping his gaze on you for a moment before letting it drop down to the surface of the window sill and then out the window. “Yeah.” He answered. Though he knew you already knew that. “I do.”

A quiet fell over the room. The two of you staring out the window.

“He scares me…” You admitted.

He looked at you. Your expression, still blank, had grown a bit more solemn. Like a little puppy that had just been yelled at or hit for just trying to get love or have a bit of fun. It broke him to see you like this. So young and yet already so broken and wounded.

“Ugh,” Batwoman groaned as she walked out of the room she had just been looking in. “Theres nothing in this disgusting dump..” She grumbled, looking down at all of the chemical pits and barrels that Ace Chemicals held. “I doubt there’s anything actually here all these chemicals haven’t hidden.” She sighed, now making her way down the stares and back the way she came.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap!” Red Hood exclaimed. Batwoman started walking a bit faster, hoping to get there before he would probably kill the guy the two found.

“Please, please,” The man cried desperately, “The guy is going to kill me!”

Batwoman was met with a familiar scene. Red Hood holding the man in the air the collar of his shirt. But this time, the man’s face was bloodied. Blood ran down from his nose, he had a busted lip that was bleeding, and an array of cuts on his face.

“Red Hood!” Batwoman yelled, “What the hell are you doing!?”

“Tell me!” Red Hood yelled, shaking the man within the air. Tears were bubbling in the guy’s eyes.

“He.. He’ll kill me!” The man repeated. Red Hood scoffed.

“And if you don’t tell me what the hell you know, I’ll kill you!” He told the man, his red helmet growing an eary and angry sense to it.

“Fine! Fine!” The man screamed, his legs flailing around in the air, “Please, I’ll tell you! Just put me down!”

“Red Hood put him down!” Batwoman demanded.

Jason dropped the man, letting him fall to floor with a thud.

“Well,” Red Hood demanded himself, looking down at the man on the floor, “Go on!”

The man winced at his commanding and angry tone, “The guy you’re looking for. Cain or whatever.” His voice was shaking in fear, and he was looking down at the floor in shame. Of himself, or maybe something else. “He came here a few months ago after his disappearance. Vanished for about 3 months, came to me. He had some..” He sounded unsure. “He was asking for some weird stuff,” he shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Said he needed it for some project, I didn’t ask what. But he did have this weird sense of pride to him. One he never usually had.”

“Can you get to the damn point!” Red Hood demanded.

“Hey,” Batwoman said sternly, “Let him speak.”

The man recieved a nod from Batwoman, telling him to go on. “Cain wanted some type of like.. Serum. Said it needed to enhance and quicken the development of metahuman abilities. Then he had a thought to make another serum that would make someone more…” The man paused and sighed loudly, “Hell, I’ll just say it. More easily manipulable.”

Batwoman and Red Hood stood silent for a moment. Batwoman’s lips parted as she took in the information, and her eyes widened behind her domino mask. The two vigilante’s exchanged a glance.

“Hey,” Batwoman started, looking towards the man.

“Y-Yeah?” He looked back, a bit nervous of what might happen to him.

“Do you have any samples or spares of that?” She asked.

The man sat for a second.

“Well!” Jason exclaimed, making the man jump.

“Yes! Yes, I do!” The man scrambled to his feet, walking to a station a little ways away behind some tubs of chemicals with the two vigilantes close behind him.

“Damnit..” The man muttered as he scrounged around in the desk, throwing papers and gadgets sloppily in his hunt for the serum. “Here!” He announced, pulling out a green liquid serum in a small tube. He handed it to Batwoman.

“Not a lot, huh.” She commented, swishing the liquid around in the enclosed tube.

“Sorry,” He apologized, his expression growing a bit solemn, “I tried to save at least a bit, but. The recipe was tricky.” He began to scrounge through the desk once more before pulling out a paper with sloppy handwriting on it. “The ingredients were hard and illegal to get, then the only perfected batch he took immediately. It was hard to even steal that tiny bit out of it.” He handed the paper to Batwoman as well. “That’s the recipe for it.”

“Alright.” She nodded, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away with Red Hood next to her.

Batwoman stopped however, turning to look at the man and Red Hood went ahead, “C’mon (nickname).” She said, gesturing her head for him to follow and speaking like it was the obvious that he come along.

“Huh..?” His brows furrowed.

“Hurry it up!” Batwoman called. “You have vital information about this stupid serum and we can’t have you getting caught by the wrong people.” The man was startled into pace. He began to catch up with the vigilantes, still confused and quite bewildered by what the hell is happening.

“Damn, this just keeps getting messier and messier..” TIm groaned, running a hand along his face and moving it up to run through his hair. He was tired, anyone could tell at a glance. “Alright, give it here.” He spoke, putting a hand out to take the serum from Batwoman. “Who’s the straggler?” He asked as he got up and walked towards a machine.

“Hm,” Batwoman turned to look over her shoulder at the man.

“Um.. My name is Sullivan Bishop.” He answered her unsaid question.

“He’s got connections with Cain. Helped him make the serum.” She said as she crossed her arms, watching Tim carefully pour the bit of serum into a compartment of the machine and clicking a few buttons. Soon, it started up and started analyzing the liquid.

“Do you know what he used the serum for?” Sullivan asked. Everyone was silent. Sullivan visibly curled in on himself in defeat. He was terrified. He was in the batcave, surely not going to be let out anytime soon. And he was so lost. He had no clue what was happening. He’d never wanted to get involved with Cain to begin with. He knew he was shady, knew that Cain would get him in trouble. But this? This serum that was testing positive for countless things on the Batcomputer. This serum that could be considered a poison.

This was beyond anything shady he’d heard or expected from Cain. Whatever he used this serum for was downright psychotic.

Tim stared up at the computer, honestly at a loss for words.

“What the hell did you use?” Tim’s voice was breathless. But the look he gave to Sullivan sent chills down the man’s spine. “Toluene, lead..” His voice trailed off. “No wonder the kid was so set in killing Cassandra. This serum makes it so she can’t think for herself.”

“What the hell..” Red Hood’s voice trailed off.

“We can only imagine how long this was being administered into her blood stream.” Tim finished.

“I..” Sullivan’s eyes bubbled with tears, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know.. I… I didn’t know what he would use it for. I… Please I. I didn’t know..” He was rambling.

“You didn’t know?” Jason questioned, his tone growing angry and threatening.

“N.. No. No I didn’t I promise!!” Sullivan’s waorks were jumblings up as they tumbled from his mouth in fear of what Red Hood might do.

“Red Hood!” Batwoman stopped him from walking toward the shaking man with a hand on his chest, “Take a walk.” She made eye contact with him through his helmet when she ordered him.

<- Chapter 4 Chapter 6 ->

@redh00dsbf @02006 @shikanosn @rainnyydaysworld @notsaelty

[blackbat05]

Open Up

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: With a little help, you overcome your internal prejudice with an enigmatic patron.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Had another writer’s block so really thankful for @the-slumberparty events as always! This is yet another of my self-indulgent pieces but I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the unwavering support!❤️

************************************************

My choices:

🍧Mint Chocolate: the loner – mint chocolate is an acquired taste, so it is that one of your characters is of a similar flavour. A loner is brought out of their shell. 

🥄Cherries: meet-cute – this can be fluffy or a stereotypical first meeting gone wrong 

“It’s him again!” Miriam, the librarian whispers into my ear as I’m shelving back each book to its rightful place. I carefully climb down from the stool and observe the same man with a streak of white hair and an impressive physique to boot select another book from the Literature section.

Though a frequent visitor of the library, he was a lone wolf. Unlike patrons who greeted each other or strike up conversations, he was a lone wolf. No mingling, just quiet reading for two hours and he was out of the library to only be back the next day with the same routine. Not that it was an issue. He was easy on the eyes. Scary, but definitely easy on the eyes.

“If only I was single,” Miriam sighs fondly. “You have no idea what it’s doing to my woman parts.”

“Miriam!” I gasp, completely ignoring for a millisecond that I almost yelled at my supervisor. My supervisor who’s twenty years older but way cooler than I would ever be. She shrugs, “I just said what all women needed to hear.” She moves closer to me, thrusting a book into my hands.

“What is this?” I asked, afraid to hear her answer.

“Conversational material.” Miriam gently pushes me in the direction where our most frequent patron of the Gotham Public Library has disappeared to. “I got the circulation desk covered.” She winks and I’m not sure if regret ever sharing with her my relationship status that was as dead as a slug.

I walked towards the literature section and made my way further down to the sitting area beside the huge glass windows that stretched towards the ceiling, allowing natural light to give a warm glow to the area.

There he was, sitting casually on the maroon sofa, book in one hand and completely oblivious to the world around him.

I’m rooted to the ground, mesmerized at how his emerald eyes skim through each page carefully, capturing the essence of each word. I nearly fall into a stupor just watching this man when he suddenly closes the book and stares straight at me.

I give a squeak and my cheeks heat up. I must look like a creep to him. My brain tells me to get away from there and pretend that nothing ever happened but my feet are unsurprisingly stubborn. The man stands up to full height and my heart races a beat quicker with each step he takes closer to me.

Quick, come up with a good excuse so that he doesn’t chew you out and humiliate you for the rest of your life!

Before I can defend myself, he beats me to the punch. Not in the way that I expected.

“Hi, you’re the librarian right?”

I’m stunned for a second and have to mentally slap myself back into reality.

“Yeah! Actually, library assistant. How can I help you?” My words come out in a nervous blur and I bite the inside of my cheeks. So much for keeping my cool in front of a mysteriously handsome guy.

“Well, I was wondering if you had any good recommendations. I’ve blitzed through entire sections and re-reading Jane Austen for the fifth time isn’t exactly therapeutic.” His chuckle causes my heart to skip a beat.

“Oh darn, the reading block huh? Well there’s no such thing as that- I mean grammar wise, but I totally know how you feel, how about we go this way?” I direct him to the other section.

“It’s still Literature but it’s written by authors from different countries, different genders and colors.” I explain. “I always like to say that books widen your worldview.” I ramble, unaware of his green eyes piercing intensely into mine.

“Sorry,” I squeak sheepishly. “Am I talking too much? I’ll leave you to it.” I’m about to scurry away and possibly find a corner to die of embarrassment when he holds my wrist gently but firmly.

“I like it.” He gives me a smile that makes my belly do a couple of backflips. “Do you think you could recommend me one to start off?” His request is simple but so genuine that despite his intimidating appearance, I can’t help but to be drawn to this lone wolf that comes to the library every evening.

“Sure. How about Welcome to the Hyunnam-dong Bookshop?” I suggest. “I read it while I was feeling a little lost in life. Kind of a comfort book really.” I carefully pick out a hard cover book and wait with bated breath for his reaction.

He takes the book from me and I notice the scars on his hand are plenty - some superficial, some deep. I’m curious, but I know it’s not my place to pry. After all, the library is a safe place for everyone to be themselves.

Eyes quickly scanning through the summary of the book, he flips the books to the front and stares at it for a few more seconds before coming to a decision.

“It’s perfect.”

***

I learn that his name is Jason.

The next couple of days are no different. He comes in at exactly six on the dot in the evenings. He’ll wait for me patiently if I’m occupied with a patron and we’ll head to one of the many shelves for me to pick out another recommendation. Today was a children’s novel, The Boy At The Back Of The Classroom.

“The author intended to target younger kids as her demographic,” I explain. “But the way she explained the struggles of refugees in a simple yet impactful way through the lenses of a child, was beautiful to read as an adult.”

As always, Jason thanks me for the help. But this time, he doesn’t check the book out at self-help. I’m wondering if he wants more than one book when-

“When do you finish work?”

“Excuse me?” You tilt your head slightly, unsure if you had heard him correctly. Jason coughs to fill the silence and gathers enough courage to repeat his question.

“I was thinking if you don’t have any plans, we could have dinner?” He asks. “I know a place and we could read there. The owner won’t mind.”

My delayed response almost screws everything up when Miriam comes to my rescue.

“Of course she’ll love to! You’ve earned the time off! Go and enjoy your weekend!” She makes a shooing motion and when Jason isn’t looking, she winks at me.

“I’ll love to.” I reaffirm and the delight on his face is absolutely adorable for someone of his stature.

The more I get to know this enigma of a man, I discover more aspects of him that seem to draw me closer like a moth to the flame.

***

I’m usually not like this.

When a book gets my attention, I’ll blitz through chapters at one shot, eager to find out what happens next to the main character.

But I can’t seem to find the focus as I’ve been stuck on the same page of my latest romance novel for ten minutes, taking occasional peeks at the gorgeous man intently reading in front of me. I cover my face with the book, not wanting to appear like a creep when all he wanted was a reading buddy.

I’m starting to get fidgety and I really want to see how his nose scrunches up when he’s engrossed in the material in front of him. How he cracks his right knuckle after every chapter. How he smiles and frowns at the joy and injustices the character faces.

What I didn’t expect to see was Jason fondly watching me as I supposedly attempted to read my own book. My cheeks heat up at the sudden attention.

“Do I have something on my face?” I ask.

“You’re pretty when you’re reading.” Jason says as a matter of fact, ignoring my question. I’m sure that I’m flaming red as a tomato but this only causes him to break into a boyish grin. I’m at a loss so I end up putting the book back in front of my face, earning a chuckle from him.

He reaches out and takes the book out of my hands, putting it aside.

“Do you know why I’ve read Austen five times?”

I shrug. “I thought you just really liked the book. Predictability brings comfort. Knowing how the story ends.”

Jason shakes his head. “I was hoping you would come over and help a guy out. But I guess I was too afraid. I didn’t want to scare you. Most people don’t approach someone like me for a casual conversation.” He gestures and a pang of guilt hits me for immediately stereotyping him during my first encounter.

“I guess that makes two of us.” I say. “I was amazed at your extensive reading choices and I can’t deny that I’ve been trying to work up my courage to talk to the handsome patron at aisle eighteen.”

Jason’s eyes twinkles at my sudden confession. The man in front of me is no longer the big, scary lone wolf. All I see is a man who has come to seek for genuine human connection in the form of art. A man who is sensitive and hopes that someone would be able to embrace his vulnerability.

I know this because that is what I have been looking for all this time.

The owner reminds us that the cafe would be closing soon and we take our leave, walking under the cool spring breeze. On normal days, I wouldn’t be out this late but Jason’s presence is enough to lower my senses to the potential dangers that Gotham has to offer.

While exchanging more talks about books, we reach the bottom of my apartment.

“Thank you for the amazing night. I loved it.” I sincerely thank Jason.

He doesn’t move from his spot, fists jammed tightly in the pockets of his hoodie. It’s endearing that Jason doesn’t want to rush things even though he can. Funny for a man that I once considered mysterious is an open book.

For the first time in my life, I decide to take the first steps. I kiss him on the cheek, allowing myself to linger before pulling away to see Jason smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the library?”

“I’ll be there.”

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 12

Warnings: angst, underage drinking, weed, mentions of other drugs, mentions of depression, slut shaming, attempted sexual assault, (reader being kissed, groped and being held forcefully), (she leaves before more can happen) if that makes you feel uncomfortable, you can stop reading this chapter after the moment with Eddie at his trailer!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary: You try to give dating a second chance and quickly come to regret it when you say yes to the wrong boy.

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: shoutout to my bestie @mysticmunson who always always helps me with the best ideas 🤍

series masterlist

-

You feel like time is moving faster than usual. One moment it was the new year and now it’s already the end of march and every day pushes you closer and closer to the last day of high school. You can’t believe that it’s almost over. 

You can’t believe how much has changed in the past six months. 

Had someone told you that you would be graduating without him, a year back, you wouldn’t have believed them. It’s always been you and Steve. No matter how awful he was to you, how badly he treated you, it’s always been you two together. 

You wanted to graduate with him, you wanted to go to college with him or even take a gap year and travel through the country with him – that was the plan. 

But you will graduate without him and you will go to college without him and you will travel without him – he won’t be by your side, he won’t ever be by your side again and you have come to terms with it. You are okay with it, now. 

“Hello?” Robin mumbles, waving her hand in front of your face. 

Blinking, you quirk your brow and look at your friend.

“Huh?”

Robin chuckles at the confused look on your face, she sips on her coffee and scoots closer to you on the bench, reaching for a brownie in the brown paper bag between you two. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

You take a sip of your coffee and avoid looking into her eyes. You’re not about to tell her that you are thinking about your ex boyfriend. 

She chews on her brownie and squints her eyes as she stares at you. 

“Just that I’m going to graduate soon,” you chuckle and look at the lake in front of you. You and Robin decided to spend the afternoon by the lake after getting your favorite treats from the cafe downtown. 

The sun is shining down on you, making your skin feel warm. The water is glistening and you cannot wait to jump into the lake when the weather gets even warmer. 

“Yeah, it’s unfair how you and I just became friends and now you’re already leaving!” 

You chuckle and nod at her words. 

“You should have become friends with Eddie a long time ago!” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, playfully. 

A smile tugs at your lips, “I agree.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“You think?” You ask. 

She nods, her eyes widen, “yeah, I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re super nice and chill but cheerleaders make me nervous and there’s no way I would have ever approached you!”

And that is why she hasn't hung out with you and your friends yet. Despite you telling her how nice they are, she is still too nervous to get to know them properly. 

You can’t help but smirk at her, “why exactly do they make you feel nervous, Robin?” 

She narrows her eyes, glaring at you, which makes you laugh. 

You know that she is into girls, it’s something she has been worried about telling you, too afraid of your reaction. It also didn’t help that you had only known each other for a little while, she didn’t trust you at first but the more she got to know you, the more she realized that you aren’t like the other popular kids at school. You aren’t judgmental or rude or a bully – far from it. When she saw you standing up for Eddie in front of the whole cheer squad and the basketball team, she knew that you are a real friend, you risked your ‘queen’ status and your place in the popular crowd but you didn’t care. 

She didn’t plan on telling you, she blurted it out after having one too many drinks and when she was sober again, she was afraid of your reaction, all the what if’s ran through her mind – what if you will hate her? What if you will out her to the whole school? What if you will laugh and make her the laughing stock of the town? What if you will be disgusted by her? 

She was overthinking. You didn’t give her much of a reaction, in fact, you were chill as always and treated the subject of her sexuality like it was the most normal thing in the world when it definitely isn’t the most normal thing for other people. You went out for breakfast that day and you had asked her who the ‘lucky girl’ is when you found out about her crush, that’s all. 

And since then, you have only gotten closer and closer. 

She blushes at your question, there are two reasons why cheerleaders make her nervous – 1. They are popular and a little mean and 2. They are hot. 

“You know why,” she mumbles and takes a sip of coffee again. 

You giggle, “yeah, yeah. I get it, cheerleaders are hot.” 

“Eddie thinks so too,” she smirks. 

Now it’s your turn to glare at her, “shut up.”

“Oh come on! You tease me, I tease you back! That’s how friendships work, right?”

“Yes,” you say, “but there’s nothing to tease me about.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes, crossing her leg over the other, she leans back and looks up at the blue sky. 

“I saw you two together, lying beneath the starry sky and running around like two teenagers in love,” she says, dreamily. 

You know that she is talking about the bonfire last weekend. 

Shaking your head, you chuckle at her words and roll your eyes. 

“We’re just friends.”

“Friends who slap each other’s butts?” 

“Exactly.”

She looks down and faces you again, studying your face with a curious look in her eyes. She purses her lips and tilts her head. 

“Okay, seriously though, are you just friends or is there more between you two?” She asks, genuinely. Robin watches the way your brows furrow and the way confusion flashes in your eyes. For a split second, you look lost. 

You hesitate. 

“Yeah, just friends.”

She waits for you to continue, she can tell that you want to say more. 

“But, it’s like, he’s a special friend, you know?” 

Her eyes widen when she sees the flustered look on your face, she slaps your shoulder, “friends with benefits?” She gasps, loudly. 

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as well, “no!” You almost scream, slapping her shoulder back, “you perv! Why is your mind going there?”

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Robin laughs, pushing your hand away. “You two are pretty touchy though so can you even blame me for asking that?”

No. No, you can’t blame her. 

Robin has walked in on you cuddling with Eddie way too many times. He casually takes your hand and intertwines your fingers together. He kisses your forehead, your temple, your cheeks, your hands. He picks you up and drives you home. You sleep in each other’s beds and go on ‘friends’ dates. But, you are friends. 

“I get what you mean,” you mumble. You know what your friendship with Eddie looks like to other people. Your mom thinks you’re dating and so does Steve’s mom and the rest of the town as it seems. “Eddie is very special to me and I love him but differently, not the way I loved him.” You shrug, looking down at your hands. You touch the rings that he gave you. “Things with Eddie just feel natural and good and I feel so safe with him, you know? I-I feel like he was a missing piece in my life because when he walked in, everything just felt better and it’s nice to know that he doesn’t expect anything from me, that what we have now, is enough.” 

Robin’s eyes soften. 

“We can just be together, you know?” 

She smiles at your words. 

“And us being so touchy is just,” you pause, looking for the right word. “Fun? I think we both craved the intimacy and the touch of another person. I never got it from Steve.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, he always pushed me away. He hated cuddling, he never held me, he hated holding my hand. His kisses were rough and he always pushed me away after we had.. sex.”

She frowns. She isn’t surprised to hear about how awful he was to you but it upsets her, you deserve better. 

“What a jerk.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was pretty messed up when he dumped me, I felt miserable and I was so fucking depressed. I shouldn’t have been, he treated me like shit but I still loved him and I still wanted him and if he came back right away, I would’ve definitely taken him back,” you snort, feeling embarrassed to admit that. “But Eddie came into my life and he was just there, he showed me that I didn’t need him. He showed me that friendships and finding other things that make you happy can be enough.”

Robin can tell that there is more behind your words. Nothing will ever replace the hole that someone you loved so much had left in your heart.

“Eddie makes me happy and I just love what we have. He is not like my other friends but he is not like a boyfriend either. I-I can’t explain it.”

Robin sighs but she smiles at you, “maybe you’re soulmates – platonic soulmates!” 

You raise your brows and laugh. 

“I’m sorry if you don’t believe in that stuff but I’m a total believer when it comes to soulmates and twin flames and whatnot.”

“Me too, Robin.”

“Cool,” she grins. 

“Yeah, cool.” You laugh, wiggling your brows, “now we gotta find your platonic soulmate.”

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “they probably don’t exist.”

“Oh, I’m sure they exist,” you say, “I’m sure they’re around here. Maybe both of them are! Your platonic and romantic soulmate.” You smile. 

“I don’t believe that,” she says, blushing. 

“But I do. I got a sneaky feeling that you might find them both soon,” you say, not knowing that there is the actual truth behind your words. 

You look at the lake in front of you, your mind tries to take you back to all your moments here with him but you force yourself to think of something else, someone else, anything that will stop you from thinking about him. 

“Hey,” you nudge her shoulder, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You hesitate again, not knowing whether it’s worth bringing it up or not. 

“So uh, last weekend, at the bonfire, this guy asked me out on a date. He called me earlier today and asked if I wanna go out with him tomorrow night but I said that I’m not sure, he sounded disappointed and told me to think about it and that he will wait for my call and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you mumble, “he used to go to our school, his name is Ray.”

“Okay,” she says, slowly, “why are you not sure?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if I wanna go out with him.”

She wants to ask who you really want to go out with but she doesn’t. 

“You’re not into him?” Robin asks, her blue eyes are filled with curiosity. 

“I mean, he’s hot but I don’t really wanna date anyone right now and I don’t want to have sex.” 

Robin scrunches her face up, looking a little confused. 

“You don’t have to have sex with him and you don’t have to date him.”

“Yeah but they always want sex,” you mumble. 

Disgust flashes in her eyes and she shudders, “do they?”

“Yeah, same with Steve.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean we have known each other our whole lives so maybe it’s not that serious when it comes to him but we had sex on our first date,” you pause, rolling your eyes, “and every girl I talk to tells me that every guy expects to get laid on a first date so..”

“Gross,” she says, sipping on her coffee. 

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. A date can be fun, you can just get to know each other and see if you hit it off, you can laugh together and flirt, do something fun that doesn’t involve kissing or fucking! And a person who is looking for a partner or even just for a companion, won’t want to fuck on a first date,” she says without thinking about her words. 

You don’t know why her words hurt, you don’t hang onto him anymore but to think that he never wanted to date you, that he only wanted to fuck you cuts you deep. Was that all you were good for, sex? Is that why he kept you around, so he could fuck you and take his frustrations out on you? Is that why it was so easy for him to dump you? When he found out that he could have both love & sex, he realized that you were no longer useful to him? 

And it’s not just Steve who made you feel that way, there’s plenty of guys who have tried to get in your pants, before, during and after your relationship with him. Billy Hargrove has to be the worst of them all. 

Her words lingered for the rest of the day, you know that she didn’t mean any harm but it brought back questions that you have always avoided to think about when you were still with him. 

She didn’t notice the sad look in your eyes, too busy trying to convince you to go on a date and have some ‘innocent fun’. You agreed with her, maybe it’s what you really need, some innocent fun. 

You went home after dropping her off, you cleaned your room and you took a long shower, contemplating whether to call or not call him. You tried reading a book but you kept looking at the telephone. 

A part of you wanted to go on that date, the other part was just curious to see how it would all play out. 

In the end, you called him and said yes to the date, he seemed excited and that put a smile on your face but you couldn’t help but feel the hesitation of going out with a guy you are not even that interested in. You had a weird feeling in your chest and in your stomach. 

Something felt off, something felt wrong, very wrong. 

But you were never good at listening to your gut. 

You were good at overthinking though and your mind kept taking you back to him and you couldn’t stand it, you needed a distraction. That’s how you ended up here, on Eddie’s bed with a joint between your lips and a lazy smile on your face. 

The room smells like weed, the cinnamon candle that you have put on his desk and him. The faint sound of some rock song fills the silence, surprisingly he keeps his music on the low today. Eddie is sitting on his chair, writing something in his notebook, something he won’t let you see. His brows are furrowed, lips tucked beneath his teeth, he looks concentrated. 

“What are you writing, Eddie?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your knees, offering him the joint. Instead of taking it from your fingers, he leans closer to you and parts his lips. 

You chuckle and place it between his lips. 

He looks into your eyes, amusement flashes in them when he notices you biting your lip. He takes a drag and closes his eyes for a moment as he inhales. You watch him and remove the joint. You lick your lips, pulling away from him to place the joint in the ashtray on his nightstand. 

Your mind feels hazy, maybe a little too hazy but this is exactly what you wanted. 

Eddie blows the smoke into the air and leans back again, he studies your face. Right now, you look calm and relaxed but you looked tense and worried when you got here, he wonders why. 

“So?” You ask, still waiting for an answer. 

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes shift away from you, he glances down at his noteback before his eyes meet yours again, “it’s a secret, sweetheart,” he winks.

“Eddie,” you whine, rolling your eyes, “I thought we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

You know it’s nothing serious so you don’t get upset, you could never be upset with him. 

“It’s not exactly a secret, just something I don’t want to show you yet,” he says, smiling. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Well then, I can relax,” you giggle and lie back again. 

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. He looks back down at his notebook, holding his pen tighter. He looks at the words on the white paper, tilting his head. His eyes flicker back and forth, looking at you and at the unfinished text.

You hum along to the song playing in the background, tapping your fingers against the mattress. You look around his room, eyeing every item as though it’s your first time in here. Your eyes get stuck on the handcuffs adorning the wall. A curious look takes over your face. You have asked him about them before and you felt slightly disappointed when you found out that those aren’t from him being arrested and running away, these are just handcuffs he stole from the equipment at the theater room in school. 

You reach for the joint and take a long drag, letting the smoke invade your lungs slowly. You sit up, still eying the handcuffs. 

Eddie wonders what you are thinking about. He puts the notebook down, propping his elbow against the table as he watches you, curiously. 

“You know what I always wondered?”

“What?” He asks. 

“What it’s like to be a criminal,” you say, giggling. 

He raises his brows in surprise, clearly not expecting this. 

“I kinda wanna know what it’s like to get arrested forcefully, being thrown to the ground and getting handcuffed like in those action movies,” you say as you tilt your head, “I wouldn’t mind getting arrested by Jim Hopper, he’s so hot,” you giggle. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh. You aren’t just joking about being cuffed, you are genuinely curious and he is amused by it. An idea crosses his mind and it doesn’t take him long to get into action, he gets up and walks over to the handcuffs, taking them off the wall, he looks at you with a smirk on his face. 

“You wanna know what it’s like to be cuffed?” He asks as he holds them in front of your face. 

You eye the mischievous look in his eyes, knowing that he has something on his mind, something that has got to do with him cuffing you and you can’t help but feel excitement rushing through you. 

You nod eagerly and it only makes him chuckle even more. 

“You wanna feel like a little criminal and have a cop running after you?” He asks as he bends down, leaning closer to you until his face is directly in front of yours. 

You nod.

“Good cop or bad cop?” 

“Bad cop,” you say, biting your lip. 

He chuckles darkly, he eyes you up and down before he leans closer, he brushes your hair back, his breath hits the exposed skin on your shoulder, his fingertips linger on your skin, “well then, you better run, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

He pulls back and your eyes lock with his again, he is serious about this, you can tell by the look on his face. 

For a moment, you are both silent, both waiting for the other to move. The music is still playing but the room is more silent than ever. Suddenly, Eddie lunges at you and a squeal falls from your lips, you manage to dodge his hands and jump back before he gets ahold of you. You put distance between you and him, crawling back and getting up on the other side of the bed. 

“Ma’am you are under arrest!” Eddie says with a deep voice and a mean look on his face. 

You laugh, loudly but Eddie doesn’t look amused at all. 

“Put your hands behind your back!” 

“What am I under arrest for, officer?” You ask, blinking innocently. 

Eddie frowns, he steps around the bed, trying to get closer to you. 

“That’s chief Munson to you, little lady,” he glares at you, still talking in a deep voice, “and you’re under arrest for being a bad girl.”

You raise your hand towards your lips and laugh. He tries to look mean but his eyes are filled with amusement. He steps even closer but before he can get too close, you get back on the bed and crawl over to the other side. Eddie instantly follows you. Your heartbeat picks up and you slam open the door before you run out into the hallway. 

“Hey!” 

You squeal when you hear him running after you. 

“Get back here, you little shit!” Eddie yells, snorting when he trips over Wayne’s slippers. 

You run into the living room, stopping behind the table by the couch. You are a giggling mess and Eddie thinks it’s cute, he can’t help but smile as he tries to keep the frown on his face. 

“Please chief, don’t arrest me!” You say with a fake whiney voice, “I’ll be a good girl.”

Eddie smirks, “that’s how you talk to the chief?” 

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your brows. 

The handcuffs in his hands jingle as he flicks them back and forth, walking closer and closer to you which makes you step closer to the couch. 

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, just stay where you are,” he orders, giving you a pointed look. 

“Or what?”

He quirks a brow, grinning at you, “or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Aw, I’m so scared.”

Eddie runs forward and reaches his hand out to grab you but you are quicker than him, laughing loudly when you run away again, bolting back to his room but you don’t expect him to catch you so quickly. Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around your waist, he hooks his leg around yours, bringing you down but making sure that you hit the carpet softly, a surprised gasp escapes your lips, in just under ten seconds he has you pinned beneath his body, holding you against the ground.

You struggle against him but he is stronger than you, he presses your front against the floor and holds your hands behind your back, he straddles you from behind as he puts the cold metal around your wrists, cuffing you. 

“Got ya,” he whispers in your ear, chuckling. 

“Eddie!” You whine, still struggling against him as you try to fight him off. 

You can’t see him but you know that he has a smug look on his face. 

“Y/n!” He mocks you. 

He keeps holding you down, laughing at the way you are struggling and wiggling around. He smirks in satisfaction, “I wish I could take a picture of this,” he jokes as he stares at you and at the way you look beneath him with the handcuffs around your wrists. 

“You perv!” You laugh. 

Your movements cause your skirt to ride up a little and you don’t notice that you accidentally put your panties on display. 

Eddie smirks, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up and the way his stomach flutters.

“Cute polka dot undies, babe. I bet Harrington busted in his pants when he saw these,” he chuckles, staring at your ass. 

You are too high out of your mind to be embarrassed about anything, right now. You finally stop wiggling around, you crane your neck to the side, trying to look at him, “I usually didn’t wear any when we were together.” 

He laughs in surprise, “okay slut,” he jokes causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, putting it back into place, he then looks away, clearing his throat, he gets up and adjusts his pants before he leans down, uncomfortably. Grabbing your waist, he picks you up, laughing at the way you squeal before he puts you back on your feet. He grabs the cuffs, “let’s get back in the cell, little criminal,” he whispers, pushing you through the hallway and back into his room.

You are still a giggling mess when he takes the cuffs off of you and puts them back on the wall. You plop down on the bed and lie down.

“Tell me, are you gonna wear these cute panties for Parker?” He teases you, narrowing his eyes to watch your reaction. Your eyes widen, you sit back up and straighten your back, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“W-What? How do you know?” You ask in confusion. 

He chuckles, turning back to face you, he walks towards you, crouching down in front of you. 

“Robin told me that you might want to go on a date with him, I kinda figured you would,” he shrugs. 

Eddie hates the idea of you going out with him. Ray is a jock and from his experience, 99% of the jocks are complete assholes, disrespectful to girls and generally, awful human beings. You dated one before, you don’t need another one to hurt you but he isn’t about to tell you what to do or not do – he should have. 

You blink, looking nervous all of the sudden, you look hesitant and that puts a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, taking your hands in his, trying to comfort you. 

“I think I made a mistake,” you admit as all the happiness and amusement on your face vanishes, “I-I shouldn’t have said yes to the date.”

You look anxious and that makes him anxious too.

“I don’t think that I’m ready.”

His brown eyes soften, he grips your hands tighter. Eddie thinks that you will never be ready to date anyone else – Steve Harrington is the one and only for you. You may think that you have moved on but he knows that you haven’t, he can still see the love in your eyes when you look at him. You aren’t aware of it and neither is he. 

Eddie clears his throat, trying to say something but you interrupt him. Pinching your nose, you shake your head. 

“I-I don’t even want a boyfriend, right now – let alone another jock! I don’t want to fuck him either, what was I thinking?”

A part of him wants to encourage you to cancel the date, a huge part of him wants to do that, the part that is very protective of you but he doesn’t do it. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he sits down beside you, still holding your hand, “you don’t have to date him or fuck him. And a part of you must’ve wanted to go on that date, otherwise you wouldn’t have said yes, right?” 

“I guess,” you shrug. 

The truth is, you want to know what it’s like to go out with someone who wants you. 

“I’m sure Robin told you that already but you can just go out and have fun, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If the date goes well then great but if he turns out to be an asshole then you can just give him the mean right hook you gave Billy and then you’ll call me, I’ll pick you up and kick his ass and then we’re gonna go to family video, rent some movies and binge on our favorite snacks.”

And just like that, the smile on your face returns and Eddie’s eyes light up. 

“The campaign is tomorrow,” you point out. 

He shrugs, “for you, I’ll cancel any campaign,” he winks and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. 

You smile and snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best, Eddie.”

“No, you are.” He kisses the top of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, “you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna miss this if you get a boyfriend,” he admits when you both lie down and he pulls you on top of him, “shit, I got used to cuddling you, I need my little spoon.”

You giggle into his chest, “I need my big spoon too.” You place your palm on his chest, propping your chin on the top of your hand, you look into his eyes. “I’m not gonna have a boyfriend anytime soon but you might get a girlfriend,” you whisper, tapping his nose, making him smile.

“Nah,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose up, his eyes shift away for a second, “I don’t think so, I just wanna focus on my music and my friends,” he says, squeezing your waist.

You nod. 

“I get that. I feel the same way, I just wanna focus on myself a-and be by myself.” 

He smiles, he continues to play with your hair, watching you as you reach for his necklace, eyeing the guitar pick. 

“We should just stay single together,” he jokes. 

“I actually love the idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. 

“I’ll still kick Parker’s ass if you need me to,” Eddie says after a moment of silence, making you laugh again. “I hope that you will have a good time though, sweetheart.”

You hope so too. 

You hoped so but at that time you did not know yet that the next night would end up a nightmare. That you would have tears streaming down your face, regretting that you had ever said yes to him. 

-

It’s been a long time since you had been out on a date, you forgot what it’s like to feel the excitement but also the anxiety of going on a first date again. The not knowing of how the night will turn out made you a little nervous. You didn’t know what he had planned and where he would take you but you spent all day picking out an outfit, trying on all your dresses, all your skirts, combining your jeans with your favorite tops. You hated every option, every single outfit felt wrong, even your favorite clothes didn’t feel right on you – you should have taken that as a sign to cancel the date, you should have. 

In the end, you settled for a blue sundress, pairing it with your favorite shoes and a denim jacket. You braided the front pieces of your hair and did your make up and finished it up with some pink gloss on your lips. 

A part of you kept telling you to cancel the date, to call him and say that you had changed your mind but the other part kept telling you that the doubt and the awful feeling that had settled in the pit of your stomach was because you were overthinking things, because you weren’t ready to go out with someone else. 

You sat on your bed and stared at the wall, bouncing your knee up and down as you fought a war in your mind, you had no time to change your mind though, the doorbell rang too soon for your liking. 

You felt some of the tension leaving your body when he greeted you with his cute smile and your favorite flowers, you were surprised, you only briefly mentioned what flowers you love the most in your way too short conversation at the bonfire, last week. 

He looked excited and that put your mind at ease, a little.

He was a gentleman, he opened the car door for you and asked you how your day had been, he easily made you laugh. There was no awkwardness in the air, none at all. For the first thirty minutes, you were still a little tense though, your heart was pounding, you were nervous but he was great. 

The ice broke when The Cure started playing and you found something you have in common, you started talking about your favorite bands. You forgot how nervous you felt, you even forgot how wrong it had felt to go out with him, you forgot the weird feeling in your stomach, for a moment, you forgot everything. You shouldn’t have. 

He was respectful and nice all night, he didn’t touch you the way you thought he would. The most he did was offer you his hand or put it on the small of your back. He didn’t put his hand on your thigh when you were at the movies, not the way Steve did on your first date. He didn’t try to kiss you during the movie, he didn’t try anything. He kept making you laugh and it was nice, he made you feel comfortable and that led to you letting your guard down. 

For the first time, you had felt like a guy was genuinely interested in you. 

After the movies, you went to get some drinks and things were going great, too great. The part that kept screaming at you all day was back and screaming even louder but you drowned that voice out and you focused on him and how interested he seemed in you. 

Was luck on your side this time? 

But every good moment has to end and now the moment has come and it brings you here. 

You are walking down the sidewalk with your hand in his as you discuss the movie you saw earlier tonight. 

“There is no way you still think that Halloween is better than Friday the 13th!” 

“I do!” You shrug, giggling. “I think it’s the best movie.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “I think you gotta see more movies.”

“Oh, I watch plenty of movies and I love horror but Halloween is still my favorite.”

“It’s hardly even a horror movie, honey.”

The pet name makes your smile falter a little.

“It’s good though.”

You stop in front of his car and you both turn to face each other, he places his hand on the roof of his car and you watch the way he eyes you up and down, the way his eyes linger on your chest, the way he licks his lips and smirks when his eyes meet yours again. 

You have to crane your neck to look up at him, he is tall, even taller than Steve. His hair is dark blonde and his eyes are blue, he has a look in his eyes that Steve doesn’t have, you don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not. His hair falls in front of his eyes. 

He is handsome but he isn’t him. 

You feel shy beneath his gaze, something his demeanor has changed in the past few minutes.

“Tell me,” he says as he leans closer to you, “which girl are you in a horror movie, the one that gets killed having sex or the innocent little girl turning into a killer?”

Maybe that should have made you turn on your heel and run but instead, you giggle at his question with a confused look on your face. 

You shrug, “I don’t know. Who are you? The jock that gets killed when the popular girl fucks him or the unassuming guy who turns out to be the slasher?” 

He chuckles darkly, “why don’t you find out?” He jokes as he unlocks the car and opens the door for you. 

You laugh, “sure, why not.”

The night is over and you can’t help but feel relieved, the date went great and you are happy about that, at least, you can go to bed knowing that there are guys who still just want to get to know you, without wanting something from you. 

Eddie is one of those guys too, he just wants to be around you but he is just a friend, nothing more. 

The small smile that lingered on your lips slowly disappears when he drives past the street that leads to your house. You glance at him, swallowing nervously. 

“That’s not the way to my house.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you with a smile, “oh I know, the night isn’t over yet,” he winks and looks back, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and letting his other hand linger close to you. 

There is nothing bad about what he said but you feel your heart dropping and a shiver running down your spine, still, you try to stay calm. You take a deep breath and look out the window, watching the passing trees. 

This can still have a good ending, right?

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Everything okay?”

You force a smile on your face and nod, “mhm.”

He is making sure that you are okay, that must be a good sign, right? 

The wooded area he was driving through, already gave you all the signs where he is taking you, you are still surprised when he parks the car at Lovers Lake. 

“You’re not actually the unassuming slasher are you?” You joke when you stare at the dark lake in front of you. 

He chuckles at your question, he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. You do the same, thinking that he wants to leave the car. 

“Are we going skinny dipping?” You ask, laughing as you reach for the door handle but before you can open it, he reaches out, cupping your face with his large hands and pulling you into him, he smashes his lips against yours, catching you off guard a little. 

Your heart beats faster and you gasp against him, you did not expect this. He pulls you even closer against him, kissing you desperately.

It feels wrong, so so wrong.

But you decide to try it out, to see what it’s like to kiss someone else. You place your hand on his cheek, you close your eyes and you kiss him back. 

He hums in satisfaction, his thumb lingers on your cheekbone, his lips move softly against yours. It's nice, at first, but then it gets rougher and faster. 

You can taste the coke and the rum on his lips, you can smell his expensive cologne on him, you can feel how rough he is and you can still feel how he’s pulling back, he wants more and it makes the pit in your stomach grow bigger. 

Disappointment is all you feel now, of course it had to go this way. 

His hands move down to your shoulders and he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, you can feel him smirking against you when you whimper – not from pleasure but from the discomfort of the forceful kiss, you don't know why you keep going, you don’t know why you keep kissing him when you can already tell where is he is trying to take this. He pushes your jacket down along with the straps of your dress and then he breaks the kiss, smirking at you when you gasp at the roughness of his hands as he pulls you closer against him, you can’t keep up with his quick movements. Before you can react, he pushes your hair back and buries his face in your neck, not wasting a second to start kissing and sucking on your neck, it hurts.

You scrunch your face up, hissing when you feel his teeth gracing your skin.

“Ray.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” 

You shudder in disgust and tilt your head, trying to move back, scooting away, only for him to pull you back. When you feel his hands gripping your sides tightly, you feel your stomach dropping, you freeze when you realize what this night is turning into.

“Stop it,” you warn him with a shaky voice, your heart is pounding in your chest and everything inside of you screams at you to get out of here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as he suddenly grabs your thigh, trying to push his hand under your dress, “come on, don’t be such a prude, y/n. We both know you want this. I saw the way you looked at me.”

His words make you feel sick, the nausea rises up quickly and you feel like throwing up. 

“No! Stop it, Ray!” You say louder as a mix of anger and fear rushes through you, “I don’t want this!”

The fear inside of you doesn’t know how to handle the situation but the anger does. You grab his hair and pull him away from you, ripping his hand away with your other hand. 

“I said no, asshole!” You spit and slap him harshly across the face with the back of your hand, knowing that the rings that Eddie gave you will leave marks on his skin. 

His eyes darken at your action, he clenches his jaw and his cheeks grow red, you see the anger and rage behind his eyes and it scares you. With shaky hands, you rip the door open and get out of the car. You need to get out of here, you need to get away from him. 

Luck is never on your side. 

You feel like a fool for thinking that he was just interested in you. Of course, he wanted more, of course he wanted this from you. What else could he possibly want from you? 

You feel your heart in your throat and the regret and fear in you is so strong, you don’t know whether to scream or cry when you hear him getting out of his car. Your first instinct is to run but he grabs your waist and drags you back. You can’t even fight him off, he is much bigger and stronger than you are. He slams you against the car and pins your wrists against it, holding them tightly, too tightly. 

“Let me go!” You yell, struggling against the grip he has around your wrists.

He shakes his head, laughing. 

“I told you, I don’t want this! I don’t want to have sex with you so let me go or–”

“Or what?” He chuckles, “you’re not gonna do shit. You can’t tell me you didn’t wear this for me,” he says, tugging at your dress before he lets go of your wrist and grabs your face instead, “and the way you looked at me at the bonfire? You gave me those eyes, babe. I knew you wanted to be fucked.”

You shake your head, you press yourself against the car, desperately needing some distance between you and him. 

“I didn’t, I thought you were nice.”

“Aw,” he pouts but even in the darkness, you can see the amusement in his eyes, “you thought I was nice? You thought I wanted to take you out on a cute little date, kiss you on your porch and ask you to be my girlfriend?”

No but you certainly didn’t want this. The guy he was earlier, is gone, he dropped the act and is now showing you the side you are afraid of.

“If I wanted a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have asked you out,” he says, chuckling, “you think I was interested in you?” 

You don’t answer him, you just continue to stare at him. 

“Jesus,” he sighs, “you’re so fucking dumb.”

Your lips part and your brows furrow, you feel like punching him but you also feel like crying, this is a nightmare. 

“What would I want with a stupid little bitch like you?” He laughs and he finally lets go of you, taking a step back. 

You feel relieved to no longer feel his hands on you but your heart is still pounding and you feel cold.

“I took you out and listened to the shit you were telling me about, the least you could do was let me fuck you after teasing me all night.”

You blink, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Let me tell you something, y/n,” he says, tilting his head. 

You should have walked away, you shouldn’t have let him speak, you shouldn’t have listened to him, you should’ve left. 

But you stand frozen in place, you are blinking, your eyes are wet with tears.

“You are so fucking boring. You’re just a dumb little cheerleader with no fucking personality. The only good thing you have is your pretty face and your body – you should be thankful for that, by the way,” he says, pointing at you, “you’re a good fuck and that’s all you’ll ever be, that’s why Harrington dumped you, you’re not fucking interesting enough to keep around.”

Somehow, he knew which words he had to use to hurt you. 

You know that you were never good enough for him, you know that he didn’t love you, you know that he turned away from you because he found something better, something real. 

You feel like a fool for thinking that someone could want you for more than this. 

Ray had voiced everything that has been on your mind already. 

“Oh and that Munson guy you hang out with? He’ll drop you too the moment you spread your legs for him — that’s probably why he’s still around, he’s just waiting for you to whore yourself out to him.”

You want to scream at him, you want to hurt him back but you don’t feel the power to actually fight back. 

You stare at him through your blurry vision, breathing heavily as you clench your fists. You can feel yourself wanting to cry but you would never give him the satisfaction and show him how hurt you are. You turn on your heel and walk away, pulling the strap of your dress and your jacket back in place. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, making you scoff in disbelief.

You flip him off without looking back, “fuck you!”

You don’t know where to go, you don’t know how to get home from here, it’s too dark to even see anything but you would rather get lost in the woods than get back in his car. You choose to walk down the dark path, refusing to get back on the road where he will drive by.

You refuse to let the tears fall, you blink rapidly, tugging your jacket tighter around you as you strut through the woods. You feel disgusted and angry, you regret this, you regret everything. 

You hate yourself for going out with him, you hate yourself for kissing him back, you hate yourself for letting his words get to you. You wipe away the tear that threatened to roll down your cheek. 

You were doing so good. You were happy. You were content with the way things were going. Why did you have to say yes to the date? Why did you have to ruin everything? His words have triggered something inside of you, something you had tried to leave in the past. 

That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you. 

I’m not in love with you anymore.

Did you really think that I meant that?

I didn’t, I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?

I mean, it wasn’t love.

Well, he wasn’t in love with her– I mean, he dated her because that was expected of him, right? She’s the popular cheerleader, the pretty rich girl, those have nothing in their brains and they’re pretty boring too so.. It was all just for show, I-I mean, do you really think he wanted her for her?

The voices in your head get louder and louder, overpowering the other. You can’t do this anymore, you can’t. You halt in your tracks, you put your hands over your ears, shaking your head. 

A hand on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, startling you. A gasp falls from your lips and you jump back with wide eyes, only now realizing that you are not on the dark path any longer. The street lights illuminate the street ahead of you, you recognize the boat houses. 

“Whoa, relax, girly. It’s just me.”

You press your palm against your chest and sigh, it takes you a moment to recognize the lanky guy in front of you. 

Reefer Rick. 

Eddie’s supplier. 

“You scared me,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You relax as you continue to take deep breaths.

The smell of weed invades your space and you glance back at him, noticing the joint between his lips. 

“Sorry, kid. What’re you doing out here by yourself?” He asks, smoking his joint. 

“Walking.”

“Walking in a dress?”

You look down at yourself with a frown, “what’s wrong with walking in a dress?”

“Nothin’,” he laughs, clearly stoned out of his mind, “I wouldn’t want to walk in a dress.”

“Okay..”

He points to his house, “I’m throwing a party, wanna come inside? I got some new stuff to try out.”

New stuff – new drugs. You don’t take drugs, except for the occasional joints you smoke with Eddie but that’s all. 

You should go home right now but the thought of being alone with your thoughts seems too much after the night you had and you want to forget, forget everything that happened. 

You hesitate though, you promised Eddie that you would never go to one of Rick’s parties by yourself, he made you promise, claiming that he doesn’t trust the people that Rick surrounds himself with. 

Normally, you wouldn’t do this but tonight, you don’t care about the promises that you have made. You need a drink or maybe even something stronger. 

“Okay.”

-

After a long and exhausting campaign, Eddie wanted nothing more than to go home, call you to ask how the date had gone and then go straight into bed but he had promised Rick to drop by and pick up the new supplies. 

He parks the car on the side of the road, sighing when he sees all the cars in his driveway, the people on his porch. 

Eddie hates parties, especially Rick’s parties, too many crazy people in one house. He walks into the boathouse, wincing at the music – not at the volume but at the awful song choice. He looks around, looking for his supplier. 

“Aye Munson!” 

He perks up when he hears Rick’s voice, he cranes his neck, looking over a group of girls. He waves his hand in front of his face when someone blows smoke directly into his face as he makes his way over to him. 

He is too tired for this tonight and quite frankly, he isn’t in the mood to be here. He wants to check on you. A weird feeling in his stomach had kept him from enjoying the night with the boys from hellfire tonight, it triggered a headache too. 

“There you are!” Rick grins and throws his arm around Eddie, “how’s it going?” 

“Good,” Eddie mumbles. 

Over the loud music, he hears a girl’s giggle and he could swear it sounded like you. 

“Listen uh, you got the stuff?” Eddie asks. 

“You don’t wanna stick around?” Rick asks, frowning.

“Nah man, I’m tired. Maybe next time.”

Rick sighs, he runs his hand through his messy hair, sticking his joint back between his lips.

“Alright, I’ll get your stuff, wait here.” 

Eddie nods. He puts his hands into his pockets, he looks around. A cloud of smoke hangs over the living room, the smell of weed and alcohol is heavy in the air. Most people here are strangers to Eddie, he wonders where Rick finds these people. 

He looks over at the people dancing, snorting at the couple making out in the middle of the dance floor, the group of girls that are laughing and singing along to the music don’t seem to bother them as they continue to bump into them. He looks away but then his eyes catch sight of something that makes him freeze in his spot. He has to take a double look to make sure that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. 

Amongst the girls he had never seen, is you. 

“What the hell,” Eddie mumbles, confused. 

You have glitter on your face, your eyes are red, he can even tell from a distance. You are giggling loudly, letting one of the girls twirl you around as she holds your hand over your head. 

You are either drunk or on drugs. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. 

What are you doing here and where is your date? 

He is not happy to see you here. This is not a good place. 

Angrily, he stomps over to you, pushing past the people who are on the dancefloor next to you. He calls your name loudly and watches the way your bloodshot eyes widen when you see him. You pull away from the girls, stumbling on your feet, a little. 

“Eddie!” You squeal and run towards him, throwing your arms around him. “What are you doing here!”

He smells the whiskey and the weed on you, right away and it pisses him off. 

“What am I doing here?” He asks as he pushes you away from him, carefully. “What are you doing here?” 

He watches the way your face drops, the way your lips set in a pout at the tone in his voice. 

“I told you not to come here by yourself! Where is your date?” He asks, too angry to notice anything, too angry to notice the look in your eyes, too angry and worried to see the marks on the side of your neck or the red and purplish bruises around your wrists. 

You fall into a ramble, giving him nothing but incoherent words. You blink rapidly, your voice is shaky, he doesn’t understand a single word and he can tell that you are starting to hyperventilate as the happiness and the bliss begins to fade away more and more.

He puts his arm around you and leads you out on the porch, where it’s more quiet, he sits you down on the steps and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down,” he says when your rambling causes you to breathe faster.

“I-I, yeah.” Is all you say as you rub your eyes, not caring about your make up. 

“What did you take?” He asks, thinking that it’s the drugs that are messing with you. 

“Just weed and w-whiskey,” you slur.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re here alone?”

You nod. 

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he murmurs, “I told you not to come here! Do you ever listen?” 

He doesn’t notice the way you flinch at his words, the way you look at him with glossy eyes as you search for the usual warmth in his eyes. 

“I’m gonna get you some water and then I’ll drive you home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper.

He gets up, he looks down at you, your eyes lock and he notices the way you look at him, like a scolded child, big eyes that are filled with sadness and guilt, pouty, quivering lips. His eyes soften but he is still so angry, he sighs and turns away and walks back into the house.

He is angry that you didn’t listen, he is angry because he doesn’t know what would happen if he didn’t show up here tonight. 

But he doesn’t know what had already happened. 

When he walks back out with a water bottle in hand, he closes the door behind him and speaks up without looking at you. 

“Alright let’s go – oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!” He yells, startling some of the people who are still out on the porch. But you are gone. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” 

-

Another sleepless night keeps Steve on his toes. He hates it. He finished his homework earlier tonight, he went out for a run, took a long shower, cleaned his room and reread Pride and Prejudices again. 

He wanted to go to the movies with Nancy but she had already made plans with Barb tonight – a ‘girls sleepover’. 

He envies her a little, he doesn’t have any friends anymore, no one to hang out with, no one to play basketball with, no one to go to the movies with. He misses it. 

He lies in his bed, throwing a baseball into the air and listening to Tears For Fears. He lets his mind wander, he wonders what you are doing right now, he wonders if you are with Eddie tonight, he wonders if – no. Stop it, just stop it. 

Sighing, he throws the ball across the room, letting it bounce of the wall and onto the floor, he turns on his side, facing his nightstand and the telephone he keeps staring at every night, hoping for a call from –

His heart leaps to his throat and he almost jumps up when it starts ringing. He stares at it for a moment, almost in disbelief. 

The shrill ringing continues to sound through the room and he leans over, grabbing the receiver and sitting up as he holds it to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

Steve doesn’t know what or who he expected it to be – maybe Nancy or his mom or even Dustin or one of the other kids who sometimes prank call him but when he hears the quiet sniffle, he instantly knows who it is without having to hear the voice first. 

His face falls and a frown takes over. 

“Steve?” 

next chapter

taglist: @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @wroteclassicaly @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie

[chukys-mouthguard]

sharpest tool

we were going right, then you took a left

featuring -> trevor zegras x female reader

genre -> angst

word count -> 1.1k

note -> i truly struggled writing this one, and I’m not entirely happy with how it turned out so i apologize if it is not my best. But i hope you enjoy? I am trying to get my writing back on track since I’ve been MIA 🤞🏼

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

Things had started in such an atypical way, yet somehow Trevor was still hanging around. You thought for sure that a chance encounter which led to a hook up would’ve ended there, but you were pleasantly surprised.

When Trevor invited you to a teammate's birthday party, you weren’t sure if you should accept at first. Nervous for what they might say or ask, you and Trevor not having put a label on things. Though he always said that with you, things felt different.

That birthday party turned into multiple parties, weekly date nights, spending the night at his place or him at yours. And while you still hadn’t put a label on things, you were confident in saying that Trevor was yours and you were his.

With Trevor being a professional athlete he’d often found himself navigating the pool of those who were interested in him for his status, and only ever finding a handful of girls who liked him for who he was away from hockey. But he’d thought he’d finally found his person in you.

You were everything Trevor could ever ask for. Supportive, selfless, so caring; it was easy for him to see that you weren’t just hanging around for his money or fame. He’d not experienced someone like you that could put him in his place while also putting up with his shit. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. A random night out led to you coming back to his place, and he couldn’t let you go from that night on.

As he’d begun navigating the new found feelings, he was now in a position of questioning from his friends and teammates. Were you his girlfriend? What was his status? And it made him unsure as this wasn’t a situation he’d yet been in during his young career. While he enjoyed what things were, he was afraid of labels. Thinking that by taking the step, it would change everything. But he never shared these fears, simply ignoring them.

However, ignoring those fears only made him begin to distance himself. No longer inviting you to parties, weekly date nights were kept to nights in. And while you assumed it was due to his schedule, you never thought to ask. Not wanting to ruffle any feathers or cause an argument over whether or not you were his girlfriend, despite it seeming obvious to you that you were.

Though now that Trevor was acting differently, you weren’t entirely sure.

And soon enough, the date nights ceased. And it had been over a week since you’d even gotten a simple text from Trevor. No explanation, nothing. And you wished you would’ve spoken up, raised the question when you had the chance to possibly prevent being left to pick up the pieces of the jumbled puzzle that you two were.

The idea of reaching out crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to seem attached or come across any type of way. Especially if he’d never seen your relationship as anything more than casual. But to sit around and question what the explanation was, also wasn’t fair to you.

You opted for texting his teammate, hoping that maybe he’d at least spoken to them about his decision making. Thankful that he’d introduced you to them multiple times that you knew any of them well enough to send such a random text.

But the response was nothing more than confusing. They’d said they had no clue what was going on either. Simply that Trevor had stopped mentioning you, as well as stopped inviting you to things. All of his teammates assumed you’d broken up or he was keeping things more private. Despite them all encouraging him not to lose you as they’d all thought you were perfect for him. However, the conversation only left you with more questions than answers, questioning why Trevor had taken such a harsh turn when things seemed to be going so right.

Figuring it was a stress for another day, you opted to scroll Instagram, let your brain wander and think about anything else for a bit. Watching reels of cooking, dogs doing funny things, liking the occasional post of a friend that caught your eye on your feed. Then opting to aimlessly click through stories, until you’d landed on one that you swore made your whole body seize up in shock. The range of emotions you’d felt in the ten seconds the photo was on your screen seemed almost impossible for one person to feel so quickly, yet you’d done it.

The image of Trevor, though his face not shown, you could spot his hair and tattoos anywhere. Arms wrapped around a girl you’d recognized as an ex of his, as they were waist deep in a pool at what you guessed was her house because it didn’t look familiar. You felt tears welling in your eyes but you fought it, not wanting to waste any on him after he’d strung you along rather than being man enough to end things if he wasn’t interested.

Though you knew it was best to leave it be, not respond or try to get the last word, you couldn’t help yourself. Feeling it was only right you got to say something since he’d shut you out for the last several weeks with no explanation.

Typing out a quick response to the post, you hit send. Immediately exiting the app and heading to take a shower.

Trevor finished off his beer before exiting the pool to search for his phone, finding it on a chair as he checked his notifications. Smiling at a group chat with the boys before heading over to his Instagram. The arms of his ex snaked around his waist as she kissed his back, urging him to get off his phone and head inside with her. Trevor’s focus on the message you’d sent him.

Guess I’m an idiot for thinking we were anything more than casual.

Trevor’s smile had faded as he saw the message, his heart immediately aching as he felt awful for that photo. He felt awful that he’d simply chosen to never talk to you about how he was feeling, simply distancing himself and ignoring it all. As if that was a solution. Now he’d been seen at his ex's house, clearly cozied up with her and he knew that broke your heart to see. It was dumb, and to say he didn’t regret it now instantly would be a lie.

His guilt was creeping in as he questioned whether or not he should respond. Should he call you? You’d probably blocked him by now. He was mentally cursing himself for not being man enough to talk about his feelings, letting the best thing to have ever come into his life go because of his stupidity and fears.

Grabbing his things he knew he had to fix this, or at least try. Hurrying to his car as he checked the time, knowing it was late but hoping somehow you’d be awake. Shooting a quick text, a simple hey, impatiently waiting as he started his car. His heart racing as he watched the word delivered soon change to read.

[azurevi]

everyone loves you (at least i do)

pairing: leona x gn!reader (reader = prefect)

note: inspired by first love and the song by matt maltese under the same name. 2.6k; not too proud with how it came out but it’s just a lil something to get the idea out of my head :P

The first time Leona caught someone asking you out in the botanical garden, he was irritated to say the least.

The garden had always been the first choice for those who wanted to confront their crushes, what with the cozy temperature and flamboyant plants making for an idyllic atmosphere, not to mention the lack of wandering students.

Except for Leona, that was.

As time went by, he learned to tune out the pathetic confessions and over-the-top declarations of love. So long as they weren’t doing it right next to his napping spot, he had no interest in others’ dating lives. 

His disinterest went down the drain when he picked up your presence one day, automatically rousing him from his sleep. It was undeniable that he enjoyed your occasional visits and that you were good company, but that was all. 

Still, he waited for you to spot him under the tree, but you never came. Instead, you stopped a few feet away. and that’s when he picked up another foreign scent.

“I’ve been feeling this for a long time,” the faceless student started, his voice shaking near the end of the sentence. “But I really like you. Would you like to go out with me?”

Leona’s tail smacked loudly on the grass, but it went unnoticed. His eyes were wide open now, face as still as a statue as he processed his words. Someone was asking you out when he’s just steps away. It’s weird how it planted a bitter taste in his mouth, but perhaps he was just infuriated that he got woken up by something so… trivial. He should just go back to dreamland.

Instead, he listened closely for your answer.

“Um, thank you,” You sounded conflicted. “But I'm afraid I can't do that, sorry.”

“Ah…” The student was audibly disappointed. “I see. Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s-” you opened your mouth to reassure him, but he was already scurrying away, head low like a child who just got berated by his parents. The corner of Leona’s lips quirked up, amused by your candid rejection.

Moments later, he heard you leave as well. It bugged him that you didn’t think to find him, but he’s too caught up with relief to care.

Relief. How strange that he would feel comforted by that. Shaking his head, he lowered himself onto the grass and dozed off again.

To his surprise and dismay, it didn’t end there. A week later, the same thing happened: another underclassman invited you to the garden with a box of chocolate in hand. Your position worked in Leona's favor— if he just shifted a little, he could observe the whole interaction through the broad leaves. It took an embarrassing amount of effort to stifle his curiosity and the urge to take a peek.

The moment the blonde second-year opened his month, Leona knew that he was a lost cause.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about how we would be a good match. You’re always the center of attention, and I’m handsome and popular, together we can be the hottest couple of the school. So what do you say? Go on a date with me?”

The boy spoke with such confidence, hand flipping his bangs and torso leaning against a thin tree trunk, that Leona almost scoffed. Though he could not see your reaction, from the way you tilted your head and crossed your arms, he could tell that you were not having any of it.

“If it’s being in the spotlight you want, perhaps you’ll have more luck dating someone more special. Like Vil. He’s a celebrity, after all.” You said in a calm voice, as if you weren’t basically suggesting that he walk straight into embarrassment. There’s no way Vil would even look at him, let alone listen to his arrogant and loveless proposal.

“Huh. You do have a point there. Good advice. Thanks a lot,” he patted your shoulder before strolling off like he hadn’t just tried to score a date with you. 

The moment he’s out of sight, you let out an exasperated sigh and turned around. Leona settled into a more comfortable position as you neared, hiding himself behind the lush bushes.

“Leona?” You called, shoving the blades of leaves out of your face as you wandered further in. “Oh, here you are. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

You shook his shoulder, and he pretended to be stirred awake, grunting in annoyance. “What do you want?”

From where you were looking down at him, the glass ceiling casted an almost angelic halo of light around your head. “Wanna grab lunch with me? I heard they added something new to the menu.”

He watched your eager expression before rolling to his side. “I don’t want to go.”

“Oh,” it’s impossible to not notice the drop in your voice. “Okay then.”

As you turned on your heels, he cleared his throat, “We can eat here if you get me one of the new stuff. It’s got meat in it, right?”

That made your mood change as swiftly as lightning. “Loads, actually. I’ll be right back!”

His eyes followed as you dashed away with lightness in your steps, a fond chuckle rumbling in his chest. 

After you returned, you talked some more about the shenanigans your classmates had been getting into and some gossip that had been circulating around the campus. Never once did you bring up the minor hiccups involving the two students, so he didn’t ask. A sense of security had settled in his head now that he’d seen you turn someone down twice, but it would turn out to be short-lived.

If he hadn’t been aware of your popularity among your peers, he certainly did now. It’s only been a month and he already needed two hands to count all the times he’d been roused from peace by someone asking you out. Some were as insincere and playful as the second pursuer, but most were serious, and creative about it too. He'd seen you being presented with balloons, flowers, handmade plushies, all kinds of crafts, heirlooms– there were too many to list. Not to mention the more poetic ones among the followers, who managed to turn their affections for you into something straight out of a fairytale. If he had had a single romantic bone in his body, he might've wept at one of the verses too.

On the surface, he had no idea that you were so popular, but a deeper look gave him all the explanations he needed. You'd stumbled into this world with nary an ounce of magic in you, crashing the entrance ceremony with a cat that breathed fire, and within months of settling down, you managed to stand against not one, not two, but three overblot dorm leaders. There was a courage that burned like a fire inside you.

But that's not all. You were kind and loyal and friendly and genuine, always ready to give a helping hand to whoever was in need. You somehow got on his good side, for sevens' sake. That alone said a lot about you.

It only made sense that all the things he liked you for were adored by others as well, but that knowledge was threatening. There might come a day when you're finally wooed by one of the admirers, or when you eventually set eyes on someone else. There might come a day when you say yes to their confessions and spend so much time with them that you forget all about him…

But then again, he couldn't imagine being on the receiving end as you apologetically turned him down. His pride couldn't take that. Plus it would just make things awkward between you.

How utterly preposterous. As if a prince like him would care if a human or two stopped bothering him.

"I think I have an idea as to what this is about." You said to the boy in front of you.

His ears twitched in your direction. Okay, so maybe he did care. His back was turned to the scene from where he was sitting behind the bench, but he was close enough to catch every word.

"I thought so. People are actually starting to guess who you'll end up with, including me."

Leona knew the owner of that voice. Not personally, but he was usually seen sticking to your side. From the scattered pieces of information you'd told him in passing, that guy was your study partner for alchemy classes and had been one of your best buddies alongside Jack and the other first years. There were times when he spotted the two of you walking down the corridor, matching smiles stuck on your faces.

Was this it? Perhaps the reason you'd rejected all those people was because you wanted to be with someone close, someone whom you knew. This guy– whatever his name was– would be a good choice in this case.

He refused to acknowledge the fear snaking down his spine.

"I wish you would still let me ask though," he said. You didn't outright refuse. Leona's heart sank.

"I've come to fall in love with you in the time we've spent together. I was really worried that confessing would jeopardize our friendship, but I can't keep my feelings from you anymore, or else I will probably go crazy in my head," Fabrics shuffled, it sounded like a velvet box was clicked open, and a tiny gasp escaped your throat. "This isn't much, but… would you like to grab dinner with me?"

Silence. Those pregnant moments weighed heavily on Leona. For once, he couldn't tell whether the deafening heartbeats were his or your friend's.

"This is-" you inhaled deeply. "This is too expensive, I can't take it-"

"It's yours to have. I figured only something like this can encompass how much I love you, so…" he trailed off before forcing a pathetic laugh through his nose. "You can't take it, or you don't want to take it?"

"I'm sorry, Hans. You're a really good friend, but I don't feel that way about you." 

"Oh. That's… that's alright," he cleared his throat, then laughed again. "Man, I kind of expected this, but it still hurts pretty bad. Will you at least keep it?"

"But-"

"I know, but I really do want you to have it. Plus, I got one for myself too! They could be matching friendship bracelets."

You smiled ruefully. "Alright, I'll accept it. They do look cute when put together."

"I know right?" There was a beat before he talked again, this time in a more hesitant tone. "Can I ask you a question?"

You hummed. 

"Is there a reason why you never go out with anyone? Like, are you just not interested in guys or dating in general…" Before you could answer, he clicked his tongue. "Okay, that's not really what I was hoping to ask. Is there someone that you like?"

“Yea, something like that.” The certainty in your voice made Leona’s chest lurch. So that’s it? Someone had already won your heart? Possibilities dashed across his mind: could it be one of the aforementioned friends? The sociable Cater or the cheery Kalim? Or was it Vil, who somehow made his way into your conversation that one time? Or– his tail swished at the thought– was it…

Smack! It disobediently hit the back of the bench, the creak seizing the moment. Your chatting voices were abruptly cut off and replaced by a deafening silence.

“What was that?” Hans said. Footstep approached, his scent moving closer. 

“What was what?” You stopped him in his tracks somehow. “It's probably just the wind.”

“I guess so,” he scratched the back of his head, “Alright then. We should head back for classes.”

“You should go first, I have something to do around here.”

Damn it.

The air seemed to freeze as soon as Hans was gone, as if one tiny movement would break the stillness. Leona listened as the soles of your shoes cracked the grass. There was an intention to conceal your movement, but you would be naive to think that you could sneak up on him.

As expected, you jumped in front of the spot where he’d been sprawled out on, the victorious grin dissolving into confusion when you saw only the dent he'd left on the ground.

“Boo.”

You jumped a great height in the air at the ambush, shooting him a harmless glare as he scoffed at your response.

“Hey there, eavesdropper.”

“Eavesdropper? You were the one who wandered into my territory. Really should've chosen somewhere with more privacy.”

“I thought you denied being the keeper of this garden.”

"That's not the same thing. I'm not taking care of this place, it's too much work,” his gaze trailed down to the bracelets encircled around your wrist, then back to your face again. Perhaps he could find out who the thief of your heart was if he stared persistently enough. 

“What is it?” You waved your hand in front of his face, ruining his plan. 

“There’s something you said back there,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, noting the way your back stiffened. “Something about you liking someone…”

“You misheard.” 

His ears twitched. “Try again?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Leona had never found you hard to read until now, watching you muster a look that said ‘I’m not gonna tell you’ despite your heart beating out of your ribcage. There was an answer in there somewhere, and he wanted to get it, wanted to know if it was him. He wanted to know if you wanted to take things further as much as he did.

As if the timing couldn't be better, the bell rang, easing the tension on your countenance. You took the window of opportunity and took a step back, “Oops, time to go. We’ll uh, continue this conversation later? Or start a new one, probably.”

With the quickness of a kitten on the loose, you turned and tried to make a run for it, only to stagger back when he clasped his hand around your adorned wrist. The pad of his thumb grazed over your pulse, passing under his touch in a hastening stream. Finally he caught something– a glimmer of anticipation lighting up your face, vanishing as quickly as it'd come, but there was no mistaking it. Had you always looked at him with such expectant eyes? 

"...Your bracelet came off," he undid the clasp with a discreet tuck and dangled the string of jewelry in the air. 

"When did it even-" you squinted at him suspiciously before snatching it back. "Thank you. I should really go now."

"Just one more thing. How do you like to be asked out?" He smirked as your eyes widened, clearly taken aback. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

You pocketed the bracelet, drawing a breath before speaking again, pushing the words out with slow deliberation. "Well. It really depends on who's asking. I'm fine with flowers, but I’m not against surprises. Why do you ask?" 

There was a pause, a break in how natural your previous sentences had been. You'd asked the last question in the sort of tone that betrayed what the fake nonchalance might have him believe. Paired with the warm tint on the tips of your ears, Leona felt his heart tighten at the growing confirmations.

“Curious, that's all."

After you finally waved goodbye, he waited until you’d left completely to pull out his phone, the gears in his head turning in high speed. A plan was already taking root in his head:

The next time you came into the botanical garden, he would be the one asking you out.

[eunoiaastralwings]

Blue

featuring Winter Soldier!Bucky x reader

fandom mcu- pre catws

a/n based on my idea here - here the beginning to set the idea.

warnings attempted physical assault (not from bucky), brooding winter soldier xD - idk if there was anything else tell me otherwise

When you entered your apartment - you could already sense an uneasy presence within the atmosphere.

He had found you again. . .

The tension felt high and the air seemed thicker than usual. Of course, the shadow of the man in your kitchen could not go unnoticed. You felt yourself gulp as you walked into the kitchen quietly - the Winter Soldier was seated. He was as still as a statue. “Sit.”

He said - motioning towards the chair opposite him.

You were - Y/N Pierce, Alexander Pierce’s daughter - but unlike your father you didn't want to be part of Hydra - but you were forced to know Hydra. As the Winter Soldier - he was always told to watch over you and made sure you didn't escape like you tried countless times already.

Now once again, the Winter Soldier found her. . . he always found her. . .

“So, what now? You gonna drag me back kicking and screaming again?” You asked - a little irritation in your voice. The Winter Soldier remained silent - studying her from a distance. His expression was neutral - but his gaze was fierce and intense.

He looked her over once again - his eyes scouring over your appearance. He was seemingly looking for something - but it was hard to tell what.

He took a step forward - his stride confident and measured.

"Sit."

He only repeated.

“What are you going to do, Blue?”

You ask him with a sigh. You had hated always calling him Soldat or the Winter Soldier, like your father and Hydra did - so you always stuck with calling him Blue, because of his blue eyes. He didn’t remember his own name - and no one would tell him or you either. . .and you wanted to make him feel just a little human. . .

He cocked his head slightly at the nickname - considering it for a few moments before deciding to allow it. You sighed realizing they had wiped his mind clean yet again - as he had seemingly forgotten the name.

“I intend to take you back to base” He said calmly - “Do cooperate..”

“. . .So what actually happens if I don’t cooperate?” You asked.

“I will be forced to use physical force to restrain you and transport you to our base” He answered.

The Winter Soldier’s voice was cool and detached - but he was still assessing you, as if weighing his options.

“What if I don’t want to return?!”

You crossed your arms.

He glanced at you sharply - eyes narrowing.

“You will  obey your father.”

He said forcefully.

“I can have a life here, Blue. I don’t want to go back to my father!" 

You glared.

“He is still your father, Y/N!” He said coldly - and you realize this is probably the most he has ever spoken to you. “And it is your duty to do as he says. You may think you have a life here, but that life is not yours. You belong to your father. You belong to HYDRA.” He continued.

“I don’t belong to anyone! I want nothing to do with my father, or Hydra!" 

You snap - holding your ground, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you unless deemed necessary.

His face was stony and his expression still, but you could hear the ice and frost beneath his words. 

“I am afraid, Y/N - your opinion does not matter. Your father is a high-ranking HYDRA official and he expects you back at his side. Your life belongs to HYDRA, whether you like it or not.” “I’m not coming!”

You said - glaring and balling your hands into fists. “Then I will bring you back by force!” 

He said, standing up from his seat.

He looked straight at you, eyes like ice -  “And I suggest you do not try to resist me, you have no chance of winning.” You glare before turning back and running. The Winter Soldier's eyes narrowed as he watched you run away. He stood up straight and ran after her - gaining ground quickly.

He wasn’t going to let her escape - you belonged to HYDRA and he was going to make sure you got back to where you belonged. You ran down the stairs of the apartment building trying to get away from him.

He continued chasing her, his steps getting closer and closer. He was gaining ground quickly, his speed was unparalleled.

He didn't know how much longer till he caught you - but he wasn't going to let up. You quickly run out the emergency exit and shut the door on him - locking it back in - momentarily forgetting he was a super soldier with a metal arm. The door was shut to his face - leaving him standing on the other side. He let out a low growl - angry at her.

Swiftly using the metal arm he began pounding on the door. His metal fist was louder than any knock you had ever heard, echoing through the building. The door couldn't hold out for long.

You kept running down the back alleyways.

The Winter Soldier continued pounding on the door - his knuckles leaving small dents in the metal hinges. He let out a low growl in his throat - annoyed that he was having to chase after you.

Once the door finally gave way - he stepped through the doorway and looked around, scanning the alleyways for you. You curse at your damn luck as you managed to run right into drunkards and shady men high on drugs.

The Winter Soldier’s eyes narrowed and he took notice of his surroundings.

There was a group of drunk men sitting around in the alleyway - obviously waiting to ambush someone.

He paused - deciding whether or not to attack the men to get you out of the alleyway, or letting you deal with the situation yourself.

“Why, hello there, gorgeous. . .”

One of them slurs - stepping towards you and you immediately stepped back.

The Winter Soldier saw one of the men approach you - and it didn't take much to figure out what his intentions were.

The man was eyeing her up like a wolf eyes its prey - his eyes roaming all over your body.

The Winter Soldier had half a mind to kill him on the spot - but he held back, for now.

“Awe, it’s ok - you look like you could use a little fun!”

He laughs -  the other men laughing too as he steps closer and closer to you.

You grit your teeth balling your fists.

The Winter Soldier felt his blood boil inside of him as the men surrounded you.

All laughing and joking - their comments getting more depraved and vile with every passing moment.

He took a deep breath -  trying to stay calm and level headed. But he was getting closer and closer to losing his temper.

The moment the drunkard tried to grab you - you immediately reacted and knocked him off balance, using the skills you were taught and trained with.

The drunken man stumbled back - dropping a glass bottle that shattered on the ground.

The other men laughed at their friend’s expense - but he quickly got back to his feet and they began to surround you again.

You glare as they surround you. You were no super soldier, you couldn’t take them all at once - but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. The men surrounded her, their laughs turning cruel and menacing. 

They began to circle around you - their eyes leering at you.

They didn’t care if you were  innocent or not - all they wanted was to have their way.

Their eyes were cold and hungry - like wolves salivating over their prey. Instantly you tried to fight them off trying to watch your sides with every kick and punch.

But what you hadn’t excepted - was for one of them to grab your hair from behind and try to knock a punch to your face.

The moment they tried take her at once - and the man raised his first for a punch, you scream for the Winter Soldier

“BLUE!”

The Winter Soldier’s face immediately changed when you cried out the nickname. 

He instantly appeared by your side - punching one man in the face and knocking him to the ground.

The other men backed off - shocked after the sudden appearance of the man out of nowhere.

He stood before you now - his back toward you - shielding you from the drunkards who had been attempting to grab you. The men were now wary of him - seeing the extent of his strength and skills - the metal arm included.

You gulped watching the Winter Soldier protect you and just hid behind him - tired and out of breath from your own fight.

The Winter Soldier stood still - his face stoic and emotionless as he stared down the drunkards.

His intimidating presence was enough to have run out the alleyway. With a final glare at you - the men backed away and ran.

You watched as they immediately scrambled away.

The last drunken man disappeared down the alleyway, leaving only the two of them there.

The Winter Soldier waited for a moment - his eyes scanning the alleyway, watching for any sudden movement. After a while - he turned towards you and looked down at you with his expression unchanged.

“Are you hurt?” 

He asked - his voice still cold and detached.

You blinked - that was the first time he asked you that and you shake you head - slightly surprised.

“Thanks . . .”

You said.

“. . .but you’re still gonna take me back to my father aren’t you?”

You then asked - after a moment passed of them just staring at you.

He remained silent for a moment - as if contemplating your question.

“Yes”

He said finally, his voice still cold and detached.

His eyes were still set upon you -  but his voice had changed. You could almost felt like you could see his inner conflict.

“I don’t wanna go back, Blue!”

You said - almost begging.

“Your choices are either to come with me voluntarily. . .or you risk being dragged back by force.*”

His voice - becoming cold and emotionless again 

“I don't wish to harm you but if you continue with your insubordination -  I’ll be forced to use force to get you to comply. Это понятно?”

He asks - if you understood in Russian.

“No!” You glared.

The Winter Soldier only remained still and stared straight at her with that cold gaze. His tone was still emotionless. 

“You’re still refusing orders I see. Now - you leave me no choice.”

The Winter Soldier leaned forward - and his voice dropped a small level below the monotone and emotionlessness it had before.

“Do you need to be dragged back by force? Is this the route you are choosing?”

He asks - low and dangerous.

You tried to run again - but your attempt to get away was stopped this time when he grabbed your wrist in a tight grip. His grip was incredibly powerful from the super strength he was granted from the serum that was injected into him.

He looked her in the eye and said nothing - instead, letting his icy blue eyes do the talking for him.

“You won't wanna do this!”

You said - struggling against his grip.

“You’re being rather stubborn - you’re my mission and I must return you!”

His grip tightened around your wrist - he was now gripping harder, showing you his power.

“So I will ask yet again. Are you going with me voluntarily?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Blue, please. . .look they are only gonna wipe your mind again!”

You said - trying to see if there was any hope to connect with the man underneath the brainwashing and mind control.

He stayed still and silent as you tried to talk to him. 

His grip on you held tight - he didn’t  even blink once as he listened to you.

But still - his blue eyes remained cold, devoid of any emotion - and his voice remained as emotionless and monotone as it could ever get. 

“Your attempts at swaying me will fail.” 

He said bluntly.

You sigh - eventually accepting your fate and stopping fighting him.

”I’m glad you’ve realized that I’m not one to be swayed by your words. Now - you’re going to come with me -and I will finish my mission.” 

The Winter Soldier slowly turns slowly - his grip on your wrist; keeping hold of you.

He began to drag you back.

“I really don’t like you right now, Blue. . .”

You grumble as you were forced to follow him.

“Your opinions of me are of no concern to me. My sole purpose and mission is to retrieve you and bring you back.”

His grip around your wrist didn’t tighten as he dragged you towards the transport vehicles where Hydra personnel were waiting. 

This wasn't the first time he had returned her back to Hydra. And - it probably wasn't the last time either.

PART 1 | PART 2

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Masquerade of the Sinners

pairing: ???!Joshua x fallen angel fem!reader

genre: smut. minors dni.

warnings: praise, dirty talk, mentions of incubus powers, unprotected sex (stay safe), creampie, sub!reader, dom!shua, religious imagery and defilement (again), making out, manhandling, spanking, squirting, overstimulation, hair pulling, mentions of blood and murder

word count: ~1.4k

summary: keeping up the appearances to deceive humans is joshua's expertise. but you have become the perfect apprentice, the mask of innocence bearing no cracks for the humans to gaze upon.

Author's note: hello beloveds <3 had a sudden burst of inspo thanks to the shua pics from the latest fansign and decided to expand a little on Fall From Grace :)

taglist: @junkissed @shuadotcom @bitchlessdino @duhnova

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

Another Sunday, another successful preaching from the altar.

A few months ago, Joshua was gagging at the idea of faking the role of a young and kind priest, devoted to God and His words. 

But now? After exposing himself to you and defiling you in a way only his kin know best, his daily life has become way more interesting.

It’s as if the bells of Apocalypse have rung in the Heavens and the archangels decided to send horde after horde of angels to execute him. Yet every single attempt has proven futile, with the heavenly creatures ending up lifeless in a pile of blood and pearly white feathers or breathless and full of his seed.

What’s even more amusing to him is that none of the puny humans around him have caught wind of his true nature.

“Hm. How foolish.” He chuckles to himself as he closes the small Bible in his hands. He goes to the small room where he keeps his robes and the rest of the books he uses for various ceremonies and other church activities.

Speaking of activities, he still despises the choir sessions. The gospels echoing from the mouths of the choir members and bouncing off the walls of the church always give him a headache, to the point of nosebleeds.

However, seeing some of the girls attend the choir just to ogle at him and purposefully wait during after hours to talk to him in private or for…other matters makes the whole choir experience a little more tolerable.

“Aren’t you tired of fooling around with these human weaklings, Joshua?”

You stand against the closed gates, leaning your back on the heavy wood.

Joshua’s lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Good evening, my dear. What brings you here tonight?”

“You know fully well why I’m here, you demonic creature.” You walk towards the altar and reach in front of him.

“Ah, of course. You want revenge for losing your status, don’t you?”

“Not just that.” You grit your teeth.

“What else then?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You gulp audibly, shame washing over your body when you remember the first time you let him ravage you like prey caught in a trap. 

You lift your shirt and lower your pants just enough to show him the two incubus tattoos engraved on your lower pelvis - a small heart surrounded by thorns and a star underneath their junction, connecting to another, larger heart with horns protruding. 

Joshua licks his lower lip hungrily. “So that is what you’re talking about.”

“You need to remove this, now.” You demand with a steady voice.

“I’m afraid I cannot do this, sweetheart.” He glues his eyes on you, irises glowing red. “The marks of an incubus are permanent once placed upon another body.”

“Liar, you were the one who put those marks in the first place! You must know how to take them away!” You raise your voice at him.

“The only way to not have these marks is to withstand and push away the charms of an incubus, Y/N. And as far as I remember, you did nothing of the aforementioned.” 

You feel your body lighting up on fire all of a sudden, heat starting to pool in your panties. No, he can’t be right.

“That’s the Gaze. Once someone looks at you lustfully, your entire body is immediately aroused.” Joshua explains.

“M-Make it stop.” Your voice comes out weaker than it was supposed to.

“I can make it stop for a while. But are you sure you want me to, pretty angel?”

You barely manage to suppress a whimper before pulling Joshua’s body flush to yours, smashing your lips to his with a carnal fervor. 

The last time you experienced this type of fervor was when he exposed his true nature to you.

Joshua moans in your mouth and wraps his tongue around yours, his arms grabbing your waist to manhandle you towards the altar.

He breaks the kiss and pins you on the sacred place, tracing his fingers over the larger mark.

“The one below is Trigger. There are two phrases I can say to you, each one with different effects.”

“W-What phrases are they?” You ask meekly.

“I already used the first one, angel. It was just to make you a tad bit hornier. The other one will just seal the deal.” He takes off his robes and reveals his chiseled body, along with his demonic horns.

“Joshua, s-stop making me beg already!” You kick your legs at him, but he grabs them by your thighs and reaches for the hem of your pants, pulling them down until they are completely off your body.

“That will happen too, sweetheart. But I wanna have fun with you first.”

He turns you around and pushes your head down on the altar, running his hands over the curve of your ass.

“For a fallen angel, you have an ass that would make even a succubus jealous.” He spanks your ass twice and then runs his hands over your back, raising your shirt to expose the scars on your back, where your wings once existed.

“You have been so good at blending in with the humans here and attending church every Sunday like a good little lamb, listening to my preachings as if I was your God.”

You let out a loud moan as you clench around emptiness, wetness starting to drip down your thighs. Joshua rips them in half with his hands and takes out his cock, rubbing the tip between your folds.

“Shua, please, fuck me, please!” You grip the edge of the altar, begging for something inside you.

Joshua lets out a deep chuckle. “Can’t deny you when you beg so prettily.” 

He slams his cock inside you with one fluid thrust, your thighs shaking from feeling full in a split second.

“You’re taking me even better than last time, little angel. I’m impressed.” He leans his torso on your back, caging you between the cold surface and his body. “You are just so good at everything, aren’t you?”

“T-Thank you, thank you so m-much, Shua.” You answer between short sobs, body jerking forward with each thrust he delivers.

“It’s so rewarding to see you don the pretty mask of the kind newcomer who is so pure and innocent, as if you were the new guardian angel of this town.” He grips your hair and pulls it violently. “Only for me to crush it into millions of pieces every night on this damn altar, like I’ve done with your former brothers and sisters.”

Under different circumstances, you would have driven a blade of Empyrean steel through his skull, but the nearly mind-numbing pleasure has made you a pliant mess in Joshua’s hands.

And you consciously love it.

It could be the marks on your body, but ever since you fell from Heaven, you’ve been craving his touch, his gaze, his voice, his everything.

“There is something about you that makes me want to keep you for myself, away from any living being, be it human, angel or even demon.” He admits between pants, a clear signal of his impending orgasm. 

“S-Shua, I- n-”

“I know, angel, I know.” He pants and lets go of your hair to wrap his arms around your torso and lift it off the altar, flush to his chest.

“I’m cumming!” You scream on top of your lungs, voice echoing in the empty church as you reach your climax and squirt all over the altar. Joshua doesn’t stop pistoning his hips against your ass, overstimulating you on purpose.

“You look so hot when you make a mess in God’s house, little lamb.” He moans in your ear and cums inside you, painting your insides white with his load. His hand caresses the glowing womb tattoos, the red sheen matching the one emitting from his hellish eyes.

You turn your head around and kiss him, teeth and tongue messily clashing with each other.

“I c-cannot see God anymore.” You confess breathlessly.

Joshua gives you a sardonic smile as he slips out of you and rolls you on your back so you can face him in all of his glory, his cum staining your legs.

“Your God stands in front of you, little lamb.”

[stpvnd6794]

Headcannons for Yoon Bum, Feitan Portor, Illumi Zoldyck, and Tamaki Amajiki

⚠️ note: there is nsfw content, mentions of cnc, might be triggering to some!! ⚠️

Yoon Bum

sfw

- wants to be loved

- devoted, completely loyal

- will do ANYTHING asked of him

- cuddles

- obsessive, doesn’t know how to love correctly

- obsessed like STALKER LEVEL

- but it’s sweet in its own way.

- gets jealous when you talk about anyone

- OLIVE THEORY

- hes so sweet, will plump your pillow and shit like that

- loves it when you do little things

- like just scoot closer to him outta no where

- or lay your legs on him

- or play with his hair

- LORD man will get on him knees

- no, like.. seriously. he will

- and i have a feeling he’d love random kisses, albeit will be hella shy ab it

nsfw

- praise.

- complete bottom

- the only time he will dom is if you make him

- please reward him for everything

- GOOD BOY

- such a good boy

- so submissive

- will do everything asked of him

- so cute

- cums too fast

- thrusts inexperienced-ly

- the cutest doe eyes

- will kind of manipulate you to get his way

- :]

Feitan

sfw

- tsundere

- will tsk or tch at you for everything

- smiles just a little behind his scarf thing when he thinks you do something cute

- does the little things

- gets steals you something when he sees you eyeing it

- listening and remembering to the small things you talk about

- takes your plate to the kitchen with his when you’re both done with food

- takes bags from you when you’re holding something

- when you two walk together he’ll brush his hand against yours to see if you’ll get the hint

- things like that

- likes being the big spoon when cuddling or anything where he can hold you

- is utterly in love with you but denies it profusely

- his eyes soften just a little when he sees you

- when he wakes up in the morning, the first thing he does is pull you close(r) to him.

- or he’ll look for you if you’re not there. (and maybe panic a bit)

nsfw

- switch

- definitely dom leaning

- even when he’s bottoming he’s like dominant about it.

- HAIR PULLING

- he likes to be caressed and wants you to be sweet

- but don’t treat him like he’s fragile or made of glass

- throw in a little degrading every now and then

- bdsm

- will spank

- makes you get on your knees more often than not

- sometimes he’ll bend you over his, spank you and make you count, if you mess up he starts over again

- AFTERCARE BOSS

- so sweet afterwards

- will definitely cuddle you

- in the mornings he’s also very sweet. sometimes you’ll wake up to food or something if he’s in the mood or wakes up before you (he prob forced someone to cook tho, bc for some reason, i cant see him being able to cook 🤷‍♀️)

- :)

Illumi

sfw

- you’ll have to bare with him here

- very emotionally constipated

- does this adorable head tilt when he’s confused (literally a puppy, i like do think hes like a lab or smt idk)

- he’s not used to physical touch but will hold your pinky finger with his :]

- he also will do these domestic thing he probably learned from movies

- like touching you with his cold feet

- or covering you with a blanket when you fall asleep

- will stiffly pet your head/hair

- lets you braid his hair occasionally (wont admit it but he loves those claw clip thingys)

- if he’s really tired after a mission he’ll plop himself onto you and cuddle you

- don’t touch him too suddenly though, make sure he knows what you’re doing

- be soft and gentle with him but also don’t be afraid

- sometimes he’ll release some bloodlust or just try and scare you to make you think he’s bad or “a monster”

- has a hard time knowing that you actually love him

- and don’t want him for his family, power, status, money or- you get the idea

- does want children though so.

- like a family

- and that, to him, is like- 5 kids so.

- he is very stubborn so you’re gonna have to settle with like at least one child

nsfw

- BREEDING

- i’m telling you this dude could go on for HOURS

- and i don’t mean like 1 or 2

- I MEAN LIKE 8-9 hours

- definitely tries to impregnate you

- if you have female anatomy or are fertile

- if not then he is getting like a surrogate or something

- he needs heirs

- seems vanilla but is kinda kinky

- definitely does the choking or pain(cmon mans a sadist)

- i think he’s into like pervy stuff too

- def watches you when you think you’re alone

- whether thats like taking a shower, changing, masturbating, etc.

- literally doesn’t know what boundaries are

- he gets off on you not knowing he’s there

- i feel like he’s into somnophilia

- :3

Tamaki

sfw

- so sweet

- timid too

- the cutest

- his favorite cuddle position is like with you two curled up facing each other and your foreheads pressed together

- likes to just stare at you

- you make him blush a lot

- with anything

- say something, wink at him, check him out, hold his hand, play with his hair, kiss him on the cheek(or anywhere), etc.

- he’ll blush

- likes for you to lay on him, no matter your size.

- the weight on him gives him comfort

- like a weighted blanket or stuffed animal

- doesn’t take compliments too well

- usually just like shakes his head or looks conflicted

nsfw

- i don’t really think he’s comfortable with sex

- definitely on the asexual spectrum

- but i will say he does like intimacy and sensuality

- he just likes to be loved

- :>

(EDIT: WHY TF IS MY GRAMMAR SO BAD HELLO??)

[natewriteslol]

Creepy Crawlers

Summary: You and your college roommates decided to play a fun game of ouiji board. But what do you do when the devil wishes to make a deal for freedom? Will you be able to reach ends meet and be free from this malignant spirit, or will you be forced to join him amongst the ranks in hell?

Demon!Cater x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: talk of demons, pain, horror themes

It was a hazy Friday afternoon and you were head over heels excited to head to your apartment after a long day of work. Your roommate, Vil had just finished his classes at his university and you had gotten off of work from the coffee shop. You were both waiting for Kalim to head home from his mother’s house. She always got lonely when her son was gone for too long, so he had been gone for about 3 days, spending quality time with his mother. 

Mesmerized by your phone, you finally snapped out of the trance once you heard the familiar knocking pattern from Kalim, you and Vil welcomed him back home as he energetically started catching you guys up on what he was up too back in his home country. You both had aided in assisting him with all of the baked goods and gifts that he was given by his family. But once he got to unpacking different trinkets his mother gave to him, Kalim had brought out some sort of board? 

You and Vil had glanced at one another before breaking the ice.

“Uh...Kalim, what is that?” your blonde roommate inquired, pointing at the box. It was a deep wine red, with black, bold letters in a slightly curled font.

‘Ouija, Mystifying Oracle: Look into the Unknown for your Answers or Desires.��

You grew anxious, you didn’t know too much about ouija boards, but you sure knew enough to not mess around with them. 

“C’mon guys, why not just try it out? You’re telling me when you were kids you didn’t play around with stuff like this?” Kalim asked, excitedly taking the board out of the box onto your apartment floor. He found the directions, attempting to read the letters that were enscribed in ink on the paper, but they were far too faded to even be legible.

“You have completely different ideas of fun from Y/N and I,” Vil retorted, looking completely turned off from even glancing at the board. Yet as Kalim messed with the board, it caught more of his attention, keeping an eye on the object and not saying a word. Which in the blink of an eye, Vil had negated the dangers of the board by continuing on with, “But... I’m no chicken, I’ll play. What about you, Y/N?”

You felt immense pressure as you couldn’t fumble this. Your two roommates who you're on the brink of reaching friend status want to play a game, you can’t just leave them in the dust and be the one odd one out from a possible bonding experience.

You gave a quick nod and that was all they needed to proceed with the game.

They laid out the ouija board flat on the ground, rubbing off the dust from the red board. It was no cheap looking ouija board you get from Toys R. Us, you observed that from the black letters engraved on the red board with all the letters of the alphabet. Of course the wooden planchet followed the theme as well, a dark red with a petite glass bulb in the middle. 

"I can’t find this thing anywhere on the web” Vil inquired as he scrolled on his phone, scratching his head looking for directions online. 

“Yeah, but that’s what makes this one more unique!” Kalim cheered, excited to start playing, his palms on each side of the board as he talked to the princely blonde in front of him.

It was strange, they almost seem entranced by this game, it wasn't complete obsession but it was certaintly out of the ordinary for both of them. Kalim always was afraid of horror, wanting you to turn off movies when he was in your company and Vil would never make a decision this "stupid". The look in their eyes was just odd, they couldn't rip their eyes away from this thing...

And soon enough, neither would you as soon as your eyes laid on this board you were transfixed on playing.

You laid your fingers on the board, unfortunately becoming the leader for this session after drawing straws with your two roommates. 

“Go on, ask some questions,” Kalim urged with a smile, adjusting his fingers on the board.

“Uhm, what’s your name?” You questioned, awaiting for the chip to start sliding. The letters started moving, making all three of you freak out, you couldn’t tell if they were playing some type of trick on you but you felt extremely afraid regardless. 

C.

D.

“CD?” you asked, confused on what type of name that would be. 

“Maybe, it’s the initials? ,” Vil suggested, staring at the board, trying to gauge some form of sense from it. 

“Whatever, just keep asking questions,” Kalim said, trying to get some more fun energy flowing, which had always been something he excelled at. 

“Okay, let’s ask something only we would know. What is Kalim’s favorite color?”

G.

R.

A.

Y.

“Listen, if you guys want to play a bit on me that’s cool, but I kinda wanted to see if it would work by itself,” Kalim pouted, looking disappointed in you both. 

“Kalim, I thought your favorite color was light blue?” Vil asked quirking up an eyebrow, as they had this conversation only two weeks ago. 

“Yeah but…I changed my mind only a couple of days ago…” Kalim answered, he had never told anyone about his change in opinion. 

“Okay, I guess than put something down only you would know, not anyone else '' Vil suggested, and both of you complied. 

“What is the color of the bag under my bed?”

“Which customer always orders the frappe, carmel drizzle on the side, cinnamon sprinkle on top, with an espresso pump?”

“What did my art teacher assign for homework last night?”

Black striped.

Mrs. Han.

Essay. Da Vinci. 

“No fucking way, are you sure you guys aren’t playing a prank on me? Y/N, I put that bag under my bed two days ago. Did you go snooping?” 

“Vil, I’ve been too tired from work to go and look at what's under your bed. I haven’t set a foot in there since last week when I told you to vacuum,” you answered, completely honest with your hands by your head in defense, almost offended at such accusations.

“I’m the only one besides you who has a good memory, but there’s no way I could remember all that shit. I-I only remember events, not orders,” Kalim said, his voice wavering.

“You weren’t even home to talk about what homework you had assigned last night," Vil looked, a tone of disbelief and shock lining his voice.

It all seemed too real, so you decided to ask something you had never told anyone except for your family. The reason why you even moved from your old complex. 

“Mrs. Jameson...she died, what was her room number?”

1.

2.

3.

All of a sudden, the vintage alarm clock that sat on the quaint stand near your couch struck 12:30am. So did the grandfather clock Kalim thrifted ages ago, both of which you didn’t even know could make noise. 

You both rushed to turn it off so you wouldn’t disrupt anyone in the complex since it was already close to 1 am, the rancorous groan echoed through your apartment, completely snapping you two out of your trance.

You finally pulled the lever on the side that silenced elderly clock. But your peace did not last for long, you soon heard a heavy crash. Sounding as though all of your windows had broken and all the glasses in your cabinets had descended on your kitchen floor. All three of you picked yourselves off of the floor rushing to the kitchen, only to see absolutely nothing. 

You had all attempted to locate a source of the noise, this whole event made you so irritated and frightened that you couldn't pin point a source as to who or what was causing this torment. It couldn't be that this phantom was real, that shit only happens in movies after all.

Except as you searched throughout the room, your eyes noticed something on the ground. The paper was worn out parchment with vermillion ink reading the numbers 123. 

Freaked out from this "coincidence", you quickly dropped it on the floor, the paper then slowly started to singe, becoming only a small particles of black on the ground right before all of you. 

You didn't stick around for long and neither did the two boys, as you all knew you had to get out of this house for if you had stayed who knows what would happen to the three of you.

Which lead you to the nearest burger joint to discuss plans, and possibly how to fix this at 2am. Kalim took responsibility for paying for a baptism from a priest, while Vil pointed out the mistakes your group had made over burgers, nuggets and fries even though he too had participated.

Once the baptism had commenced a couple of days later, Kalim and Vil felt as though the weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. The weird happenings like open cabinets, broken dishes, your computer turning on by itself, the lights flickering on and off had completely stopped.

There was no more evil in your home, yet why were you still haunted? 

It wasn’t complete anxiety, you were never looking over your shoulder to see what was going on, but something just felt off. You were having strange dreams of the same night of playing the ouiji board, except you were all alone. However you just toughed it out, and blamed it on nerves. 

Three months later.

Vil’s courses at his university had gotten a lot more rigorous, he was spending more time at the library to the point it became a second home. While Kalim had been swaddled with work at the art emporium his parent's owned, needing to adopt some responsibility for one of the many family businesses they owned. So for the time being, you were left alone for an extensive amount of time, yet it seemed as if someone were always there, no matter what. 

Just watching...you.

But it was all just nerves, right?

Maybe some creep from an apartment building over was watching you?

But you had absolutely no time to be worrying over things that were all in your head, as you were in a financial pickle to say the least, You were working a shift at the coffee shop, “The Barista’s” . It was an incredibly packed and fast day and you were working front and center, and like always you were understaffed. The order was an online order, which requested a coffee, totally black which was a little out of the regular since but there was no time to pass judgement and it had made your life easier. Who were you to complain?

Once you finished you looked over at the second coworker on your shift and asked her for the order name to put on the cup to call out into the crowd. 

“Oh, um it’s CD? That’s it.”

Your eyes shot open wide, looking at the screen of placed online orders, your eyes scrolling down to the latest one.

Damien- 12:30pm

Amy- 12: 45 pm

Jamie- 1:00pm

Maria- 1:12pm

CD- 1:23pm 

No fucking way. This had to be some sick prank maybe from the guys. You never talked to anyone but them about this, not wanting to spread word or make you look crazy and alongside be made fun of for your ignorant mistake of playing that game period. It seemed as though this force had become upset that you wouldn’t acknowledge their existence enough, becoming insistent and infringing on your life. Afterall, how dare you blame this damage on nerves? 

A man came inside, you felt a shiver down your spine, he was dressed in all black, a button up with black pants and boots to match, adorning black circle sunglasses. It felt like he was concealing something, the way he moved seemed ominous and calculated. 

He smirked once he caught your gaze, you both knew that you were afraid, afraid to call out the two letters on that damn cup.

“Order for…C.D?” 

The man rose up from his seat, ready to grab his coffee that you left on the counter to avoid contact with him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said in a honeyed voice, and right as you instinctively turned around.

There was no trace of him, he had vanished into thin air. 

 Not one customer had called you by name today, not even the sweet old ladies that make sure to call you by it when placing their orders. Whilst getting ready today you had been neglectful of the lack of weight on your chest, quickly realizing why.

You had forgotten to wear your nametag today. 

So how did that complete stranger know your name?

Timeskip

You had gotten off of work at 6:30pm, and your roommates hadn't gotten home yet and probably wouldn't for at least two hours. As you slipped your key into the hole and unlocked your door, you felt an icy breeze hit your face. It was near summer, yet this room managed to be frozen over in temperature. You had turned on the lights, the yellowed lighting bringing you slight ease.

Yet it felt as though there was a presence in the room with you, it was unnerving and unbearable. It had been this way for months, yet it showed no sign of stopping and you grew tired of this never ending feeling. It was isolating that you were the only person within your apartment to feel this way, with Kalim and Vil only giving you a "no" to asking them if they feel anxious. You couldn't stand driving yourself insane so, against all of your best judgement you decided to face your feelings head on. 

“Listen, I know I’m not alone in this house. Show yourself to me, now,” you commanded, yet your voice seemed to betray you. Wavering in tone and assertiveness, exposing your true feelings of being afraid and overwhelmed. The ceiling above you started to creek and moan, almost testing the waters of your nerves.

“I know it’s you…C.D.” 

The ground began to rumble and quiver, the lights once bringing a reassuring light shook alongside it. You grew completely terrified, falling to the floor, catching yourself with your own hands as lightbulbs crackled and hissed as they hit the wooden floors, leaving you in complete darkness.  

The only safe haven that allowed you to see in this abyss of your apartment is right where you were standing. A gray light above your head, only providing a circle of illumination where you stood.  

“You are quite brave, I'll give you that, human.” 

A pure black hand with nails as sharp and long as knives, gripped your wrist from the pool of darkness surrounding you. Screaming, you shook and wriggled your arm fiercely allowing the grip of the hand off of you. Your resistance had made the demon cackle. 

“W-who are you?” you exasperated, clutching onto your wrist wrung with red marks from the struggle. 

“You already know my name, you summoned me after all,” the darkness retorted.

“What...What do you want?!” you asked, trying your best to appear tough, despite shaking from fear.

“Ah, so many questions... but I’m willing to answer. It’s something that all demons from hell crave-,” the demon said, letting the vintage radio Kalim had bought two weeks ago finish. 

“A soul,” the old timey voice sang from the fuzzy speaker making the demon giggle. 

“Isn’t it funny how we can do that? I think it’s a great party trick” the archfiend jested, “hoping” that you would agree. As the creature of darkness joked, the voice began to inch closer and closer. There was no way to run from whoever this thing was.

“Now, mortal I will give you two decisions. One; you may surrender your soul to me your soul. Or you must subject yourself to a long lasting search and you get me my memories,” the shadowed room stated. 

“What happens if I get you your memories?” you asked, most definitely wanting to keep your soul. 

“Well, I am proclaimed innocent, no longer needing to serve the underworld and I am free. You see, my family was cursed by an ancient witch, and every single son within the family is doomed to spend their days in hell. Once you get to hell, you have all of your memory wiped and it is manifested into actual items on Earth,” this spirit C.D explained to you from the shadows. “If you manage to get all seven of these items, we’ll both be free. Fail, I get your soul, I stay in hell.” 

Weighing your options, you realized that they both ended with you losing. But even if you had the slightest chance of winning, you’re going to take it. 

“I...will help you find your memories,” you said hesitantly, making him laugh. 

You could hear the smirk extend on his lips, he was highly entertained with your act of resistance. It was surprising and in a sadistic way, a great form of amusement for him. "Hm...very well then, mortal. Extend your hand, we need to shake on it for it to become an actual done deal,” C.D explained, making his elongated, obsidian stained hand into your circle.

You took his hand into yours, shaking it only for a couple of seconds only for you to feel a painful burn on your wrist where his fingers lay. You were tattooed with the numbers “123” on your wrist with a shade darker of your skintone. 

“What did you do to me?!” you exclaimed, holding your wrist once more, an electrifying pain seeping throughout your arm. 

“You need my vision in order to see the artifacts. And don’t worry too much, only you can see the marking and can make others see it if you wish. It’ll go away once our deal is done,” the demon explained, thinking that it was quite obvious.

“Oh, and it’s also a part of the deal that I have to live in this home so-”

“No fucking way you’re staying here in my house,” you growled angrily, completely exasperated from this ordeal of horror.

“Woah, woah, woah I’m not the one whose soul is on the line here. I don’t need to eat or drink anything so I rarely do it. And again same rules apply, if you want to let Thing One and Thing Two see me then you can. If you want to keep this a secret, then again, you can,” CD snapped back.

“But, why C.D and why this damn number?” you asked, staring down at your wrist.

 There was a silence in the room before C.D answered, “It was my lucky number... supposed to be angel number when I get to heaven. Whenever you see it, just know that I’m around somewhere. And C.D is a nickname, the only thing the devil left me was my name from when I was a human, Cater. Cater Diamond.” 

There was a snap, light had entered your apartment completely. The once popped lightbulbs were restored back to normal, alongside with other disturbed items like picture frames and furniture. There was no sign of the body that belonged to the voice that was speaking to you.

Only once you turned around to see him in his human form sitting on the small black sofa in the corner. Spooked by his presence as you let out a yelp, it made him let out a chuckle. 

“Now, we have a deal, don’t we?” He asked for the final time, making you nod your head. 

The demon lowered his blacked out sunglasses, revealing his amber-colored eyes.

“Excellent. It was good doing business with you, Y/N.” 

~~~

Coming soon- Chapter Two: A New Roommate

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist! This was fun to write and I hope I can create more content for you guys :D<3

[ichorai]

afterlife ; yelena belova.

track eleven of BROKEN MACHINE.

sequel to the scientist & the assassin.

pairing ; yelena belova & gn!reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x spouse!reader

synopsis ; her sister was dead. she’d lost everyone she’d ever known. and she didn’t know you—at least not as well as she’d like to know her sister’s spouse, but yelena wanted to try. that was the least she could do.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; angst, mild fluff

warnings / includes ; talks of death, set after events of endgame and hawkeye series, grief and angst, liho cameo & hawkeye/kate mention, someone pls give yelena a hug rn :( also it isn't mentioned anywhere in the fic but i'm a yelena aroace truther so pls don't read into their relationship as anything but platonic !!

a/n ; sorry i haven't posted anything in sooo long </3 life's been tough :( but i hit 7.8k followers and that's just so crazy to me, thank you for sticking around !! (i still haven't finished my 6k milestone this is sickening)

main masterlist.

There was a ridiculous sort of homeliness to the stout little house Yelena stood in front of. Long plants dangled from the slanted roofs, and the bulbous lamp hanging by the door glowed a merry shade of amber. Even the doormat was endearing, a shoddy brown scratcher with a black imprint of a cat’s paw in the center. Yelena wiped the soles of her combat boots against it, blowing out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. 

Places like this—places that reeked of home and warmth—they weren’t made for people like her. At least, that was what she was conditioned into believing her entire life. People like her didn’t deserve to have a home.

But her sister had broken the cycle. She’d escaped. They were one and the same as children—a statue and its shadow—and yet they’d gone down vastly different paths in life. Natasha found a new family, she’d found love, she’d found a home. What did Yelena have?

And that’s what made it all the stranger for Yelena to be standing in front of this little house. A part of her was afraid that if she stepped inside, it would crumble apart in front of her.

It was her sister’s home, and yet she was afraid to linger. The house that her sister used to live in before she… before…

Yelena screwed her lips off to the side and bit the inside of her cheek. 

Before she could change her mind, she rapped her knuckles against the polished wood of the door thrice. Two more times after that for good measure. The doorbell was right there, Yelena noticed a little too late.

When the entrance creaked open, the blonde had to grit her teeth and keep her feet planted, because a large part of her wanted to turn and run. Yelena Belova had been on the run for a large part of her life. So much of her childhood was lost to the wind of discreet cars and disguises. She couldn’t stomach the idea of facing something real and something true. 

Your face peered out from behind the door, features curious and softened with exhaust. For a moment, she could see the scientist in you: the way your gaze darted all over her, searching for clues as to who she was. Trying to piece together the puzzle that was Yelena Belova. 

Quite a few pieces were missing from that puzzle. Yelena was sure it’d never be complete, really.

“Hello. I’m sorry, who are you?” you asked, brows cinching together. 

You were beautiful, even with the fatigue weighing over your shoulders, even with the tender skin beneath your eyes that darkened with tears and lost sleep. Yelena could see why her sister loved you so much. 

When the blonde in front of you whispered her name, you took a slight step back. From shock or from fear, Yelena couldn’t quite tell. 

A spark of recognition danced over your countenance. You’d seen faded pictures of your wife and her sister when they were children. She had the same eyes as that child. The same hair, the same nose, the same lips. But people change, faces morph, and personalities are discarded. You could never be too careful. After all—your wife was a widow. 

“Prove it,” you murmured. 

Yelena leveled her eyes with you. Then, she let out the shrill, two-toned whistle. The one Natasha would do to signal to you, to Clint, to her loved ones.

A lump formed in your throat, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You stepped to the side and muttered a quiet apology, inviting her to come into your home. 

Yelena stomped her boots against the welcome mat twice, not wanting to be a rude guest by tracking mud all over the floors, and slipped into the house. Her sister’s home.

There were fragments of Natasha everywhere. In the framed pictures, in her initials embroidered into the handcloths in the kitchen, in the rows of linguistic books lining the bookshelves. 

You were anxiously twisting your hands together, studying the way Yelena took everything in. Noticing that her eyes were lingering on the books, you ventured to tell her, “She was learning Arabic. During the Blip, that is. Got pretty decent at it, actually.”

Before she could think of a reply, maybe a rather petty retort that Yelena already knew Arabic, a curious meow broke her attention away from you, down to the ground. There was a little black cat pattering its way to her, eyes shining and ears pricked.

“You have a cat?” she murmured, lowering herself to her knees so she could reach out and ruffle its small head.

“Liho was Nat’s birthday present. Well, one of her presents,” you said, a faint smile twitching the corner of your lips at the memory of the failed collapsible motorbike. There was a brief moment of silence, all quiet except for Liho’s pleased purring. “You want a cup of tea?” you eventually asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

She gave you a nod, and you whisked away, grateful for something to occupy yourself with. Yelena found herself studying the house more—the pictures, the mirrors, the lights. It all screamed her sister.

Some of the photos had famous Avengers on them, and Yelena couldn’t help but smile. Her sister, the famous Avenger who saved the world. Her eyes flickered over to you as you brought out a teapot and two mugs. A part of her wondered what you were doing when Natasha had died. Were you off saving the world, too? You murmured something under your breath as you scuttled back to the kitchen to fetch some sugar.

“Please, take a seat,” you said kindly, gesturing to the chair across from you. You poured the drink for her and slid it over the table for her to take. Yelena dropped three cubes of sugar into the mug with an appreciative hum. “So, uh… what happened? Were you—were you blipped?”

“Yes,” she sighed out, blowing at the far-too-hot drink over the brim of the mug. “Five years of life, gone in a blink of an eye. You?”

The two of you watched each other for some time. She lifted the cup to drink, finally. It was damn good tea. There was a citrusy, lemony sort of flavor to it.

“I was part of the half that stayed. Nat and I… we were lucky to have each other. She buried herself in her work. I had—I mean, I didn’t really have work to do anymore. Not with most people I used to work for gone.” After a longer pause, you tilted your head. “Natasha searched everywhere for you. Everywhere. She never—she never stopped looking.”

A lump formed in Yelena’s throat.

“Yeah?” she murmured. 

“Yeah.” A tear slipped down your cheek and you didn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, you smiled. “She loved you so much, Yelena.” 

She sucked a cold breath through her gritted teeth and sniffled. “What was she like?”

There were a few seconds of silence. You pondered on her question for quite some time. How were you supposed to summarize your entire world in just a few sentences?

“She was incredible. In every way, really. Smart, beautiful, funny, level-headed. But most of all, she was kind. I think that’s what threw a lot of people off about her. They know she’s an ex-assassin, and she’s not exactly a trusting person… and I guess it’s easy to make assumptions about her with just that. But she was so kind.” You had to pause to swallow around the lump in your throat. “She was patient and understanding. For her to… to sacrifice everything and leave the universe while saving it—that’s the Natasha I know.”

Yelena blew her nose into a tissue when you pushed a box of Kleenex towards her. “I’m here because of her. She’s… she’s a hero.”

“She is.”

With a watery laugh, Yelena said through her tears, “I tried to kill her friend. Your friend, too, I’m guessing. Clint Barton. I was told that he killed her.”

A grim expression flickered over your face as you pursed your lips. “Yeah. He told me. Didn’t sound too happy over the phone. But… he’s doing alright. Has his own little sidekick now, from what I gathered during the call.”

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena said with a mirthful glint to her eyes. “She hit me in the face, you know.”

You arched a brow. “Did you deserve it?”

Yelena frowned and lifted a shoulder in a sheepish shrug. “Probably.”

The two of you grinned at each other, cheeks damp. 

Then, her beam melted away. “I didn’t want to believe that Natasha was selfish enough to sacrifice herself to save half of the entire world. Ironic, right?”

You traced the rim of your mug with a finger. “I remember the day it happened. They each came back from the past in a blink of an eye. Except the space beside Clint was empty. Steve caught me before I could fall to the ground when I realized what she’d done.”

“All these powerful heroes,” Yelena whispered. Her voice warbled and swayed, like a feather amidst a hurricane. “And the one that saved the universe was my big sister. She had no powers. Just her and her stupidly big heart.”

“And decades of training,” you added on.

“Yeah. That, too.” Yelena’s shoulders began to shake. “I just miss her so much.”

Abandoning your drink, you got up from the table and stepped to Yelena, pulling her into a warm hug. She began to tremble harder under your grip, winding her arms around you, seeking solace in your warmth. 

“She missed you, too,” you murmured. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over you. “I hope you know that you’re always welcome here, Yelena. You’re my sister now, too.”

After a second, Yelena sputtered an apology and slumped back, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I’m so bad at this. Emotions and all that crap.”

“That’s okay,” you told her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Yelena could see why Natasha loved you so much. You were kind like her.

“I grew up in a fake family. None of it was ever real, even if it felt like it was. But Natasha… she was always real to me. Now that she’s gone, the only real part of my life went with her, as well. And you—you’re real. Real to Natasha. And I… I know we just met, but I want you to be real for me, too. Not only as my sister’s spouse, but… as a friend, a sibling. I’d like to try.”

You gave her a warm smile, and reached out to pat her cheek twice, wiping the dampness away with your thumb. “I’d like that, Yelena.”

The two of you embraced again, and she nearly burst into tears upon realizing that you were the first person she’d hugged since she was blipped away.

“Did Natasha ever tell you how she broke my nose when we were kids?” she asked into the fabric of the hoodie you were wearing. 

You pulled away with a skeptical gaze. “She told me you broke your own nose.”

The blonde laughed, low and chesty. “Man, do I have a lot of stories to tell you.”

[widowsistersandfriends]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Request: Hey there! First of all, I want to say that your stories are amazing and I love reading them <3! They bring me the kind of comfort I can't get anywhere else. I'm fairly new Tumblr user, so I don't know how things actually work here, and I don't even know if you accept story suggestions. But anyway, I have a little idea that I don't feel I'm talented enough to write myself. I don't automatically assume that you will do anything, but I would be more than happy and grateful if you would ever find the time to even consider my suggestion. ❤

Idea: Y/n is really afraid of spiders. One day Natasha she starts discussing it with Natasha. Natasha, being a Black Widow herself, doesn't understand how anyone can be afraid of something as small as a harmless spider. The conversation soon turns into a playful pillow fight where Natasha accidentally finds out that Y/n is ticklish.

+

hi!! I love reading fanfics you made, but I was wondering would you write another natasha and her sister (reader) story? Thx and have a nice day 💛

Note: Thank you so much for these wonderful requests! I appreciate you guys reading my fics and I am glad you like them! I went ahead and combined these requests, as I felt they went well together. Enjoy! <3

Word Count: 1423

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You were Natasha’s little sister and you adored her. You looked up to her in every way and wanted to be just like her. You were always excited to spend time with her, and today was one of those days. You and Natasha were having a sleepover and you two were preparing for it. First, you two went to the supermarket nearby to pick up snacks.

You immediately went to the candy aisle, much to Natasha’s amusement. 

“You know, Y/N, if you’re too energetic and hyped on sugar, I’m gonna have to find a way to calm you down,” Natasha warned you.

“It’s fine, I can tolerate large amounts of sugar,” you replied, taking a large pack of Twix and a bag of M&M’s off the shelf.

“You want anything?” You asked.

“Hmm, I’ll take a KitKat,” Natasha said, as you smiled, knowing that it was her favorite.

You and Natasha then went to get some microwave popcorn bags, a bottle of lemonade, and some paper plates. While she wasn’t looking, you snuck in a large pack of Oreos. You two also got some arts and crafts supplies that you planned on using at your sleepover.

After you guys bought all the items, Natasha surprised you by swinging by the pizzeria and picking up pizza for dinner, as it was 6pm already. 

“I got your favorite, Y/N, pepperoni with sausage and mushrooms,” Natasha said, as your mouth watered. 

You thanked Natasha for getting pizza as you guys headed home. You jumped out of the car, eager to get the sleepover started.

You set out two paper plates on the table and poured some lemonade for both of you. You guys sat down at the kitchen table and chatted while eating dinner.

“So what do you want to do first?” Natasha asked you.

“I want to do an arts and crafts project!” You cheered.

“Then arts and crafts it shall be!” Natasha declared.

After dinner, you guys threw your plates away and headed upstairs to your shared bedroom. 

Natasha pulled out the arts and crafts supplies, consisting of paint, paintbrushes, canvases, and materials to make friendship bracelets.

You took some of the painting supplies and began to paint a picture. You had been working on your art skills for a while, and you decided to attempt to paint a cabin in the mountains with a lake and beautiful nature nearby.

When you two were done painting, you showed each other what you created. Natasha had painted the Statue of Liberty, which turned out pretty decent. 

“Wow, Y/N, I had no idea you had gotten that good at painting. I remember when you used to just throw random colors on there, and now look at you. All grown up and an expert at painting,” Natasha said, tussling your hair as you beamed with pride.

Afterwards, you decided to make friendship bracelets for each other. You chose red thread and decorated it with various colors and spelled out her name.

You guys traded bracelets and then began to set up for the movie. You got the popcorn out and heated it up before pouring it into a large bowl to share. You also made sure to bring the candy over. 

After the movie, you guys changed into your pajamas and headed back to your room to play games and chat. 

After a while, the conversation had shifted into a deeper topic about fears. You thought your fears were silly, but you wanted to share them with the person you trusted the most. 

“I guess I’m sorta afraid of spiders,” you admitted, looking down into your lap.

“Spiders?” Natasha asked, as you nodded.

“It’s just weird because your average spider won’t do any harm, so I feel silly for being afraid of them.

“Y/N, it’s perfectly normal to be afraid of spiders or anything really. We all have our fears, even if we don’t fully understand them. I mean, part of me doesn’t quite understand it since I’m a black widow myself,” Natasha said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I’m not afraid of you because you’re not an actual spider,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Wow rude! The disrespect to the original black widow,” Natasha gasped, reaching for a nearby pillow and whacking you with it.

“Pillow fight!” You declared, grabbing another pillow and fighting back. You two whacked each other and giggled endlessly, both not wanting to give in. Natasha lunged and reached to grab your pillow so she would have all the power. However, her hand missed the pillow and she ended up grabbing onto your side, causing you to squeal and jump away.

“Oh sorry Y/N! Are you okay?” Natasha asked, as you were still processing what just happened. 

“Oh, what yeah, I’m okay,” you said, looking away in embarrassment. 

Natasha gave you a weird look, knowing that something was off. Then she finally realized what had happened.

“Ohhhh, I see. Somebody’s ticklish huh?” Natasha said, now inching closer to you.

“No! I’m not!!” You cried, scooting away from her. 

Natasha knew you were bluffing, so she pounced on you and pinned your arms to your side, while tickling your stomach and ribs, making you cackle with laughter.

“NATAHAHAHASHA STAHAHAHAP,” you shouted, kicking your legs underneath her. 

“How come you never told me you were ticklish?” She asked, sneaking her hands into your armpits.

“BEHECAUSE YOU AHAHARE MEHEHEAN,” you squealed, clamping your arms as best as you could. 

“Excuse me?” Natasha said, leaning down to blow a raspberry on your tummy. Your laughter went silent as you shook your head. Your sister gave you a break, but kept your arms pinned.

“Can’t you let me go?” You whined.

“I certainly cannot since I finally found a way to calm you down after all that sugar,” Natasha teased, as she now reached down to shake into your ribs and tickle between the sensitive, vulnerable bones.

“YOHOU JEHEHERK,” you laughed, cursing yourself that you let her find out.

“Where else are you ticklish?” Natasha asked, giving your knees and thighs a squeeze, which gave her a few giggles. 

“Hmm, how about…your feet?” Natasha said, with a growing evil grin as she saw you panic.

“NO PLEASE! NOT MY FEHEEHET,” you squealed, as she began to scribble over your soft and sensitive feet.

“Why not? It’s such a great spot!” Natasha cooed, as you squirmed and thrashed around. 

After she felt you had enough, she helped you sit up.

“Y/N, I have a way to help you get over your fear of spiders,” Natasha said.

“How?” You asked.

She snuck her hand under your shirt to scratch lightly at your back, causing you to gasp and jerk away.

“HAHA NAHAHAT,” you laughed, as she held you still.

“Just imagine that my hand is a spider. See? Harmless, besides the fact that it’s ticklish,” Natasha said with a smirk.

“Now try and stay still,” Natasha said, wiggling her nails all over your back.

You scrunched your face up, trying not to laugh, but couldn’t help but squirm at the touch.

“You’re really that ticklish?” Natasha asked, now tickling your sides to make you collapse in laughter.

“YEHEHES NOHOHOW STAHAHAP,” you begged.

“Not until you’re over your fear of spiders~,” Natasha said, now singing the itsy bitsy spider as she walked her nails over your back.

You snorted as she reached the top of your back, right before your neck.

“Is your neck also ticklish?” Natasha asked, as you shook your head vigorously.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but instead wiggled her nails against the back of your neck. You curled up into a ball, swatting at her while laughing.

“Get over here you little troublemaker,” Natasha said, now squeezing the back of your neck, causing you to squeal and beg for mercy.

“Oh alright, you’ve had enough,” Natasha said, now releasing you from her grip.

“Thanks for helping me try to get over my fear of spiders,” you said, snuggling up against her.

“Are you still afraid of me?” Natasha asked with a smile.

“Well, now you made me have two fears. Spiders and the tickle monster,” you said, poking her ribs.

She swatted your hands away with a glare.

“Well, the tickle monster isn’t ticklish,” Natasha said, as you took that as a challenge.

You snuck your finger under her arm when she wasn’t looking, causing her to yelp and jerk her arm down.

“Y/N! I warned you!” Natasha said, pinning you down for round two of tickle torture.

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 2

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Blood consumption, mention of deceased family members, trauma responses by an abuse victim. Summary: Meeting your new roommates is an exercise in opposites. Notes: Introducing Max and Eddie! And a photo of the dining room to boot 🍷

Ch 1

It's a long day of getting lost in your own house when you finally venture out of your room later, and even though the house is large it is still inviting. That gray bedroom upstairs feels like it's meant for someone and you just can't put your finger on who. The statues in the marble hall beside the library seem to want to leap to life. Every book on every shelf is just begging to be read. Mrs. Taylor is kind enough to make you a light but delicious lunch and reminds you that you can do whatever you like in your own house when you sheepishly ask if it's okay to eat it in the library.

After spending about an hour in the evening walking around the grounds – all fourteen enormous acres of grounds – you come back inside to find a cup of hot cocoa waiting for you in your room and you park yourself very firmly on the chaise by the window just like Renee had suggested. Everything is quiet as the sun goes down, and only afterward do you hear movement elsewhere on the floor.

Eddie groans as he opens his door and drops the bag of books by the door. His professors are assholes and the classes are boring but he hates the idea of going to the advisors and changing his classes even more, so he's stuck for the next semester at least. "What a day." His comment is directed towards no one, he hadn't even sought out Mrs. Taylor or Renee when he got here. Wanting to just shut himself away and forget the tantalizing smell of human for a bit.

“I’m sorry?” You were standing in the hall when you heard the words, just a bare and exasperated sigh, but you’re more afraid of making one of these men angry by lurking around than you are of what they might say if you introduced yourself so you put your courage to the sticking place and knock on the door frame that you saw the young man head toward.

"Oh!" Eddie whirls around, and it's a moment before he tilts his head in confusion and curiosity. "I didn't know anyone else was up here." He admits, his long, lanky form folding in on itself in that awkward way that the youthful still carry until they are comfortable in their own bodies. Shooting you a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. "Sorry."

“Don’t be. I’m the one who surprised you, not the other way around.” You’re only half visible at the corner of the door frame and – after a second of internal debate – step out fully into view and introduce yourself.

“Oh! You’re the new owner.” Eddie eyes light up and he rushes forward to greet you. Instead of shaking your hand, he pulls you into a brief hug, only remembering you know nothing about him when you stiffen immediately. “Sorry.”

"I just got here this morning." He seems friendly but you weren't expecting the hug at all and you freeze when he squeezes you. "Are you...um...Mrs. Taylor said the other residents were named Max and Eddie?"

“I’m Eddie.” He steps back and searches your face, aware that you are on edge and despite his youthful face, he’s older and more experienced than he appears. “Nice to meet you.”

"It's nice to meet you, too." At least, it is so far, and you have no intention of being rude. "Did you...know Ms. Brown very well?" It feels odd to call her your great-aunt considering you had no idea who she was before she died, so you'll stick to her name for now.

“Cookie? Yeah.” He smiles fondly at the thought of the old bird and chuckles. “I spent hours listening to her stories. She was a hoot.”

Renee seemed to have a similar reaction of nostalgia when asked about the previous owner, and that makes you relax a little. Obviously the people that surrounded her were glad to know her, which is a very good thing. "I wish I could have known her."

Eddie’s face falls slightly, remembering that you were never in contact with Cookie and why. He doesn’t know the complete story but he has just enough of an idea to be sorry about it. “I’m sure that you would have liked her.”

"I'm sorry," you fidget slightly and frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t.” Eddie is jumping to reassure you. Not wanting you to feel bad about anything that was beyond your control. “Sooooooo…” he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How do you like it so far?”

"The house is beautiful." That is an understatement, but since you're sure he's just being polite to his new roommate you don't want to gush in detail. Instead you narrow it down to a single question. "That...that little house thing out on the grounds." It looked like a little cottage, with flowers carefully planted in specific patterns out in front and two statues of life-sized bunnies sitting sentinel at the opening of the brick wall. "Do you know what it is? Or...what it was used for?" You hadn't dared to go in, but ever since you walked away from it, you wish you had tried the doorknob.

"It used to be Cookie's teahouse." Eddie tells you, lighting up with a smile. "Do you want to go see?" He asks, motioning towards the window. "I can come with you. I spent a lot of time there with her when the weather was nice. She would love to sit out there and have tea and smell the flowers from the gardens."

"Would that be okay?" It's still all new to you – the idea that you actually own this place and aren't encroaching on someone else's space – and the question is automatic.

"Of course." Eddie senses that you aren't used to being allowed to do things, and he wants to frown, but he also doesn't want you to think that he's upset again. "We could have tea out there sometime if you like the place." He offers.

"That...actually sounds really nice." He's so friendly. And seems so normal. It's an enormous comfort after the upheaval of the last few days. "I don't want to step on anyone's toes or be in the way. But tea sounds really nice."

"How are you going to step on anyone's toes?" He asks incredulously. "You are the boss." That might not have sunk in for you, but Eddie is happy to remind you. He's not sure if Max would or not. "Come on, let's go adventure."

"You and Max have been living here for a while already." It doesn't matter that you don't know for sure about the ‘a while’ part, but you're certain they've been here longer than a single day and that gives them rank in your mind. Nevertheless, you let Eddie snag your arm and steer you back toward the great hall and the master stairwell.

"Max and I are actually pretty good roommates." He assures you. "We aren't loud, although we do stay up late. But we don't hold wild parties and act crazy."

"I usually stay up late, too." Never having been a morning person, you had tended to gravitate towards things that happened at night instead of in the brightest part of the day. Until Derek, of course. He had encouraged you to find something full-time with regular hours, and that had meant a 9-5. "Are you a student?" You had seen the Salve Regina University notebook on his desk when you looked into his room earlier, and there was a large bookbag in his room just now when you met him.

"I am." He groans quietly, rolling his eyes playfully as he looks over at you. "It's soooooo much fun." He complains. "No, it's not really bad, but I'm just in that slump that comes with hating all your classes one semester."

“I remember that.” You nod a little as you head down the stairs together. Now that you’ve walked around it a few times, the house is getting a little easier to navigate. “That was spring semester of sophomore year for me.”

It doesn't help that Eddie feels like he's been in school forever, but he nods. "So what is your favorite part?" He asks. "The house I mean."

“The library, I think.” It’s certainly the place you spent the most time today, besides your own room. “I can’t believe it actually has a ballroom, though.” The dark wood frames of the yellow floral furniture caught your eye every time you passed them today and always made you smile privately. “I can’t imagine it gets used much anymore.”

"It could be." Eddie chuckles. "I bet if you talked to the right people, that ballroom would be filled with people who want to pretend to be a part of the gilded age, or are just nosy." He hums. "Or just really like canapés."

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” It does make you smile though, the notion of a party that big, rather than being sad that you can’t think of a single person you would actually invite to it. Your only family were your parents and they died just before you started college. And any friends you made during that time stopped talking to you years ago.

"Friends will come out of the woodwork." Eddie does frown slightly at that, hoping that you aren't hurt by social climbers and people with less than honest intentions. He doesn't think that it would be allowed for long if he's honest. "Just make sure that you don't offer money to anyone."

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to be speaking from experience, or at least authority, and you nod. “So…can I ask how you knew Cookie? It’s just…I really know nothing about her and then she went and left me all of this. I wish I could have met her at least once.”

"Through my...father." He admits. "Adoptive." He shrugs slightly. "It's kind of hard to explain, but I've known Cookie since I was a kid." That's true in a manner of speaking. "She is the one who taught me my manners."

“Well, she did a very good job.” You won’t pry into his background at all. Families are always complicated. “It seems like manners were kind of her thing? Mrs. Taylor implied that, anyway.”

"Yes and no." Eddie grins again. "Manners were always important until it was time to be impolite." He intones seriously, quoting Cookie. "Be friendly to everyone, but prepare to tear them apart."

“Be friendly to everyone but prepare to tear them apart.” Repeating the quote paints a picture of a very interesting lady and you think back a little. “Sort of like… If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me, that Alice Roosevelt Longworth quote. They have the same energy.”

"Exactly." Eddie laughs and the two of you are out the front door of the house and down the steps to walk across the manicured lawn.

“Sounds like she was fun.” And for some reason that draws a pang of something like regret or longing from you.

"Hopefully we can provide you that same energy." He supplies with a smirk. "Or at least not annoy you."

“It takes a lot to annoy me.” If it didn’t, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like before now.

"I don't know." Eddie chuckles. "You haven't met us when we want to be weird." He teases, hoping to get a laugh out of you. You seem like you need to laugh more.

“Do your worst,” you challenge good naturedly, just wanting to put him at ease. He’s nice. Nice and normal. And you’ve been missing normal in your life.

“You asked for it.” He warns playfully. Leaning in, he drops his voice to a whisper. “I drink milk in my tea.”

Taken aback by yet more normalcy, you end up giggling along with Eddie as you walk through the grounds together. It’s after dark and the moon is bright tonight, shining down on the grass everywhere. It isn’t late yet, barely close to dinner time, but the moon is out. “I’ll never tell,” you promise him with a laugh. “Because I do, too.”

“Well damn.” He snaps his fingers in disappointment. “I was hoping to show you how odd I was.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder than that,” you tease as the little teahouse comes into view.

“If you wanted to decorate this space, there’s furniture in the attic.” Eddie tells you. “Both in the main house and the carriage house.”

“No one would mind?” Again, your first instinct is permission.

His laughter is soft, not wanting you to feel foolish about your consideration of others. “No. I’ll help you move anything you want. And Renee would love to organize.”

“Maybe…” You tilt your head, glancing over at Eddie while you walk but refocusing when the little stucco teahouse comes up in front of you. It’s surrounded by a little brick wall and has little porthole windows and a cute, dark green door that you fell in love with immediately. “Maybe next time you have a day without classes?” You ask, not wanting to put him out but loving the idea of a space like this to make a sanctuary out of.

“I have half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He pipes up. “And of course the weekends. No classes then. So ask for help whenever and I’ll give you a hand.” He reaches for the doorknob. “I’ve always imagined it as a witchy little cottage.”

It feels so much less proper than the house when Eddie opens the door to let you both in. Sure there is a little table covered with a lace doily, but the single light hanging from the ceiling and the mahogany and crimson velvet seats are all extremely gothic. It looks like something plucked out of an Anne Rice novel. “Oh…it’s perfect!” You sigh out immediately, the gut reaction to the space overwhelming you. Little shelves hold some books and photographs, and you pause with your fingers nearly touched a polished silver framed photo of a woman who looks like she’s in her fifties with a young girl in her lap. They look wonderfully happy, but something about it strikes you as odd. Not that you can put your finger on it, but it’s there all the same.

Eddie shuffles slightly as you study the picture. “So, uh, how do you like it?” He asks, rushing forward to open the little stove door that’s sitting in the corner. “She liked making her tea right here. Drove Mrs. Taylor crazy because she wanted to make it for her, but she would just cackle and send her back to the house for cookies and sandwiches.”

“It sounds like she was happy here.” Which is something that is becoming surprisingly important to you, the more you learn about this absent relative. “That makes it even better.”

"This is the spot that she met her soulmate." Eddie tells you. "At least, that's what she said." He doesn't know how much to tell you, so he keeps it vague. Knowing that things will be revealed to you later. When you've settled in.

“Right here?” You look around you, wondering if you are remembering wrong. You could have sworn the lawyer said her soulmate built the house for her. “Is…that why he built her the house?”

"Yes." Eddie shrugs slightly. "She didn't talk about it much. But she told me that one day when she was feeling nostalgic about the past."

“I think finding your soulmate is one of those things you’re supposed to feel a little nostalgic about forever.” Although that does make you shrug, and you shove your hands in your pockets as you pace around the small interior of the teahouse. “I’m guessing.”

Eddie just hums, unsure of what to say to that. He doesn't want press in case you have hard feelings about your soulmate. "What do you think about the space?"

“I think it’s cozy.” Looking around you, you can see the threads of a happy, comfortable life and feel a pang of longing… or maybe jealousy. Wishing you had your own soulmate to share all this with. Whoever they were, their marks had disappeared about four years ago. “And that if no one truly minds, I think I might like to spend some time out here while the weather is still good.”

"You can spend time wherever you wish." Eddie smiles. "When the weather is cold, I'll help you build up little fires in the stove." He promises. "You'd be amazed how warm it gets out here."

“I guess I should buy snow boots?” In Tennessee they were never necessary. “When does winter start around here?”

"Whenever it wants to." Eddie jokes with a laugh. "Don't worry. I think there are about five hundred pairs in the mud room."

“Hopefully we’ll have plenty of time.” It’s not even October yet and the crisp autumn air whips through the little room little a tease, bringing some fallen leaves with it.

"The days will be shorter soon." Eddie looks forward to it and he grins at you. "Do you like Halloween?" He asks curiously.

“Love it.” It lights you up from the inside, a mention of your favourite day of the year. Any mention of it. “It was a big thing in my house growing up so I kind of grew up into a horror moving loving, pumpkin spice drinking, vampire loving, spooky girl.” It hadn’t been Derek’s thing at all so you had been keeping it bottled up for years. Now that you’re on your own? Who knows. Maybe it’s time to start living like a ‘spooky bitch’ like your friends in college used to say. Like the witch your parents raised you to be.

"We should decorate the manor!" Eddie immediately grins, excited about the prospect. "It's the perfect backdrop for spooky shit."

“How would our third roommate feel about that?” You ask, knowing full well that not everyone is into Halloween.

"Max?" Eddie tilts his head and chuckles. "He'll love it. The cheesier the better."

******

The half hour or so you spend outside walking the grounds with Eddie is surprisingly calming. He's excitable and not pushy at all, ready to fill awkward silences with friendly babble until you stumble across another topic you both enjoy. When you meander back to the house you find a focused Mrs. Taylor setting the dinner table for three. "Ms. Brown served dinner precisely at seven o'clock," she tells you with an expectant look. "Will that be acceptable for you as well, ma'am?"

"Of course." Far be it from you to change a routine, especially one that you have no stake in. Before now you had been eating dinner at the exact moment Derek got home from work – no matter when that was. "Should we..." you look between Mrs. Taylor and Eddie uncertainly. "Are we expected to change?" Not that you have any nice clothes, but things are very traditional here...

"No." Eddie supplies that answer, knowing that if Mrs. Taylor had her way, she would have you changing into evening dresses. She was a stickler for propriety in some ways, even more than Ms. Brown. "We don't change for dinner."

"Just checking." Although for some reason it makes you feel stupid to have even asked, and you check your watch instead. "I'll be back in ten minutes and not a moment later, Mrs. Taylor. I promise." You'll trade your shoes for slippers and your jacket for a sweater, and be back downstairs in no time. Something tells you that the extremely proper housekeeper wouldn't like to be kept waiting for even five seconds.

Mrs. Taylor nods but Eddie is the one that answers. "Take your time." He assures you. "I want to talk to her about my protein shakes." He's already figured out that you will continuously ask permission and he wants you to feel comfortable here for your first dinner.

"How was she in the garden?" Mrs. Taylor asks, once you are out of sight and she can hear your feet creak on the stairs.

"Unsure of herself." Eddie tells her seriously, frowning slightly as he looks towards the stairs. "Scared. I don't think she's been treated very well."

"She's been skittish all day. I wasn't sure if it was nerves at first but it seems to be more than that." The older woman shakes her head sadly and goes back to carefully setting out drinking glasses on the table. No wine glasses, since you had said that you don't drink, but a goblet for water and a tall glass for the iced tea recipe she had dredged out from a party decades ago.

"She's been asking permission to do anything." He confirms. "Even doing anything with the teahouse." He shakes his head. "She owns this place is asking permission to go upstairs before dinner."

"It's not exactly subtle." The housekeeper agrees, moving on to the next place setting in her exacting way. "And when she told me that she doesn't drink alcohol, I could smell the fear on her." She tuts softly, shaking her head again and making sure that your place setting at the head of the table is perfect. "Poor thing."

“Max isn’t going to like that.” Eddie knows that Max likes to uphold a certain image. “Hopefully he’s not going to scare her too badly.”

"I guess we'll see." It certainly wouldn't be the first time that Max Phillips had scared a young lady inside this house, and she's certain it wouldn't be the last. "It'll probably bother him more than I won't be serving wine at dinner anymore. Not if the lady of the house isn't partaking."

“Yeah.” Eddie rolls his eyes and hopes that Max is on his best behavior tonight. If he’s not, the old man will be pissed.

“You know your father has asked for reports?” She raises one eyebrow in Eddie’s direction but continues her work studiously. In under two minutes, she’ll have to go back downstairs. “So he needs to be. I won’t lie for him.”

“That’s between him and the old man.” Eddie holds up his hands to signify he’s not getting in the middle of this. “I just wanted her to feel like she has a friend here.”

“That’s very good of you.” She’s always liked Eddie, and things like this are a good example of why. “I’ve got to go finish dinner. Will you intercept him at the door in case he’s forgotten what day it is?”

“On my way to stand guard.” He throws Mrs. Taylor a snappy salute and disappears towards the door even though he can hear Max’s car from a mile away.

******

The stone lions by the from door are a lasting part of the Victorian air of the house, and Eddie is sitting on the step between them when Max finally starts walking up from the carriage house. He swears that obnoxious sports car gets louder every day, but it’s probably just his perception. Eddie’s little car isn’t showy on purpose.

“Did Mrs. Taylor throw you out for not shining your shoes?” Max snorts as he walks up to the younger vampire. He straightens his tie and brushes off some lint from his suit. “Is she serving AB negative today?” He asks. “The positive upset my stomach the other day.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head at his adoptive brother and pulling himself to his feet. “Max,” he huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What day is today?”

“It’s…” Max frowns slightly. “Friday. There’s a big orgy tonight at the office. You wanna come?” His brows lift up, since he knows that isn’t Eddie’s scene. It’s not been his scene in a while too, if he’s honest.

“No.” The seemingly younger of the two shakes his head again. “No, I don’t want to come, but technically yes it is Friday. More importantly, though, it’s her first day here.”

“Shit.” The grin slides off Max’s face and he shakes his head. “She’s here? I didn’t think she would be here now. What the hell did she do? Jump in her car and race here to claim her inheritance?”

“I don’t think that’s quite it.” Eddie admits, though he hasn’t worked out all the details. “She’s not greedy or anything.”

He doubts that, but Eddie is always the glass half full type. “So what’s she like? Pretty? Nah, I don’t want you to tell me.” He grins. “Better to be surprised.”

“Be nice!” Eddie practically begs, knowing Max hardly ever is. “Mrs. Taylor and Renee already like her.”

“Great.” Max rolls his eyes, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor and Renee like adopting pet projects. So now he’s fully expecting some socially awkward wallflower who couldn’t interest a plastic bag to stir in a windstorm.

“And the old man is getting reports from Mrs. Taylor,” Eddie warns. “So be nice.”

Max rolls his eyes again. “When am I not nice?” He asks sarcastically.

“Literally always.” Eddie sighs as Max pushes past him into the house without another care in the world.

He doesn’t know why this is such a big deal. Humans aren’t interesting, at least not anymore. His priorities and attitude changing since that little incident four years ago. Cooling his jets here as a form of punishment ever since. “Honey, I’m home.” Max calls out loudly as he saunters into the house.

The sound of an unfamiliar voice echoing up through the atrium catches your attention, and a curl of dread rolls through you before you pull on your sweater and head back to the stairs. No one has given you any reason to dread and yet you can’t help it — worried that the so far manageable bubble of your new life will be punctured at any second. Nothing ever stays happy, or even pleasant, for too long. You pace out to the master stairwell and wrap your cardigan around yourself like a security blanket as you go down to the dining room. Don’t project. You’re overreacting before there is anything to react to…

The problem with Max Phillips is that he knows he’s cute, and because of that, he thinks he can get away with a lot. Partly because of being in that douchey frat boy stage when he was changed, and partly as a protective front he’s adopted. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.” His chuckle rolls out behind his question, a little darker than normal.

“Hello?” From the stairs you can’t see Eddie or Mrs. Taylor anywhere, but it’s one minute until seven and you already know that Mrs. Taylor likes to be precise.

“Hello.” Max, despite what Eddie thinks, is polite. His version of polite. “Come on down and play.” He calls out teasingly.

“You…must be Max?” There’s something about him that unsettles you at first, until you turn the corner and find someone extremely handsome standing at the bottom of the stairs in a three-piece suit. This is your other roommate?

“The one and only.” He waggles his brows at you and winks. Looking you up and down and approving of what he’s seeing.

“I—it—it’s nice to meet you.” At the bottom of the stairs you can tell that he’s more physically imposing than he seemed from the platform, and your shoulders round in on themselves in response. Making yourself smaller is an automatic reflex that you don’t even notice anymore. “I’m Dolly.” Who knows why you do it. Why you introduce yourself with your nickname when you had been perfectly fine meeting Eddie with your own full name an hour ago. Who knows? But it’s that name that tumbles out of your mouth instead and that is that.

“Dolly?” His brows shoot up and his grin slowly stretches his face as he feels the need to tease you. “Yes you certainly are, sweet cheeks. Not nearly the boring little drab spinster I was imagining. Timid, but I don’t mind that.”

It might be the glee in his voice that makes you already wish you could take back the ‘nice’ part of ‘nice to meet you’, because you immediately feel like you’re on the defensive again. Like he’s a predator and you’re prey. Which is just a weird, uncomfortable thought to have immediately upon meeting someone, but you know without a doubt that if you try to get around him right now he’ll block your path. Instinct tells you so. “It’s just a nickname,” you murmur, unsure of what to do now and feeling that fight or flight instinct scratching at the back of your mind.

“It suits you.” He tells you, giving you his most charming smile as he steps closer to you. “How are you enjoying being here? Isn’t this house to die for?”

"It's very beautiful." That can't be denied, and you enjoyed looking around the grounds so much. "I think...it's..." you swallow and your eyes drop to the floor. "We should go in to dinner?"

“It’ll hold.” Max shrugs, unconcerned with that Mrs. Taylor would say. He leans in and inhales the sweet, cloying scent you are wearing, instantly addicted to it. “You smell delicious.” He groans. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s…just a spray…” No expensive bottled perfume has been in your bathroom since before your mother died, and you struggle to remember the name of the Bath & Body Works scent you have on with the clouding proximity of this intimidating man. “Vampire Blood? I think that’s what it’s called?”

“Mmmmmmhhhh, my favorite scent.” Max can’t help but lean in again, brushing his nose against your neck as he invades your personal space.

The way your pulse jumps at the touch has your whole body recoiling in response. Equal parts flight response and confusion are at war in you, and for a second you almost thought you enjoyed the touch. That’s impossible, you tell yourself sternly. Being touch starved and enjoying it are two different things.

Max leans back, resisting the urge to frown at the mixed signals your body is giving him. He can hear the way your heart sped up and smell the way your cunt reacted, but your body recoils like he is disgusting. Instead he grins and winks at you. “Shall we eat?” He asks.

“Sure.” The suggestion is welcome, and when he finally shifts aside to let you past, you move like lightning. Eddie is already in the dining room, chatting amiably with Renee as she pours cold drinks. The younger woman smiles when she catches sight of you and excuses herself to go downstairs, ready to tell Mrs. Taylor that everyone has assembled for dinner.

“Where’s the wine?” Max asks immediately, looking around at the lack of additional glasses.

“Dolly doesn’t drink.” Eddie answers immediately, having seen the discomfort in your eyes as soon as you walked in. “So Mrs. Taylor won’t be serving wine with dinner. Period.”

“Awwww really?” Max looks back at you and pouts, obviously unhappy at that news.

“I—” instantly coiling in on yourself again, you realize in the same second - to your horror - that both men have sat down on the sides of the table, putting you at the head. For a woman who has spent the last several years learning how to become part of the wallpaper, this is your worst nightmare. “I didn’t mean for everyone else to have to stop,” you murmur, although you know the smell of it will do awful things to your panicky self. Just because Derek drank too much doesn’t mean everyone else will…give them a chance to prove your fears wrong…

“No.” Eddie shakes his head adamantly and shoots Max a pointed glare. “We don’t have to drink.”

Max snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t drink champagne?” He demands, waiting until you shake your head no. “No hot toddy when you’re sick? Or a little splash of Irish whiskey in your tea on a blistering day?”

“No.” His ability to make you feel small is uncanny and unwelcome, and your eyes cast down at the table. “Not anymore.”

“Pity.” Max throws you a faux pout and then looks over at Eddie. “So, how was your day?” He asks sing-songy. “Mine was great. I sold a ten-million-dollar contract on a bunch of shit.”

“Classes aren’t great,” Eddie shrugs and brushes it off, more concerned with the way that you implied there is a reason you don’t drink. Like something happened. “Spent some time out in the teahouse this afternoon. We talked about decorating for Halloween.”

“Halloween?” Max hums, looking around the room to see if Mrs. Taylor is having a stroke. “Good idea. Maybe we can have a haunted house.”

“Whatever the lady of the house decides.” Appearing as if from nowhere with the first course, Mrs. Taylor sets a plate of beef tartare with crostini in front of each of you. “Ms. Brown threw a very dignified masquerade ball in the autumn every year for decades.”

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “When was the last time that happened?” He asks sarcastically.

“Not so long ago that I don’t remember.” Mrs. Taylor answers primly, neatly leaving out the fact that her memory stretches much longer than her appearance would make anyone think. “They were beautiful, those parties,” she hums before slipping out the door again.

“Boring.” Max huffs and taps his fingers on the table. “We should have it gothic spooky. Black candles and haunted rooms.” He grins. “Vampires.”

“If you think people would enjoy it…” The dish in front of you is familiar only in the sense that you can identify what it is from cooking shows, not that you’ve ever had it before. But you would never insult someone who has cooked for you by not eating what is served. “They’ll be your guests, not mine. All the people I know here are in this house.”

“I think that we should have a masquerade again.” Eddie interjects. “I am sure that all of society here would love to come to a ball.”

“Is there really society left?” It’s a genuine question, since you don’t know anything about this kind of life. For all you know, real rich people still eat seven course dinners and sending their kids to European boarding schools.

“I’m sure that it’s not what it once was, but yeah.” Eddie hums. Max nods. “Plenty of movers and shakers. If they know that this place is open for a party, they will come.”

“It’s something to consider, then.” A masquerade brings fantasies of dancing to mind for you, but they’re ones you’ll drown in privately. It’s been a lot of years since you danced, especially in a ballroom of any kind.

There’s a small silence as the conversation lulls. “Sooooo.” Max starts. “How about a toast?” He holds up his glass that doesn’t have wine. “To Cookie. Maybe there’s a point to bringing us all together that we can’t see right now.”

“If anybody had a plan up her sleeve, it was Cookie.” Eddie agrees, picking up his glass.

Whatever the point was or is, you can only hope it becomes apparent soon. But you raise your glass anyway, feeling like it’s the least you can do to toast the woman who left you everything and very literally changed your life. “I wish I could have met her,” you admit, a crack of a smile peeking through your expression. “But I’m very grateful for what she’s done.”

“I’m sure you are.” Max chuckles. “It’s not every day you’re given a mansion and a fortune. Got plans for it? Or still in shock?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said that I’m not the sort of person who dreams about being rich.” The first course of your dinner is only a few bites, but already you’re feeling like you won’t want more. The conversation has turned your stomach.

“Why not?” Max looks positively offended by the idea that someone wouldn’t dream of being rich. “Do what you want, when you want? Answer to no one? That’s the dream, baby.”

“For some people.” You nod, but only vaguely, knowing that you aren’t one of them. “And that’s fine. But not everyone wants to be king of the castle.”

“Queen.” Max pips up. When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles. “You’re obviously not a man, so you would be the queen of this castle.” He winks and smirks at you suggestively.

“But—” But you just said that was something that you did not want, so the feeling of being ignored and feeling stupid about it seeps deep into your bones like it has every other time before. “I—I guess. You’re…you’re right.”

“‘Course, I’m right, Dolly.” He hums in amusement. “Got an MBA in business. Hard not to be right.” There’s something vulnerable about you and he doesn’t know why he keeps pressing, but that douchey armor seems to be strong today and Max is a man who rolls with it rather than sitting and self-reflecting.

“Queen Dolly.” Eddie tries, trying to get Max to back the fuck off a little and you to at least smile. He feels weirdly protective of you since this afternoon. Like a big brother, even though he isn’t very protective of his actual adoptive siblings at all. They can all fend for themselves — it’s pretty obvious that you can’t or won’t for whatever reason.

“That’s a nickname.” Max grins. “Queenie. Yep. I like that.” He raises a brow at Eddie, as if challenging him as he looks back at your timid features. “All hail, Queenie. Ruler of the mansion.”

Instantly regretting saying anything, all Eddie can really do is shake his head. Once Max latches on to something there’s no going back. “That means you gotta listen to her,” he reminds Max pointedly.

“Oh I’ll be her subject.” Max chuckles dirtily. Even if he’s the one that likes to be in charge, he can pretend.

“That won’t be necessary.” As attractive as he might be, the lewdness and arrogance does nothing for you. Not anymore.

Rejection isn’t something that Max is unused to, but still, yours stings for some reason. That, more than any harsh looks from Eddie, makes him quiet down. Going silent through the rest of the course.

Mrs. Taylor re-emerges a few minutes later with plates laden down with filet mignon, cheesy potatoes gratin, and beautifully cooked broccoli rabe and sets one in front of each of you after clearing away the empty appetizer plates. You murmur your thanks, noticing that the steaks she set in front of both men are barely cooked, but that yours looks like it came straight out of a cookbook. Picture perfect. Not that you’ve had a steak in years, but it looks and smells amazing. All of a sudden your appetite is back, though you’re careful not to eat too quickly. This is far better food than you’re used to and you want to savor it.

“Oof.” Max winces slightly as he chews. “I think I pissed her off,” he grumbles. “She overcooked my steak.”

“Over—?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you clamp your mouth shut before you can speak even more out of turn.

“My steak is fine.” Eddie smirks. “Maybe you deserve to have your steak overcooked.”

When Max’s response is to pout, you look between the two men with curiosity. “Are you…family?” You ask, as politely as humanly possible while noticing the immensely familiar way they deal with each other. They must be brothers. Cousins, at least.

“Brothers.”

“Hell no.”

Both answers come out at the same time and each man turns to look at the other one before Max rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. “Brothers. He’s the younger, annoying at shit one. I’m the older, more handsome, more successful one.”

Eddie snorts, knowing full well that Max was only older when he was sired. As far as birth date goes, Eddie definitely has some years on Max. “Adoptive brothers,” Eddie explains, having already told you he had an adoptive father.

“Got it.” There it is. Brothers. You were right. “I was just curious.”

“Nothing wrong with being curious.” Max sincerely means that. He’s always been the curious type and he is curious about you. Cutting into his steak again, he prepares himself for the too done bite, wishing he had some wine to wash it down with.

“If we’re all going to live together I suppose we ought to get to know each other a little?” Although you could argue that you already know that you don’t think you like Max too much, your mother’s voice is in your head reminding you that it is important to give people the benefit of the doubt. You never know someone else’s story unless you take the time to get to know them.

Great, the conversation that Max doesn’t wish to have. “Nothing much to tell. Highly successful, kind of a stud.” He winks at you again. “Devilishly handsome of course.”

And an ego the size of the planet. It’s not exactly your favourite trait, and you smile weakly. “Are you from Rhode Island originally?”

“Hell no.” Max shakes his head and shrugs. “Michigan.”

“I’m from California,” Eddie offers, trying to make the conversation a little bit smoother. “Our family is varied. We’re from all over.”

You nod as if that makes all the sense in the world, even though you can’t figure out how a kid from Michigan got adopted by the same family as a kid from California. But maybe it’s none of your business. “I’m from Indiana,” you add, trying to be conversational. “Originally, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Max perks up at being in the same geographical area. “I would have assumed you were from Rhode Island.”

“Never been here before in my life.” Not that you can remember, anyway. You don’t think it was one of the vacations your family took when you were little. “I’ve lived in Indiana and Tennessee before this.”

“Why Tennessee?” Max ask, curling his nose slightly.

“College.” Even if the conversation is forced or even unpleasant, this food is amazing. You’re going to be writing Mrs. Taylor personalized thank you notes every single day if this is her standard cooking. And good food, apparently, lifts your mood. “It kind of happened by accident.”

“Like most things in life.” Max snorts. “Including me.”

“I…” You look between the brothers but Eddie is eating again and not terribly engaged. “Don’t think I understand?”

Max chuckles and holds up another bite of the steak. “I was an accident?” He says, his tone kind of questioning. “I’d have to ask my daddy.”

“Feel free to ignore him,” Eddie advises, shaking his head. “I usually do.”

“And that’s why you’re poor.” Max huffs. “Don’t take advice from him. He’s a college kid.” He makes a dismissive face. “What do college kids know?”

“Well, you seemed very proud of your degree.” You reason, looking between both men. College was some of the best and most formative years of your life, despite the hardship of having just lost your parents. “That means you must value what you learned in college quite a lot.”

You’ve got him there and he knows it. Opening his mouth for a sassy reply until he realizes he’s got no argument. Making him snap his mouth shut and eye you again. “You’re good.” He huffs, pointing his steak knife at you and shaking his head. “Gotta hand it to you.”

"My mother taught me never to criticize someone who was trying to better themself." Even mentioning her makes your voice a little smaller, but it's true.

“Sounds like she is wise woman.” Max hums. “Is she coming by soon?”

"She...died." You swallow the lump that appears instantly in your throat and look down at your empty plate. "Twelve years ago."

“Oh.” Max feels like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly. Sincerely. “I lost my parents about eight years ago myself.” They weren’t dead but Max couldn’t have contact with them after he had become a vampire. However, it felt like they were gone. Especially since they hadn’t believed he hadn’t been guilty of academic dishonesty.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It's never easy to lose someone you're close to regardless of the circumstances. There is a lull of quiet at the table as Mrs. Taylor returns to sweep away the dinner plates and replace them with all with a dish of ice cold raspberry sorbet – or, what appears to you to be raspberry sorbet. You could never know from looking at the dishes that Max and Eddie's dessert is made with blood instead of raspberry puree.

“Best part of dinner.” Max groans, diving into the blood sorbet. You don’t know what it is and Mrs. Taylor would never mix up the dishes so both men are free to indulge. Eddie makes a noise of agreement as he also attacks the dessert. They usually have blood in their wine, so this is the first real taste of human blood they’ve had the entire meal.

“Mrs. T knows her stuff.” Eddie groans in approval. The housekeeper’s age-old trick of disguising the color and texture of blood to blend in with human food is well practiced at this point. “I take it this is a favourite?” It’s almost teasing, but after just one bite you understand. If this is homemade, that thank you note you were planning on writing Mrs. Taylor is going to become a raise in salary.

“Yessssssss.” Max is scraping the bowl for every drop and licking his spoon clean. “I could eat a gallon of it every night.” He snickers.

“Oh, positively.” Eddie agrees, making himself cackle at his own bad pun.

“I think it was ‘O’ tonight.” Max grins. “O-ficially, my favorite.”

Whatever the joke is goes right over your head but you smile anyway, wanting to be polite and not derail the end of the meal the way you had a few times earlier in the night. When he's not puffing up his chest with bravado, Max is okay to be around. So you just really want to keep things at an even keel.

“Well. I guess I’ll go scream into the abyss.” Max hums as he stands. “Dolly, it was interesting meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” He smirks. “Probably over a midnight snack.”

Interesting. Interesting is never the adjective you want used to describe you in a first meeting, and your forced smile is even more strained than it would have been otherwise. Bidding both men good night, you stand from the table and make straight for the stairs — resolved not to leave your room at all tonight. And maybe to go looking for a job anyway, just to get out of the house for a little each day.

“What is the matter with you?” Eddie hisses, angry that Max made you uncomfortable.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “She’s gotta get used to bold personalities if she’s gonna fit in here.”

“She doesn’t have to fit in,” Eddie reminds him with utter exasperation. “This is her house!”

“And we live here.” Max shoots back. “Not like I want to, he’s making me.”

“Because you fucked up.” Eddie reminds him, arms folded across his chest. “You let your fuss with Evan get the best of you and you got staked, so yeah. Punishment sucks, but you’re lucky Father was there to bring you back otherwise you would have been actually dead.”

Max rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and huffs. “Yeah. Lost every goddamn good scar and tattoo too. And he won’t let me put the tattoos back.”

“You still have your birthmark.” His brother-by-siring reminds him gently. “You can still find them if you want to.” Soulmates are a sticky wicket for vampires, but it isn’t an impossible feat. After all — they’re only mostly dead.

“It’s whoever is my soulmate’s birthmark.” Max tells him. “I have no marks on this new skin.”

“The fewer ways there are to identify us, the better. You know that,” Eddie reminds him gently. “But it’s good that you still have her mark. You can find her if you want to.” He has his suspicions, honestly. There are some moments that Max let’s his guard down and his squishy, sentimental interior peeks through.

Max snorts but there’s not the derision behind it that there would normally be. “She’s human.” He reminds Eddie, frowning for a moment. “Why would I want a human soulmate?” It’s not the real question he has and has had since he was changed, but it makes him seem less vulnerable.

“It worked for our Father and Cookie. It’s not impossible.” Shifting back in his chair to stand, Eddie shrugs. “Who knows? Don’t they say opposites attract?”

Max sighs, forcing the sound out of his useless lungs. “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“You gonna go back to the office for that orgy?” One raised eyebrow is all Eddie offers, but he knows Max pretty well at this point. And the wind has been sucked out of just sails pretty hard since he got home.

“Of course I’m going to go.” Max scoffs like there was never a question of him going. “You should come too. Seriously. You need to get out and get some.”

“I’ll pass.” That’s never been Eddie’s scene, even though that makes him unusual in the vampire community. “But have fun. And don’t make me an uncle.”

“Hard to do when all the little swimmers are dead.” Max snorts.

“No siring!” Eddie reminds him, but Max is already headed for the door.

“No promises!” Max cackles as he sails out the door and lets it slam shut behind him.

******

You can hear the door slam from your room, the sound echoing up through the atrium of the Great Hall and reverberating through the walls. The windows in your bedroom face the sloping grounds of the house but you would bet anything that that was Max who just left – off to do god knows what, and you don't even know why you care to think about it. All you can do is shake the thought from your head and hope it stays out. When that doesn't work you wander down to the library to snag a book from the shelf and tuck yourself under a blanket on the chaise in your bedroom next to the window for the rest of the night. A distraction – any distraction – is better than the racing thoughts that are a constant barrage in your mind.

The room is lit up, almost a beacon when Max returns. Barely an hour later. He had found that when he walked in the door, the orgy already started, he wasn’t interested. Which in turn, pissed him off. Why wasn’t he interested? Had been before that dinner and now the blood he had drank seems to roll in his stomach. Walking closer the house and seeing that someone – you – is perched in front of the window, absorbed in a book.

The movement in the shadows below you doesn't do a thing to break your concentration. For the first time in ages you have all the time in the world to do what you want, and what you want is to travel back to Thornfield Hall with Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester. Nothing and no one is here to stop you, and that is a beautiful kind of miracle. The cup of cocoa that Renee brought up to you before saying good night is long since empty and you've added a second blanket to your cozy little nest to keep out the chill, but it's perfect. Nothing could disturb you right now.

You look like a princess in a tower. Even with the hollow-eyed looks that Max had pretended weren’t from a lifetime of abuse. At who’s hands is a guess, but there’s something about you that screams ‘please don’t’ and he is curious as to why.

Remaining oblivious to being watched is a blessing tonight. You shift on the chaise and readjust your position, laying your head on the top of the seat and cradling the book in your arms like it's the most precious treasure in the world. Today has been...stranger than you ever could have imagined. But like this? You can actually begin to think of a future where this house might one day feel like home.

One of the magical, mystical things about being a vampire is the ability to transform. He could become any creature that he wanted, but his overwhelming sense of sarcastic irony meant that he would become a bat. His body changing within moments, without the poof of smoke like in the movies, and he flaps his wings to get a closer look.

With the window open beside you, you feel the change in the breeze before you see anything different. A faint difference in the way the wind is blowing catches your attention, but doesn't distract you. What distracts is when you look out at the small balcony at your full-length windows and see a bat sitting there watching you with gleaming eyes.

Most people would probably be freaked out. Maybe even scream or recoil, or at least be startled. But you've always been a little bit more predisposed to things the world considers spooky than most, so you smile instead. If Disney princesses attract songbirds and wild forest animals, then you're surely just a Goth Disney Princess with a bat finding its way to your window instead of a cardinal or blue jay. "Hey cutie." You grin over at the little creature. "You live here too? Maybe in the attic or one of those big beech trees out back? I bet you do."

He’s surprised that you aren’t terrified of him. Most women would never talk to a bat but he finds it charming. He hops up onto the window ledge and flaps his wings, letting out a soft sound.

"You squeakin' at me, cutie?" Laughing softly, you briefly debate how bad of an idea it would be to let the little thing inside or even let it close to you. Bats carry diseases, don't they? Somehow you just can't bring yourself to care too much. This little buddy is too sweet.

He should be indignant that you, a mere human, isn’t terrified of him, but he flaps his wings again and decides that he will see how sturdy your resolve is. Taking flight, he circles your head twice before landing on your shoulder.

"Look who's a brave boy," you find yourself cooing to a creature that every single friend you've ever had would shriek at the actual presence of. The fact is, unless this little bat does something to harm you? It's just existing. Just trying to get by in a world that isn't necessarily always friendly towards creatures that aren't the most attractive or the most useful. And that...hits disturbingly close to home for you right now. "You wanna stay up there, cutie? Or do you want a little bed to snuggle up in?" Do bats snuggle? Who the fuck knows. But you still carve out a divot for it in your throw blankets all the same.

The fact that you are creating a little space in your lap for him making him smirk and trill. He doesn’t fly this time. He hops down your arm with the long, slow walk of the bats as they move over tree branches.

"Look at you!" The way you squeak in delight is almost the same as the little bat's sounds -- which you have to imagine are happy sounds. They sound happy, at least. "You want me to read to you, cutie? A little story time even though you have no idea what I'm saying?" You never thought the day would come that you wanted to pet a bat, but here you are. The little guy is just too stinkin' cute.

He trills again, grinning at how adorably you light up at his current form. None of the rounded shoulders and shy persona. He stomps around the little spot you made for him and folds his wings back as he stares up at you.

"Well go on, snuggle up." Somehow you could swear that this little bat can understand you, and it's the most peculiar thing in the world because you're not scared at all. Not even the smallest amount of apprehension in the back of your mind is there to cloud your enjoyment of this odd little moment. When the little sweetheart plops down in the middle of the nest that you made for him, you pick up your book rather dramatically and clear your throat. "It's called Jane Eyre," you explain to the bat, amused at the whimsy of the moment.

Of course you would read Jane Eyre. Max would roll his eyes in his human form but he just blinks and settles down into the little space you made him. It’s pretty nice to have someone not swat at him, or scream. He coos, wishing that you would pet him. That would make this even better.

"Let's see..." Finding your place on the page, you hum to yourself and settle in again with your back resting against the comfortably upholstered chaise lounge. "...a message came that I and Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed Adele’s hair and made her neat, and having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch — all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement — we descended, Adele wondering whether the petit coffre was at length come; for, owing to some mistake, its arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified: there it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room. She appeared to know it by instinct." As you read, letting the feeling and comfort of the cool breeze wash over you and your new little friend, the fingers of your free hand find the bat's soft little head instinctively. So what if bats have diseases? You decide about three seconds after first stroking its little head. They're so soft and snuggly. I'll take antibiotics, but I'm keeping my little friend.

He’s almost surprised when you touch him and in the bat’s form, your fingers feel larger, yet they are gentle. Immediately pulling a sound that could only be described as pure pleasure out of him as his head moves towards your hand for more contact.

“Awwe, you like that?” It reminds you of the cat you had growing up, the way the little bat nudges into your touch, and you automatically open up your hand a little more to let it get comfortable for more scratches and pets as you continue reading.

Max could get used to this. Finding the relaxed and almost giggling persona of yours charming as you pet a bat. And the scratches he’s getting is like his own little personal massage. You obviously find bats to be cute and he doesn’t mind the reading so much now that you are petting him. Trilling and almost purring for you.

Sitting and reading a gothic romance novel to a bat might be the most edgy teen girl thing you’ve done in a hell of a long time, but before you know it the book in your hand is heavy and so are your eyelids. Who knows when it got to be so late, or when you got to be so tired, but falling asleep beside the open window with a happy little bat in your lap and an open book on your chest is the most contented you’ve felt in years.

Max listens to your heartbeat. Slow and steady in your chest. Nearly half as slow as when you are awake. Telling him that you have entered the dream world if you dream. He flutters his wings and moves off of you before he changes back to his human form. Staring down at you in confusion and contentment. It was the oddest evening he’s had in a long time, but probably the most satisfying. Defining you can’t sleep on the chaise, he uses the infinite strength of his kind to carefully scoop you up into his arms to carry you the fifteen feet to your bed. Tucking you in and watching you curl onto your side as he covers you up. Closing the window, he glances at you again before stealing out of your bedroom to make his way to his own, wondering if you will remember tonight when you wake up.

______

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[luciferlightbringer]

Not A Drop

Here is the one shot for my first giveaway winner @monluciferly! Enjoy!

Lucifer x Sinner reader

Word Count: 2.4k

CW: Trauma, War, Anxiety, Fluff, Fear, Depictions of Violence

The night before the extermination had finally come, and everyone that would be involved in the next day’s battle against Heaven was at the hotel celebrating together. Lucifer sat at the bar and looked around the room at all of the faces of sinners he had barely gotten to know, Rosie’s band of cannibals, the residents of the hotel, his daughter Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie, and finally, you.

Lucifer heaved a great sigh as he looked at you, partly out of love and partly out of fear. You had arrived at the hotel not long before Lucifer had his first visit to the hotel when he had reconnected with Charlie. He had started to get to know everyone at the hotel after that, but something about you really drew his attention.

You treated him like a normal person, you treated him with respect but didn’t trip over his royal status. You weren’t afraid of him either, you just accepted him as he was. You had the patience of a saint, yet somehow you ended up here, in Hell. Neither of you knew why you had ended up here, but you had accepted it with grace, making statements of how if you were there it must have been for a reason, and you had come to the hotel to help others and try your own hand at redemption.

He clenched his fist thinking of it. How could fate be so unfair, that an angel like you would end up here instead of in Heaven where you belonged? Away for all of this, blind to the idea of war. Away from him and all the trouble he was. But no, instead you were here to be part of the light that kept him going, and being so irritatingly stubborn at your decision to take part in the war, no matter how hard he pleaded for you to stay out of it. To stay at his manor and be protected from the angels.

You two had only confessed your blossoming feelings for each other the night before, and though it made Lucifer want you out of the war completely, it had only deepened your resolve to fight. If you two loved each other, you would fight to protect anything he loved and held dear, especially Charlie. He loved and hated that. He just wished you could understand how he wanted that protection for you too. That if he had it his way, that he would be the only one fighting. This was the first time he had started developing feelings for anyone since Lilith, and he did not want that to slip away in an instant.

You excused yourself from your conversation with Vaggie and Charlie to walk over to Lucifer. He watched breathlessly as you walked towards him. Golly, you were beautiful. You stopped just short of him.

“You plan on just staring at me longingly across the room all night?” You ask with a cheeky smile.

Lucifer sighed “Maybe… just want to savor this, in case…”

You tipped his chin up to meet your gaze, “Oh stop it, you act like I am so fragile,” you chuckle, “I’ll be fine. I’m a tough girl, I tie my own sandals and everything.” You gave him a soft, playful punch to the arm.

He gave a weak laugh and looked away for a moment, and then back to you, studying your face.

“There is really nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”

You shook your head, “Nope! I need to do this. I already ran from one fight, I’m not running from this one.”

Lucifer sighed with defeat, remembering the story of what had caused your death in the first place. A few weeks ago, you had told Lucifer the story of how you had been caught in a street fight with your brother and his friend. You weren’t involved in any of the gangs in your area, but they still ran the streets where you lived, and when they happened you needed to defend yourself or run. Half decisions were a death sentence. Your brother and his friend had guns on them, they offered you another, but you were scared and refused. Your brother had covered you while you ran, and he ended up getting killed, you stopped and turned to see him fall to the ground instead of continuing to run, and that is when the next bullet came for you.

Lucifer knew that you believed this was your second chance to redeem yourself. That something like this might be what gets you into Heaven, or at least, atone for what happened that night. He looked down at your angelic weapon of choice, a sword where you had written your brother’s name on the inside of the hilt. He looked up at you and cupped your check, giving you a soft smile.

“Alright, can I at least steal you away for the rest of the night?” He said holding out his other hand. You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. You both said goodbye to the rest of the hotel crew before teleporting of to Lucifer’s room to snuggle the night away. At least with you by his side he was likely to get some sleep that night.

———————————————————————————————

The next morning, you all were outside of the hotel, weapons prepped for battle, ready for the onslaught of angelic exorcists. Lucifer stayed out of sight, also prepped and ready, but only for if the right combination of things happened that would allow him to join the battle. Due to the deal with Heaven, he was not able to intervene unless a hellborn was attacked, which meant either Charlie or her guardian’s Razzle and Dazzle. If you were attacked, Lucifer would be unable to aid you unless the first requirement was already fulfilled to be able to enter battle.

He was so conflicted on how he wanted this all to play out. He hoped his presence was not needed at all, but he wished he could be by both Charlie’s and your side from the jump. But he needed to follow the rules, which drove him crazy.

Soon the portal from heaven opened, and an army of angels started to pour out into the red skies of hell, led by Adam, the first man himself. Lucifer felt his blood boil just looking at him, but he held back. He watched as the beginnings of the battle started to unfold, starting off with Alastor creating a magical barrier that separated the hotel from half of the angels, giving those on the ground more of a chance to pick off the few angels that had been trapped inside. Lucifer hated to admit it, but it was a good strategy.

Lucifer continued to remain at a distance, watching the battle is it unfolded. Inside of the magical dome, you and the others were beginning to take down the angels that have been trapped inside with you. Feeling your sword cut through the air, and send the golden blood of angels splattering to the ground made you feel proud. You weren’t a fan of violence, but you were proud to be doing your part to protect the hotel. Hearing Charlie’s comments of hope also made you smile.

You heard a loud crack, and you looked up to see Alastor’s dome was smashed apart by Adam, and they began their fight up on the roof of the hotel. Without the barrier, the group started to have a lot harder time, keeping up with all of the angels, including you.

Lucifer’s anxiety was increasing as he watched the scene continue to unfold. Charlie seemed to be handling herself, especially with Vaggie at her side, but you were slowing down. He watched as Adam came down and started to attack everyone on the ground, then Pentious giving his life for everyone else. Charlie summoned more of her demonic power and called Razzle and Dazzle into their full form.

“That’s my girl,” Lucifer whispered to himself.

He then watched as Adam struck Razzle, and as if he were released from shackles that were holding him in place, he unfurled his wings and bolted for you right as an exorcists was about to plunge a sword into your shoulder, and he quickly zipped you off to the sidelines.

You wiggled and fought his hold “Lucifer?! Put me down! I need to fight!!”

“Ňø ŷøų ðøņ’ț!” He yelled in a demonic tone, horns out and eyes red. It made you stop, you had never seen him like this. He caught himself and his face returned to normal.

“I’m sorry… I…” he looked up and saw a cut on you face dripping red blood, mortal blood. He grabbed your hands, “I’m so thankful for everything you have done, for Charlie, for the hotel. The criteria has been met for me to be able to finish this off, and I plan to. I need you to stay up here.” He looked over your face, you opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I could hurt them. I could kill all of them, but not you. If it was up to me,” he reached up to swipe his fingers along your check to heal the cut, “you’d never see a single drop of your own blood again.”

Your eyes welled with tears and you smiled, putting your hand atop his on your check and leaning in to softly kiss him on the lips. You broke the kiss and leaned your forehead against his.

“Ok, I’ll stand down. Now go get that son of a bitch, baby!”

Lucifer hugged you right and then jumped off with a smile and flew back over to the battlefield, plunging his fist straight into the side of Adam’s face as he loomed over Charlie atop the hotel roof. Adam went flying and Lucifer caught Charlie as she fell.

“Dad?” She looked up at him with a smile.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to be here sooner, sweetie,” Lucifer said as he set Charlie down.

Adam grunted as he dragged himself out of the rubble, “OK seriously? How many of you freaks am I going to have to fight?”

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, and started to walk towards Adam, “Oh, I’m the only one that matters. You see you mess with my daughter, and now, I am going to fuck you!”

The entire battlefield went silent with confusion for a second.

Charlie leaned in closer to her father and whispered “It’s “fuck you up”, Dad.”

“Wait, what did I say-“

Lucifer was cut off by Adam lunging at him, and then flying into a wall together. Lucifer quickly brushed himself off and took the fight to the skies. He started teasing Adam as he dodged Adams attacks like they were nothing. Eventually, Adam got fed up and sent a blast of angelic light through the center of the hotel sending it to crumble into pieces, Charlie falling along with it. Luckily, in the last second Lucifer was able to scoop up Charlie again.

“I got ya,” he smiled down at her.

She smiled back up again before seeing Adam fly down at them, “Dad, look out!” They turned together worked to grab Adam and send him flying into the rubble of the hotel below.

Adam landed hard into the ground, breaking off the remainder of his mask, and showing his human face. Lucifer flew down with Charlie in one arm, his full demon form out on display, all six of his wings flapping angrily, fire spitting from his mouth.

“Yøů çømę äț mē ąñð mŷ ðæűğħțěř?! Ðøń’ț føřġęț, ÿøū’řę ïn MŸ ħøůşę, bįțçħ!” He says in a demonic voice, setting down Charlie and starting to beat Adam to a pulp on the ground. He is about to strike Adam with a blow of fire before Charlie stops him.

“Whoa, whoa, Dad! He’s had enough.” Lucifer looks up at Charlie and then back down at the mangled first man below him. He nods and gets up “How’s is mercy taste, you little bitch?”

“No,” Adam says trying to get up, he was now surrounded by the rest of the hotel crew, “You don’t get to end this. I am Adam! I am the fucking man! And you are just some clown or somethin’! I started everything on earth, all of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshiping me, you ungrateful disgusting, fucking losers!”

At that point a knife skewered through Adam’s chest from the back, his eyes went wide, and his mouth hung a gape, before he to forward, revealing Niffty holding onto the opposite end of the knife.

Everyone stared at her in disbelief.

“Niffty?!” Charlie shouted.

Niffty looked down, smiled, and continued to stab Adam’s lifeless body, sending more golden blood spilling across the ground.

Lute, Adam’s second in command screamed and flew over to his lifeless body. Lucifer walked up to her and loomed over her, she looked up at his smirk.

“Now, take your little friends, and ĞØ ĦØMĘ! Please,” He said with a smile.

Lute growled and reluctantly whistled for the other angels, opened the portal back to Heaven, and they all flew away.

The rest of you looked around the war-torn grounds of where the Hazbin Hotel once stood, and collectively breathed a sigh of relief and sadness. Lucifer went to go give Charlie a long and reassuring hug before flying back over to you.

You were so happy and relieved to see him fly towards you, you didn’t even wait for him to get all the way to you before, jumping up and into his arms, where he pulled you in tightly and spun you around in the air.

“You did it! You won!” You cheered as your eyes filled with tears, then you looked down at the remains of the hotel.

“No, we won, my love,” he then dipped you mid air and gave you a long passionate kiss. You sighed and held him as closely as you could before he broke the kiss.

“Now! I don’t know about you, but I think we have a hotel to rebuild,” he said looking into your eyes.

You smiled brightly at him, “Let’s do this!”

[stayteezdreams]

Halloween Requests - CLOSED

Status: CLOSED

These are requests for my 13 Days of Halloween in which I post 1 or more content posts every day from October 19th to the 31st. *some requests may not be written, and some may be saved to come out later on (if they are not strictly Halloween specific).

Who I write For: *will update if a member or group is requested too much

Ateez *No longer taking requests for Yunho!

Stray Kids

Seventeen

Tomorrow x Together

The Boyz

*all members of each group (x gn!reader)

13 Days of Halloween 2023 Masterlist

Things I do not write:

Detailed NSFW/Smut (suggestive content and PG13 is doable)

Pregnancy/child Content

Abuse/Member cheating

***Notes*** You can send in the number of the prompt(s) instead of the prompt itself if you want, but please specify which section it is from (dialogue, plot or scenario)

Feel free to send in your own ideas with or without prompts as well! These are just some ideas for inspiration :)

You can request 1-3 Prompts at once; feel free to mix and match or add a plot-line to your request.

If you are not sure who to request for, but like a prompt, go ahead and send a preferred group and the prompt and I will choose who to write it for.

*Crossed out Prompts are those I have received and are no longer available to request*

**No longer taking requests for** Ateez (all members) S.Coups Seungmin Bang Chan

Prompts under the cut!

Dialogue Prompts:

“I don’t think I’m alone in here.”

“This place creeps me out.”

“I thought I saw something.”

“Don’t you dare leave me in here alone.”

“You’re not scared of me?” “Should I be?”

"I don't believe in ghosts." "You will after tonight."

"If you say we should split up I will kill you."

“Love the costume but I’d rather see what’s under it.”

"Just because I'm not afraid of the dark, doesn't mean I like being in it"

"What do we do?" "Run!"

"Did you see that too?" "Yes." "Damn, I was hoping I was going crazy."

 “What do you do when a ghost has a crush on you? Asking for a friend.”

“I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?” “Hopefully all of them…”

"Who needs a guardian angel when you can have a half-decent demon?"

"If I knew all it would take for you to hug me was a haunted house I would have brought you to one earlier."

"I've seen enough horror movies to know where this is going"

"If you get scared you can hold onto me." "Oh you'd love that wouldn't you?" "Very much."

"Are you scared?" "No." "Then why are you holding onto me so tightly?"

"I couldn't find a costume so I decided to come as your boyfriend."

"Where is that music coming from?"

"You look stupid" "I'm dressed as you."

"I know what you should be for Halloween." "What?" "Mine."

"Ghosts aren't real" "Then why is that person see-through?"

"I don't want you to wear that"

"Stop touching my hand." "I'm not touching your hand."

"Why is that guy staring at me?" "What guy?"

"Would you stop breathing so loudly!?" "I thought that was you"

"Why wont you come inside?" "You have to invite me in." "What are you, a vampire?"

"All the Angels were busy, so they sent me instead." "And what are you?" "Well I'm definitely no angel."

"Stop staring at me like that." "If you didn't want me to stare, you shouldn't have worn that."

"Are you and 'x' dating?" "No, why?" "Then why are you wearing a couples costume?"

Plot Prompts:

You get left behind in a haunted house and one of the cute actors helps you out and gets revenge on said "friends".

Meeting at a Masquerade

Lost in the woods

Carnival/Fair Date

A grabs B’s hand instinctively out of surprise or fear, and continues to hold it.

Finding out the "monster" costume they're wearing isn't a costume (monster/demon/supernatural au)

Visiting a pumpkin patch

Every Halloween you are visited by a stranger in your dreams, but this year, he shows up at your door in the real world.

Haunted House

Someone summoned a demon to take your soul, but the demon likes you too much to hurt you.

Choosing each other's costumes, and unknowingly matching.

You're scared and they try their best to comfort you.

Hearing a noise upstairs, but you live alone.

Ghost Hunting

Vampire Frat - you know the guys in the house beside you are Vampires. But they don't know you're a witch. Until Halloween, when your powers grow stronger, they can't help but notice odd things happening around you.

A cute guy shows up trick or treating with their younger sibling/family member, he comes back later just to see you again.

At a Halloween themed carnival/fair and the scary yet attractive actor wont stop following you around.

Cinderella/Masquerade AU: You recognize them but they don't recognize you. Don't tell them who you are and they search for you (college/office au - or something similar?)

You save a cat/dog/other animals on the street, only to wake up the next day to find a man in it's place instead.

You move into your newly purchased house, only to discover someone or something already lives there.

Every Halloween for the last 5 years, a package mysteriously shows up in your house. This year, instead of a package, you find a stranger waiting for you.

Halloween Date

You are invited to an office Halloween party, and someone in a monster mask seems to want to keep you company. But who is it?

Jealousy: You attend a Halloween party and 'x' can't handle the attention you are getting from others, this causes them to make their feelings known.

College Au Carnival Game: Bobbing for apples but the apple you manage to get indicates who you will go on a date with.

Cozy autumn camping trip with friends leads to confession from someone.

They mistake you as their friend at a costume party and accidentally kidnap you.

Seven Minutes in Hell: You lose a game and have to spend 7 minutes in a haunted house with 'x'.

Halloween Movie Night: You have a movie night with your friends and your crush takes the opportunity to get cozy with you.

Abandoned: You are left in the woods by a bad friend, you know there is something or someone in the woods with you, but you get the feeling they're watching over you.

Scenario/Headcanons Prompts: *will do multiple members or whole group if requested *some of these might include drabbles

How 'x' reacts to you wearing a sexy/appealing costume

How 'x' reacts to you wanted to wear a couples costume + what you end up dressing as

What you would do for a Halloween/Autumn themed date

You choose each other's costumes

*Crossed out Prompts are those I have received and are no longer available to request*

Feel free to send in your own ideas with or without prompts as well! These are just some ideas for inspiration :)

You can request 1-3 Prompts at once; feel free to mix and match or add a plot-line to your request.