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scentedpepper · 5 months ago

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Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

#stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #will byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #max mayfeild #dustin henderson #angst #billy hargrove is gay

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yandereshingeki · 1 year ago

Text

Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

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Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend.

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had.

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms.

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?”

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation.

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had.

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning.

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice.

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips.

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free.

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!”

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering, “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you.

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose.

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them.

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back.

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever! Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?”

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent.

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart.

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it.

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening.

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much.

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt.

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.”

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room.

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over.

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu.

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears.

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often.

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest.

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.”

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

“Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax.

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul.

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved.

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.”

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it.

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips.

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil.

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.”

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch.

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare.

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?”

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you.

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand.

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason.

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing.

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again.

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning.

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do.

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat.

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race.

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst.

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines.

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too.

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat.

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again.

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it.

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling.

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time.

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you.

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing.

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation.

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling.

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice.

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?”

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth.

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?”

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.”

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

taglist; @kpostedsum @missyasma @localdepressedvampire @chateks @erenyeagerdrip00 @beclover @tiffanyy-21 @momoewn @alienvarmint @berriesandcrem @erenjagerwifee @Sashaisahoeee @jkeluv @bobateasilverpearl (ask to join, and since it's been a while let me know if you changed your username and want to be back on the taglist or leave it! <;3)

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becauseimanicequeen · 3 months ago

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Clocks, Watches, and Time in 4 Minutes

We're halfway into 4 Minutes and I thought I would write a bit about the different ways they use clocks, watches, and time in the show (so far).

I've already written about time a lot in my timelines post, but I just can't seem to stop thinking about this, so here I am... Again.

We all know time matters in this show. What I love about it, though, is the attention to detail. Because the details matter. They're being super intentional with them.

Don't believe me? Then let me show you.

When Great picks up Korn's phone at the bar and tries to open it (in ep 4), it says 09:10 pm:

But, the small clock at the top left on Korn's phone says 11:02 when Great snoops through it:

That's just Great continuing to see this anomaly when he's alone (it also tells us he's still at his 11:02 stage in this episode).

But then, when he sends the text about Nan's location to his own phone, Korn's phone still says 11:02 at the top:

But the text Great just sent to his own phone was sent at 09:12 pm because the phone knows what time it is even if Great can't see it:

See?

It's about the details of this show!

All the clocks and watches matter in 4 Minutes, not just the obvious or big ass ones they focus on to capture our attention. All the clocks/watches matter because they're intentionally set by the crew (I'm a thousand percent sure about this).

Now, let's look at some different ways they use time in the show.

So far (in chronological order), we've seen time used for showing:

Cold openings

Great's time anomaly (11:00-11:02 so far)

Great's 4-minute phenomenon (which Den calls it in his research)

Different timelines/realities in scenes that follow each other chronologically

Digital vs analog clocks/watches

Differences in 24-hour and 12-hour settings on digital clocks

The 4-minute time limit

Different timelines/realities in the same scene

Let's go through these one by one and hope that I can work within the image limit (seriously tumblr, I need more than 30 images per post, lol).

Cold Openings

The first two episodes open with events that happen outside the events of the rest of their episodes.

The first episode starts with Tyme getting shot and a patient in the ICU having a cardiac arrest (whom I, and many others, believe to be Great).

The second episode opens with Tonkla beating the shit out of someone with a rock.

Both these openings are isolated events that aren't connected to any of the bigger timelines or other events, yet.

Great's Time Anomaly

This is every time he sees 11:00-11:02 (which is as far as the clock has come at this point).

It started at 11:00 in the 1st episode:

Then it turned to 11:01 in the 2nd episode:

And 11:02 as Great was watching the clock in the 3rd episode:

So far, he's still at his 11:02 stage (which we saw on Korn's phone in the 4th episode). But I think the ominous ticking will continue in the next episode (or the 6th episode at the very latest).

Great's 4-Minute Phenomenon

Great has had 6 4-minute phenomenons (4MP) so far:

Hitting Manee (ep 1)

Bumping into Tyme at the hospital (ep 1)

Seeing Title beat the shit out of Dome (ep 2)

When he had a conversation with Tyme at Uni (ep 3)

His and Tyme's argument at the hospital (ep 4)

Seeing Samarn shoot Nan (ep 4)

The first 4 in the list above include clocks to show that Great is jumping back 4 minutes (I will only show 2 of them because I need to save images, lol).

When he arrives at the hospital in the 1st episode:

After he's bumped into Tyme:

After he's sent back:

When he walks away from Tyme after their conversation at Uni:

After he's been sent back:

The last two in the list above don't include clocks at all, probably because Great (and we as viewers) know what's going on when he has his 4MPs in the 4th episode. We don't need it explained again.

Different Timelines/Realities in Scenes that Follow Each Other Chronologically

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

Chronologically, the scene where Korn is with Tonkla in the 1st episode is followed by the family dinner, which is followed by Korn dropping Great off at home.

Interestingly enough, Korn arrives at Tonkla's place at 07:15-ish pm:

Tonkla wants a second round at 08:55 pm, just as Korn's dad calls and wants Korn home for dinner:

Then, when Korn drops Great off at his condo after dinner, Korn's watch says 07:15-ish:

While the clock on Great's phone says 07:13:

This is all meant to be the same day Great hit Manee. Everyone (Great, Korn, their dad, and Great's mom) is wearing the same clothes throughout these scenes that happen on the same day. Yet, the times are different.

(Technically, Korn drops Great off at the same time as he arrives at Tonkla's place, which is super interesting.)

Digital vs Analog Clocks/Watches

I've already gathered the digital and analog clocks/watches from the first 2 episodes in a separate post (including the ones we've seen in the teaser and trailer).

I won't add images of them here (since I need to save images for the rest of the post, lol), but you can see them throughout this post.

Both digital and analog clocks/watches have a prominent place in the show, even though the digital clocks are more obvious and attention-grabbing.

I haven't yet figured out if there's a pattern behind the use of either in certain scenes or situations. Analog watches can obviously be a luxury item, so Great and Korn's watches are more than likely used for that reason as well. But other than that...

Great use and is surrounded by both digital and analog clocks and watches. Korn always wears analog clocks, but his times are shown on his phone as well. I'm pretty sure Tyme's watch is a digital one. The clocks at the hospital are digital (I can't remember if I've seen an analog clock there). Yet, the staff at the hospital have a mix of digital and analog watches.

So... I don't know. But at least they show a variety of clocks so it doesn't get boring, lol.

Differences in 24-hour and 12-Hour Settings on Digital Clocks

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

The hospital seems to have a 24-hour setting in some cases, as we saw from the image of the clock on the front desk saying 13:10 when Great arrived (image above), but not in other cases even though this is in the evening:

Since it's the same hospital, I would find it strange if the clocks had different settings (or perhaps that's just me, lol). Perhaps, then, this is a way to show different timelines/realities (since Manee is, more than likely, dead in the real timeline/reality).

Interestingly, Great seems to have both settings on his phone as well (or, the phone is showing the time as 12 hours wrong).

The clock on his phone, when Korn drops him off after their family dinner (image above), says 07:13 while his phone at the hospital shows 13:14 (image above) and 16:33 and 16:29 when having his conversation with Tyme at Uni (images above).

His phone is clearly set on a 24-hour setting, yet, it says 07:13 at night? Obviously, he could've changed the setting after that night. But it could also indicate that different timelines/realities are present.

The 4-Minute Time Limit

This showed up in the 3rd episode in a vision Great had of himself and a mystery woman (who we now know is Lukwa) in a gallery:

It also shows up in the 4th episode as Lukwa talks to Den about this gallery and the mystery man (who we know is Great):

And we learned (even though most of us knew it already) that this is the limit of time a brain can survive without oxygen.

Different Timelines/Realities in the Same Scene

The clocks/watches were screaming at me in the 4th episode, to a point where I couldn't ignore them even if I wanted to (which I didn't). I've written about this in my timelines post already, but I'll summarize my thoughts about it here.

Korn and Great were in different times in the scene are the bar. Korn started the scene at 06:50 pm:

While Great's watch showed 03:20-ish when he arrived at the bar (after my ramble in my timelines post about this, I thought it was most logical if this was am for Great considering the scenes that follow):

Great's time is consistent to him as it turns to 03:50-ish while they're still in the middle of drinking:

While Korn's time stays consistent with him, which could be seen when Great grabbed Korns phone and it showed 09:10 pm when he tried to open it (image above).

It's also interesting to note that, if we follow Great's time from the bar, then he's kissing Tyme in the tent at 02:00 pm:

This would mean that Korn's time, at this point, is 05:40 am, which (according to my calculations in my timelines post) is the same time Great ditches Korn at the bar to go save Nan.

(This could mean that everything that happened in Great's timeline/reality after he left the bar didn't happen in Korn's.)

Anyway...

Korn and Great exist in completely different times/realities even though they're in the same scene together. And I absolutely loved that detail with those clocks/watches. That whole bar scene was heaven for my brain.

Things are definitely changing when it comes to timelines/realities in the show, and I'm on the edge of my seat with every new episode.

I can't wait to see what time-fuckery we'll get in the next one.

Is it Friday, yet?

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit

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sunr1seblvd · 2 months ago

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getting nostalgic for my john b era (i've yet to watch s4 so shhh) a/n: let's just ignore the fact that ive been gone for like almost 2 months...i hate school. fic notes: established relationship, bf!john b, crap ending soz warnings: references to underage drinking, kissing like once wc: 370

you woke up outside of the chateau, the couch on the porch suddenly becoming the most comfortable thing in the world.

you don't remember exactly how the night ended, but you knew that pope and jj were off doing some stupid dare drunk (with cleo in tow), while sarah and kie were leaving to kie's place for the night.

you were covered in a raggedy, faded blue blanket, with a small hole or three in there. you looked to your right, and on the other couch was your boyfriend, john b.

there, with his tanned skin and his floppy brown curls scattered on his forehead, he looked heavenly.

"you just gonna keep staring, bug?"

you were broken out of your staring to see john b's brown eyes looking lovingly into your eyes.

"mornin'. what time is it?" you asked.

he looked through the open window to the analog clock in the kitchen.

"9. wanna get ready and head to the beach? jj said that pope and the girls were already there."

you smiled. "sure!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.

so there you were, sitting on the coast of the outer banks with you best friends. jj was doing surfing tricks, kie and sarah were off to the side, tanning, and cleo and pope were debating something stupid and silly.

you were sitting on a surfboard out on the water, with john b in between your legs.

he looked up at you with so much love and affection that it made almost everything disappear. (let's ignore jj's screaming and the seagulls..)

"you ready to learn, bug?" he queried as he rubbed your thigh reassuringly.

you had never surfed before, but you couldn't wait to try.

he helped you find your balance, and even though you fell many times, he guided you and helped you catch your first wave. after you fell off, he swam towards you excitedly.

"you did it baby! i'm so proud of you!!" he exclaimed.

he then kissed you with the most passion you ever felt.

and for the first time since you both were 17, you weren't afraid of the cops, of rafe, or anyone else. just you, your boyfriend, and your friends just hanging out without a care in the world.

#john b routledge #john b obx #john b x reader #john b x you #john b x reader fluff #ʚ rena's posts !#ʚ rena's shows: obx !#ʚ rena's characters: john b !

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sardonic-the-writer · 5 months ago

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𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬

↳ summary: it's late, and you find yourself thinking about life on the road as you know it

↳ notes: been thinking about short haired sam a lot lately, and wanted to write something that captured the feel of the earlier seasons. bit shorter than usual, but enjoy!

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: every rose has its thorn—poison

masterlist | commissions | carrd

These were the moments you loved the most.

The hunter lifestyle didn't offer much. It didn't offer comfort, it didn't offer money, and it certainly didn't offer saftey, so you had to make do with what presented itself. If that meant getting breakfast from shitty gas stations more often than not, or staying cooped up in a car for hours on end, then so be it.

There was something oddly poetic in the way you lived your life. You had nothing to your name but the clothes on your back and a sturdy gun Dean had traded you for your old one once meeting you for the first time. Your diet consisted of greasy finger foods, a rare bite of Sam's salad when he felt like sharing, and two beers short of an alcoholics anonymous intervention. Your hospital bills were a mile long and then some— or they would be if you didn't have a habit of changing aliases every time the three of you hopped a state line —and scars riddled the cracked expanse of your skin. But you loved the lifestyle, and it loved you in its own sick, twisted way.

Occasionally the world outside your own would slow down so you could catch up to it. It would be the small things to ground you back in reality away from spectors and spooks. Pulling off the road and stopping to watch a sunset. Spending the night out at a nice bar with clean countertops. Having enough money to sleep in a nice motel; one that didn't make you feel like you were going to catch the plauge just by standing in the rooms doorway.

That's where you were right now. In a cleaner-than-you're-used-to room, awake when you probably shouldn't be, catching up on a chapter or two of your current book while your two roughed up, flannel wearing, loveably stubborn companions snored away on the beds across from you. Dean was the louder one tonight, but you couldn't be particularly bothered to get up and get him to stop. Knowing your luck, he'd oblige for a few moments before rolling on his side and forgetting you were ever there. How Sam dealt with it was beyond you, but then again, he had spent a lot more time around his brother than you. Perks of being siblings. Or downsides, you mused with a slight grin.

You paused in your reading to look up. Even if your back was aching a little and your feet yearned to be propped up on a nice polyester pillow or two, the sight of Sam and Dean sleeping was enough to curb those urges. They deserved as much rest as they could get. The last hunt you all had gone on had been pretty brutal, and the two of them had ended up taking on the majority of the grunt work while you cased the perimeter of the building the monster had holed up in. Djinns. Always a finicky bunch.

Sam turned over in his sleep slightly, mumbling something under his breath before sighing. Your lips quirked upwards as you watched from afar. Particularly at how his hair seemed to fan out from his head in a halo shape. You noticed that he had been growing his hair out recently, and while that didn't surprise you— it's not like you all exactly had time to stop in at a barber shop —you found yourself missing the almost fluffy quality his old hair held. Oh well. You'd settle for the sheen this new style brought.

Running a hand down your face, you blew out a puff air in a show of amusement. You must have stayed up later than you'd thought if you were resorting to critiquing Sam's hair of all things. Dreading a quick look at the analog clock on the motels nightstand, you went for it anyway, and was hit in the face with the knowledge that you'd stayed up for so long that it was already tomorrow. As if to punctuate the glowing green numbers, a bird outside chirped happily, and you grimaced at the thought of how the lack of sleep would affect you later.

It took a total of three seconds for you to dog ear the page you were on and set the book down. The lamp you had been using as a light source plunged the room into darkness with a click, and it left you with a slight impression on the back of your eyelids.

Your feet led you over to the soft couch with little to no protest, and a throw pillow bounced off its surface when you flopped down. Not even bothering to search around in a dark closet for a blanket, you buried your face in the couches slightly perfumed fabric, said a silent prayer of thanks to Dean for getting such a nice room, and smiled.

"Night guys."

And then you were out.

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x y/n #spn #spn x reader #spn x you #spn x y/n #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #x reader #one shot

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vampworks · 1 year ago

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Surely, you want me back

Pairing: Stu Macher x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

no use of Y/N

Warnings: comfort, crying, pet names, cheating, language, physical intimacy, unwanted touching (not from Stu), walking alone at night

Summary: Stu comforts the reader(referred to as bunny) who had a bad date experience. She then sleeps over and they both realize they want more than just friendship. (fem pronouns)

"Dammit, I hate that jerk!" She whined and shivered in the cool night air turning to shoot the bird to the speeding truck behind her. "I only just met him a week ago but I'm a boring prude for not putting out for common decency." She hissed in annoyance. The sound of her strapped heels made a clicking sound as she walked across the long paved roads. Her eyes constantly darted across the cookie-cutter house all around her. The walk home was far too long from the old diner her date had taken her to be considered safe. She had been all but shoved out of his old truck. "He could have at least taken me home." Her tone was laced with acid now as she muttered. It was all a show of just how little he cared about her. 'Just another pretty face' she thought kicking at a rock in her path. The small stone skips before landing its new resting place in someone's yard. After a while, a bright green street sign reflects in the distance. Her brows furrowed as she squinted as she read out 'Palmer's lane'. A small smile brightens her face as she finally knows where the suburban hell she is. Stu's house on Turner wasn't far from here. The sound of her heels grows louder under her as she begins to walk faster towards the large house she knew at the end of the lane.

After another 5 minutes of walking as if she's in a horror film, she arrives at her destination. The girl sneaks around the house only to stand beneath Stu's bedroom widow. She climbed up the heavy metal ladder Stu had propped against it, She decided against asking questions about it as it was far too cold out here to do so. The girl shivers before cupping her hands to peer into the glass. The one in question sprawled across the couch in front of his TV. His long limp hangs off the sides of the small loveseat and grazes the carpet beneath him. 'Typcial stu' she mutters shaking her head. She attempts to softly knock on the glass.

Lights beam from the TV still showing the gory details he'd seen too many times before. The main villain runs after their victim as they scramble to escape. A muted blood-curdling scream sounds from the device.

A heavy thud causes the boy to shoot up from his sleep. Sharp blue eyes widen in search of the sound. They soften into a confused squint as they meet the girl outside. "Bunny?" He lazily questions. She gives a wave and points down the lock expectedly. Stu turns back to the TV to squint at the small analog clock sitting above the TV as it flashes 1:46 AM. He drags himself off the couch towards the window with a loud groan. The girl wastes no time latching onto his shoulder and crawls inside to escape the cold autumn air. "Ugh thanks, man. Do you remember the asshat I went out with tonight? I know you said he was a dick from the start and even Tatum said it too. Well, I didn't listen" Stu only responds with a snicker while grabbing a throw blanket from his bed and wrapping it around her shivering form.

Her rambling is fast and barely coherent but she continues away. "I wanted to go home but then he started touching me in the car even after I told him to stop so I cursed him out but it only pissed him off even more. The soft smile on Stu's face slowly falls as she continues. "What did he do, Bunny." He tries his best to steady his voice but fails as anger sweeps through. He holds a tight grip on the couch cushion beneath him til his knuckles turn a pale white in another poor attempt to restrain himself. She began with a sniff "he pushed me out of his truck a couple blocks from here. She began with a sniff. I didn't know where else to go." Tears threaten to roll down her cheek as she speaks while long arms wrapped around her waist. She let out a small gasp as he swooped her up into the air quickly as he stood only to take off in a sprint to the bed. “It’ll all be alright, Bunny. You're way too good for that creep anyway”. He whispered into her ear in a soft tone. He hides a tight fist behind her back while debating leaving her here and following the guy who hurt her. It slowly moves to rest on her dress's fabric at her waist as he cradles her beneath the sheets.

Anger soon turns to bliss as she pulls herself into his chest. Her right-hand takes hold of his shirt while her left caresses the nape of his neck.

He knew it would only end in a disaster but wanted to be hers so bad it wasn’t funny anymore. He wanted to know what it felt like to meet her eyes as that idiot got too desperately. The warmth she had wasn’t like the others, definitely not Tatum or Casey. Neither of them stood a chance compared to his ‘Bunny’. Yeah, she was flighty and naive but she was all his and it showed in her eyes and how she melted into his touch.

Those bright eyes beamed at each quip and tore apart by the hurt he spoke. Billy could buzz off for all he cared, this girl would know just how much he loved her even if it was the last thing he did. Sure, they're going insane, but she's the closest thing to a home they've ever had since they were kids.

Nothing really had to change for Billy’s plan but no one was hurting their little ‘doll’. He would just have to deal with it. His girl would definitely understand if they would just explain it all, she deserved the world let alone that much. Maybe then, he could finally be with her. It was the only thing his parents agreed with him. Tatum was too much in their opinion but She was different. In their eyes, she would keep him grounded and above water. He knew she'd help him run the old Macher company into the ground if he only asked. It was one of the dreams they had spent the long nights talking about.

“Stu…stuey,” she said just above a whisper. It drew him from his thoughts and she looked up to meet his blue eyes. “Yes Bunny,” he said, drawing out his words almost in song. "Can I borrow one of your shirts for the night?" She asked as she pulled at the hem of her dress. He stares at her blankly for a moment. "I mean if it's alright" His stare turns to a smile then a loud moan combined with an eye roll. "Ugh, I thought you'd never ask." She shushes him with widened eyes and a few soft punches to his chest. "Oh my god Stu, shut up" She laughs. He's gone in a flash to the closet to retrieve his favorite Hellraiser shirt and a pair of boxers a second later.

Light from the TV cast the room in a soft blue glow. The screams of camper running from their demise long since muted as technicolor danced across the screen. The girl watches the blue light cast upon his features as he returns with her eyes half-lidded.

"Keep undressing me with your eyes, girl and I'll catch a cold. He flirts with a wide grin while handing over the clothes bringing her out of her daze. "Whatever, don't miss me too much while I'm gone" She calls in a low tone on her way to the bathroom. "Ugh, I'm already in shambles." He pretends to faint with a hand to his forehead. After changing, she stops in the mirror and stares at her figure in the clothes much too big for her. She imagines him standing behind her. He would lean down to rest his head in the crook of her neck pressing soft kisses on it. His hands slowly slip beneath the fabric and down her stomach. Her eyes flutter close as a ghost of his large hands toy with the waistband of the briefs. She quickly shakes her head to dispel the thoughts.

This was no time to be thinking of him like this, he's with Tatum, she thought. He flirts with everyone and I'm no different. With a final look at his shirt draped over her form, she exits the bathroom with a deep exhale only to be greeted by Stu's wide-struck eyes. "God, you're trying to kill me, arentcha bunny?" She only giggles in response. She made her way to him in a slow stride only to land in his lap without thinking. The thoughts of restraint are long forgotten from them both as their eyes meet in a haze as the room darkens from the credits rolling on the screen. She raises a hand to graze his lips and pulls him in with a hand on his shoulder. His larger ones rest on her waist again as if they always belonged there. He closes the distance with a kiss on her lips as her hand slides to trance the curve of his jaw. The kiss quickly deepens as his hand travels up her spine to tangle his fingers in her hair. She moans into his mouth but pulls away slowly. "We shouldn't..but.." She says breathlessly after a moment but neither of them let go of their hold on the other. Sharp Blue eyes stare half-lidded into her own. "Tell me you want me too and I'm all yours.'' He says in a hoarse whisper. Her spine shivers under his touch. " Fuck, kiss me" She mutters then licks her bottom lip. "Please."

#stu macher x reader #billy and stu #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #stu macher #scream 1996 #scream movie #billy loomis #ghostface x reader #scream x reader #scream #Spotify

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faeriekit · 1 year ago

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Health and Hybrids (XVI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here and this is sixteen *SixTeen theme plays*

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter finds out that,yeah, dude, when your brain is missing chunks, you can't write or access data without the hardware to store it. My dude remembers nothing.

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Days pass. Nights pass.

(He thinks.)

He gets a new room. This one has a window. He can’t stare at it all the time, but when he does, he can feel himself growing stronger. Steadier. The change in his body is borderline tangible.

If only it was physical. He’s still too weak to lift anything but his arms, and not even all the way. Moving his head is tiring. Lifting his head is impossible.

But he tries.

A lot.

The doctors and the lady have to make upset noises with him when he does, but he wants to be able to see everything they’re doing to him. So far it’s a lot of tubes and needles, but what if they become scalpels and clamps?

…Danny tries to assure himself that they probably won’t be.

But they might. Things could change.

And that eats at him constantly.

Someone puts a big circle on the wall in his room. It’s large. It’s a little fuzzy at its distance on the far wall, but it’s got little arms on it, and little dots in equal degrees around the circumference. It takes him almost two napping periods to realize that it’s a clock.

Danny squints. He can...almost read analog. (Probably.) It sure doesn’t help that he has no idea when night is and when day is, though. He sleeps at one hour and wakes up at another, and the room will look entirely the same. Was it a few hours’ sleep, or a day’s? Was it longer? The world spins outside his window, big and blue, and he spins against it in a station on a lonely moon. There’s no way to tell.

Someone eventually notices that he’s bored, though, because he gets a television and a remote.

It’s a super thin television. At first, Danny spends time wondering why they put a screen with no system in his room, and then hour later the lady starts pressing buttons on the remote, and the screen lights up with a news program.

…The TV is too far away to see all that clearly. He can see some of it when he squints, but then all the colors turn lime green.

The banner on the bottom of the screen scrolls with headlines, and cool, it looks like they invented new letters while Danny was asleep. Fantastic. His head hurts from trying to squint to read, but it kind of looks like a kindergartener scribbled all over an otherwise serious news report.

Great. Now he’s getting a headache.

But the noise is…nice. It’s distracting. The news anchors chatter seriously as Danny gets yet another IV swapped out in his arm, and the heavily geared-up doctors have started telling Danny things he doesn’t like to listen to too much because if it is threats, great, he should ignore that; if it’s not threats, then, well, Danny’s bored of it all anyway.

“—Wel?”

Danny blinks. Well. That sounds like ‘Well’.

He shifts just enough to make eye contact. A doctor looks down at him from their place at his bedside. Their scrubs are kind of blue-green, with little flowers on the trim.

They have human eyes. The sight of soft, brown eyes probably ought to be reassuring, but they just make Danny more nervous.

“Eow eart wel?” They ask again, soft and slow. That middle bit sounds kind of like ‘art’. Ha. Old timey Shakespeare. ‘Art well,’ like ‘you art well—‘

Wait. Danny takes a deep breath. Blinks. His chest arcs up, just a little—just enough for the doctor to realize that Danny’s more than just looking, he’s paying attention. Are they asking him if he’s well?

Danny reflexively opens his mouth and flexes his throat, tries to answer—

Nope. Ow. The noise he makes sounds like the garbage disposal is backed up with angry blob ghosts. It hurts just to make. But the sound makes the doctor look at him; they see him.

“Inne cwic tima!” Danny hears, and then they’re jogging out of the room, and Danny is left alone. His throat hurts.

His head thumps back onto his pillow. The news program plays on. There’s a damaged city he’s never seen before on the news.

…And then the doctor comes back. Danny’s head is swimming, so he almost doesn’t notice their return, but they’re holding something, and that something has a sippy straw.

Danny is perfectly happy with a sippy straw.

The straw is put into his mouth. Danny goes sippy sippy.

…The water sloshes a little weirdly through his throat. Some of his tubes might not be where they ought to be, which is weird. Isn’t he supposed to be human right now? Or. Uh. Kind of human? Human equivalent? …Close enough…?

Danny drinks. When the pain in his throat goes to normal pain levels instead of new and angry pain levels, he lets go of the straw, and the doctor lets him.

Their fingers carefully brush Danny’s hair. Not very hard. A little too slowly. Just at the hairline. But it reminds Danny so much of sitting at home with Dad on the couch, home from school with a fever as Muppets tapes play in the background, that tears leak out of his busted eyes. The tears are probably just as green.

“Eow eart wel?” the doctor asks again. So gently. So careful.

“I’m tired,” Danny rasps.

The effort of speaking crashes into him in seconds. If things are happening around him, he doesn’t understand any of it. Nothing reaches him. He’s so tired.

He’s out before he knows it.

#Martian Manhunter: he's bored. Give the boy a television #Medical: :0 Sir yes sir!!#Medical when they hear Danny: HE SPEAKS!!! :D #Medical when they realize they can't understand him: OH NO!!! D: MM COME BACK PLEASE #health and hybrids #dp x dc #danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover #Danny realizing he didn't know how to read analog even when he was well: shit. >:(

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luvvixu · 1 year ago

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sinner and saint

content: fluff, modern!au gojo, lowkeybf!gojo, this was written like last year so it's kinda forgotten but whatevs, im sure he's that guy who would do crazy things like that

a saint and a sinner. that's how people would call a trope like you two have.

you, y/n l/n, a saint—who grew up in a secluded family who thinks morality, being demure, and growing up like a holy being matters the most.

he, satoru gojo, a sinner—who grew up in a harsh environment but that did not stop him from being himself, a reckless little one, a total opposite of you.

but there was something in him that caught you head over heels. you couldn't even describe him properly on how you fell in love with him because your mind is a mess when his name reaches your brain—in a good way though.

all you can say is that he kissed you one time, and there you knew, and there you have it, love blooms whenever he goes.

meanwhile, from his perspective, it was different. satoru thinks you're way too out of league for him. but that does not halt him, either you, to show your full adoration towards each other. being with you is like a grace from above, he did not pray for it nor manifest it, you just came into his life and he found a reason to continue.

"come on, y/n. it'll not be that bad." a voice whispers from your windowsill. it belongs to your lowkey boyfriend, satoru, who snuck out from their house just to have a late night walk with you.

"hush! are you even aware what time it is?!" you whispered-ly yelled, worried for satoru that he might get caught. knowing that you grew up in a strict slash religious slash mentally draining household. of course, discrimination has no escape in your family.

your lover took a glance at your analog clock by the wall, he glanced up to you with a coy smile, decorating those luscious lips. "it's 11:37 pm, my love. you never told me that you do not know how to read an analog clock." satoru said with full cockiness in his tone.

a glare was sent towards the latter's way as you escalated a sigh at his silliness (you admire him for that). how did you even go in this situation? simple, he was reckless and you love him.

well actually, it all started when he passed you a note during school time. the paper itself looked like a contract more than an invitation, it stated that he was hoping you would join him in a late night walk around your neighborhood's vicinity.

you and your boyfriend live nearby each other. that is why everytime the school ends, you two would always go home together (with matching holding hands, of course). thankfully, the gossipers in your town did not suspect the two of you at all. with extreme carefulness and instinct, the two of you manage to hide your relationship from everybody.

and occasionally, he would steal a kiss from you when it's late and no one was nearby. this always never fails to make your stomach feel like there's a whole sanctuary of butterflies dancing inside.

"i did not even agree with this thing you're saying." back to the present, satoru has been nagging you constantly about this late night walk he's been excited about.

"but you did not disagree, either. So, i guess now that I'm here, you could make up your mind?" satoru planted his hand on his cheeks, looking at you so innocently.

did I mention that he was still literally dangling outside? like his feet were still planted on the roof that he climbed just to be here in your room.

"what if we got caught?" you mumbled, slowly walking back and forth, a habit of yours whenever you feel anxious.

"oh sweetheart, come here." he made you kneel by the window. his warm hands made you feel secure as he cupped your face, looking dead straight in your eyes.

"listen, you know that i would not do anything that will put you in danger, am I right?" you nodded, making satoru smile before planting a small peck right in your nose. "if we ever got caught, which i don't think will be happening in this current situation, i would be fully accountable and i would face the consequences alone."

"don't say that." your eyebrows immediately submerged into a frown.

"say what?"

your fingers reach for his face too, delicately caressing every inch of the face you love. "it's unfair that it would be only you who is at fault. i now want this too. don't taint your name alone with the mistakes we both make." there's a hint of pain and upset in your voice, which did not go unnoticed by your lover.

satoru immediately places a kiss on your forehead to cease the frown forming in your frame. "hey. i'm sorry, okay? i didn't mean to invalidate you. i just want what's best for you." he noticed your tense muscles suddenly came to loose, kind of relieved from what he said to you.

"you're the best for me." you let out your sweetest smile that even ants might get diabetes. you could also see your satoru blushes as his cheeks in your palm suddenly become more warmer and the tip of his ears are visibly red.

"ooh~? someone's blushing?" you teasingly said. the gentleman in front of you chuckles as he takes your fingers and kisses all of your fingertips.

"mmh…i am, indeed." his voice is so sultry that it was your turn to blush—maybe harder than he was earlier.

the couple giggled to each other as they continued to exchange endearing words and sweet little kisses. teenage love is really sweet. for sure when they grow up, this kind of memory would be stamped permanently in their brains.

"this might sound cheesy to you but whatever, i'm just going to say what I want to say."

"alright, but first, why don't you come inside? i'm worried you might get a cold from hanging out there…"

"eh, this is more convenient since you're coming out with me." he just offered you a thumbs up before proceeding to his next speech. you waited for him patiently with a gentle smile decorating your lips.

"as i was saying, whenever you would run your fingers through my hair as we watched the lights of the city go wild, you kept your eyes to me—only to me. at first, it feels wrong but you make it enough just to make it right."

"because i never thought that i would end up with you. a living goddess, a saint, a careful daughter—you're way too opposite of me. but, whenever i see you smile, i...i can see the sparks fly."

"i remember it all, that summer afternoon of July 7th—you held my hand and led me towards the staircase of our classroom building. you whisper my name ever so slowly and softly, and then you say you love me. god! that made me get so captivated by you, everything blooms like a fireworks show."

his blue eyes dived deep inside your own, swimming further as he got lost by your warmth. it held pure praise and adoration for you, and only you. every inch of his body screams that you only own him. That applies the same to you as to satoru.

"so, my love, would you like to go out with me?" your lover lends out his hand, encouraging you to join him into a reckless adventure. with tears slowly formulating in your eyes, you manage to let out a contented laugh—clearly touched by his confesst.

"do I really have to say anything when you literally told me a while ago the reason why you have decided to stay there by the window is that it is more convenient since you're coming out with me?"

satoru blushes slightly. "oh shush! don't make me embarrassed and just say your answer."

your eyes disappeared as you gave her your signature eyed smile, something you would only do when you feel extremely happy.

"whenever there's you, i will always follow you."

"is that a yes?" sometimes, your boyfriend is a big mood killer with his stinky ass jokes that make you want to throw him into the ocean and feed to those little fish who need his nutrients.

"do you not hear what i have said?" your eyes squint over his mischievousness.

"said what?"

this mother—

"okay, i changed my mind. goodnight." without a second thought, you turned your heel away and started to lay down on your bed.

"wait! No, no ,no! my love, i'm just joking—like really! i am just so happy you accepted my offer." you saw satoru struggle to stop you through your peripheral vision, it makes you smile but you remembered that you're annoyed, so you stop yourself.

"hmph! let's just go, we still have class tomorrow." he smiled at your answer before helping you to sneak out through the window.

mumbling some careful words, both of you successfully touch the ground without making any noises. a harsh wind of the night blew within your skins, as you were only wearing a thin fabric of your nightgown.

"here. good thing i bought you some of my extra hoodies." you grin at your boyfriend's caring attitude as he even helps you wear it.

the walk around your subdivision is just perfect and calming. just you and satoru, walking hand in hand, swaying your collided hands occasionally. the moon and the stars above are twinkling, serving as your light along with the light posts near the sidewalk.

"i've always wanted to do this, walking alone with you. i like it that it's just the two of us, i could kiss you anytime i want." you punched his arm weakly and told him to cut it out, but satoru was serious with his words.

"i love you—"

*drip*

"it's raining? damn, i should've checked the weather first." you man mumbles under his breath and was about to pull you to the nearest shelter when you held his hands. stopping, his blue eyes trailed at you with confusion.

"let's just stay here for a while."

"but baby, you might get sick."

"i won't." you let out a laugh as you pull satoru in the middle of the road, inviting him for a waltz. his hands slowly trail on your curves as you wrap your arms around his neck.

two eyesights are swimming to each other's gaze, drowning themselves with love and neverending adoration.

both of your foreheads are leaning to each other, still swaying and hands are clasping. satoru blew a peck on your nose, he could feel the coldness from the rain—but it was just right because of how the distance of your bodies brings warmth to each other.

"y/n, can i kiss you?" satoru's blue eyes bore into your own orbs, filled with extreme love and adoration towards you.

"you don't have to ask me." answering with the same loudness and softness, you smiled at your lover.

gently, satoru adjusted his grip on your waist before slowly capturing your lips with his. the dynamic rhythm of your kiss matches the dampness of the rain, creating a romantic air within your vicinity.

this is perfect. you couldn't ask for more, he couldn't ask for more. once again, teenage love is indeed very sweet when you're with that one memorable person. in this case, you and satoru are that memorable person.

who knew that a sinner and a saint had this fascinating chemistry?

©luvvixu2023

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #luvvixu #fanfic #fluff #anime #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff

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chronicbeans · 2 years ago

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Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (part 4)

Howdy's Place! Howdy's Place! Howdy's Place!

TW: Mentions of Varying Mental Illnesses and Medication, Hallucinations

🐻 You hum, looking at the question list you made up as you sit in the cafe area of Howdy's Place. It kind of reminds you of how the bookstore nearby has a cafe, too. You look around, waiting for Me. Darling. You made it here early, much like the last time you went somewhere to meet him. You don't want to make a poor second impression. After all, the first one you made with your staring? Must've been awful.

🐻 To your surprise, Howdy casually strolls up to you. He usually never leaves his cash register, so it is a surprise to see him not only leave his post, but single out YOU. Does he know you are here to see Mr. Darling?

🐻"Morning, (Y/N)!" You giggle, pointing to the clock "It is afternoon, Howdy. But, I appreciate the thought. Afternoon, Howdy. Do you need something?" Howdy chuckles, placing his hands on his hips "This is my store, and I say it isn't afternoon until it hits 12 on the dot. It's only 11:30. Anyways, I gotta talk to you about something."

🐻 He sits across from you, looking out the window as he asks "You work with a lot of kids, yeah? How many of them have what can be considered mental illnesses. I am not asking for me, or for any specific names. I just want to know for a friend. They are thinking of bringing their kid there, but couldn't find anything on the websites or flyers." You tilt your head, thinking, before saying "A lot of them, actually. A few have what could be considered childhood depression, for a variety of reasons. A lot of them have some sort of anxiety, these days. Is there anything in particular they want to know about?"

🐻Howdy looks back to you, then down at the table, as if thinking on how to word his question. Then, he speaks again, in a very quiet voice "Well... I already know that you have cared for children on the autism spectrum. It's just that... Umm... My friend's kid has hallucinations, too. They don't know why, yet. They want to know if they would be in a safe, nonjudgmental place at the daycare."

🐻 Oh... OH. You got it, now. You smile, shrugging "Well, we have had kids with hallucinations, before. It was caused by a head injury, so if your friend's kid went through that, I also have direct experience with their case. Do they have any medications?" Howdy shakes his head. "Nope. They took some for a bit, but they said that they didn't like the side effects. They tried a few more, only to decide to try talk therapy on its own for a bit. They have been doing better, now, but it still gets to them from time to time. They are good at hiding when it does." You nod again, thinking for a bit. "There have been some cases where children went without medication because the ones they tried didn't work and the remaining options were restricted to a higher age. Your friend's kid should be fine."

🐻 Howdy nods, looking outside the window again. He gets up as he sees a specific car pull into the parking lot. You grab his sleeve to get his attention. "Let your friend know that, even if there are a few problems along the way, I will be by their kid's side to help them through. I believe that every child should be given a chance to succeed." Howdy smiles, nodding. "Thanks. I'll let them know. They are just outside." With that, he quickly leaves.

🐻 You sit back, looking at the clock. It is about... 11:55? You have never been the best at reading analog clocks, even though you know how. You look back to your list of questions, trying to think of which one you should ask, first. Time and date sounds the most important, yes, but it would be a relatively quick thing to figure out compared to activities. So it could be asked at the end. Then there's the question if-

🐻"Hello." You look up, seeing Mr. Darling. He looks a bit tired, but his grin is still there. He also seems to be wearing a... Disguise of some sort? He's let his blue hair down from its normal style, allowing it to fall down into a waterfall of slightly curly, coarse strands. He is also wearing a dark sweater, with a hood over his head. You grin, waving "Hello! You look nice, today?"

🐻 "Yeah..." His face turns a slight pink as he says that, before he sits down. "You don't look so bad, yourself... Um... What should we talk about, first?" You look down at your papers, before looking at the bottom of the list. That should be relatively quick, right? "Well... Before the main stuff, I was just wondering how you knew my name, yesterday? I don't remember telling you it." He chuckles, letting out a very odd, but charming sounding laugh. He grins lazily as he says "I asked Frank, the library owner. He is a good friend of mine! He saw you running out, so he walked over to me and asked if I had anything to do with it. That's when I asked. Sorry if it scared you."

🐻 Giggling, you shake your head "Not at all. You could never scare me. You seem too nice to do anything bad." He taps his fingers against the table. "Really...?" You nod slowly, before picking another question to ask.

🐻 After that conversation with Howdy, you find yourself noticing the odd little things about Mr. Darling that make you go "hmmm". His odd way of looking at you for long periods, before suddenly looking to the side or making a strange expression for a moment is one thing. Then, when he takes out a few items to show you ideas for activities, he stares at a sketchbook for a few moments, as if something is wrong with it, before placing it with the other items. You had noticed these before, at the book signing, but didn't think anything of it.

🐻"Ah, this one is easy. I live a few hours away from here. About two, I think." Your eyes widen. You ask, just to be sure "Like... You live a few hours away from here permanently? Or is it a summer home, or...?" He lets out that laugh, again. "Permanently. I don't need to live somewhere fancy or anything. This small town is great for atmosphere and I'd rather just live with my best friend and help him get his comedy club off the ground." You write it down, saying "Wow! That, alongside the other stuff, makes you pretty available at all times! This is great!"

🐻 You smile, getting to the last question "So... I was wondering, what really made you interested in illustration and art? This one is just something I put in for fun." He looks around, growing quiet. "Well... um... I just always liked it. I got a lot of inspiration from things people said and the um... scenery around me. You know?" You place your papers down and your chin in the palm of your hand, leaning against the table as you look at him.

🐻 "Look... if you aren't going to be honest with that, it is fine. You don't have to tell me. You don't seem like the type of person to lie, though. Are you okay? You have been acting a bit off." He waves his hands, quickly saying "No- I mean... I just... I have been thinking about what you said earlier. To Howdy, you know? It was so sweet, I-" His eyes then widen, before he places a hand over his mouth.

🐻 You get it now... "You're Howdy's friend that has that kid, aren't you?" You ask, pointing at him. He shakes his head, sighing, before pointing to himself. "Nope! Guess I just can't hide it. No use in doing so, either. It is probably pretty obvious. I am that kid. Like... I hallucinate." You sit up straight, as you notice him tense up.

🐻"Well, why didn't you say so? Actually, I probably know why, considering Howdy's questions... Scratch that." You clear your throat, starting again "I hope nothing I said gave off the impression I would judge you for it. Were you up all night worrying about it? Is that why you are so tired looking?" He lets out a tiny "ugh", before saying "Yeah... Is it that obvious? I tried to cover it up with makeup." You nod, smiling as you point over to the cafe's ordering station.

🐻"Let's go get something to drink. You said the milk tea was good, right? We can try it out while we talk about how this all might affect your visit. Don't worry, I am sure it will be fine. We'll do our best to accommodate you!"

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader

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fairykazu · 10 months ago

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NOT-SUPER-SECRET-CRUSH: tutor scaramouche in session! FT. SCARAMOUCHE contents // friends to lovers, requited love, hs au, modern au notes // if i write about my own math lesson here, would i remember it easier? masterlist // part one // part two

[sat. 8:30]

oh, god, what time is it? you squinted as the sun shined brightly on your face. grabbing your phone, [saturday | 8:31]. oh no. sure, you're one minute late but scaramouche hates people who are late. what if he flakes from being your tutor. oh, it's SO over.

scaramochi: where are you? scaramochi: do you even want to take this seriously?

you quickly replied back,

bobaluvname: i just woke up bobaluvname: my parents aren't home, im sorry. i don't have a ride (T_T) scaramochi: are you fr? bobaluvname: yeah... im sorry :(( scaramochi: ok

archons, sure, he's usually dry on text but not this dry! as you panicked, undressing from your pjs and quickly changed into am outfit.

ding!

what the hell? who's ringing the doorbell right now. you walked to the door slowly, you were still trying to stick your arms through the armholes. peeking through the peep hole, it was a familiar purple haired boy. wait.

WAIT.

what is scaramouche doing outside your door???

the indigo haired male sat at the furthest corner of the library, isolated from everyone else. scaramouche was worried about you but not like he would tell you anyway. the only way would be someone had to waterboard this information from him. but again, you're usually an early riser that's what he likes... tolerates you for. why are you late?

he turned behind him where the analog clock was mounted on the wall, the little hand on the eight and the longest hand pointing down. maybe something happened on the way? or you're stuck at home.

he texted you a message. [where are you?] ...no, that gives away that he's concerned. then, he added: [do you even want to take this seriously?]

perfect... doesn't he want you to know he likes you? no, this is serious work and an equal exchange of education and knowledge. it would be a plus though. he argued with himself a little more until he heard his phone buzzed.

[ two notifcations from idiot]

he swiped the notifcations open, seeing that you were in the chatroom.

idiot: i just woke up. idiot: my parents aren't home, im sorry. i don't have a ride to the library

he was right. you did have a dilemma, but he had to make sure. sending a reply back as he packed up his items back into his bag.

idiot: yeah... im sorry :((

well, it's well over five minutes of the initial meeting. he could treat you like everyone else and be an asshole to end the session immediately.

but you weren't like everyone else to him. you're someone he tolerates. as he was walking out of the library, he noticed you were still in the chatroom.

idiot is typing...

he stared at you typing and deciding not to type again. he waited for your text bubble to come back again. five minutes pass. your bubble doesn't come back. well, it would be better if he might as well go to her house, right? he doesn't decide to be rational about this and maybe this might seem romantic to you.

maybe...

that's how scaramouche ended up being in front of your door. he knocked softly before ringing the doorbell, "hello?"

he heard your gasp. "you're not subtle, you know. are you going to open the door?"

"ummm, yes! hold on." it seemed like you were struggling to open the door. maybe, the morax family hid a key under the rug or a gnome. he looked around the porch, noticing that he was stepping over a bump in the rug.

is it creepy to open your friend that you weren't very close with's door with the key the family didn't cleverly hid?

yes.

he didn't open the door. instead, he waited for you to open the door yourself.

oh my god, you didn't expect him to just arrive on your doorstep with ease. from rumors you've heard, he wouldve ended the sessions without a second thought. you slipped into your shirt and patted the nonexistent dust off of your pants. you looked at the mirror mounted near the door. your hair is a mess...

you brushed your hair quickly, taking the spare hair ties that your dad leaves at the front. disheveled hair into a "sleek" ponytail. not really, sleek, you shouldn't lie to yourself.

you kept him outside for too long though. "come in!" the door creaked open, revealing scaramouche with his bag and two cups of very cold drinks in the other. "your shirt is on backwards and inside out."

"it is?" you looked down at your shirt, the tag was sticking out.

it's so over.

any remaining self-worth was drifted away in the wind and out the door. you closed your eyes and smiled, "okay, thanks, come in through."

he took off his shoes and placed them in the shoe rack. "i got us drinks but it's a bit cold now." your face fell and he smiled, enjoying teasing you. but from your point of view, he seemed a devil. a very smart devil though!

"although, you did waste my time," why is his words so harsh for wanting to say something nice? "but it's fine. it's whatever miss yae wanted to give to my mother. what now?"

"well, we can go in my room! c'mon, just wait for a minute because, well, y'know." you gestured to your inside out and backwards shirt.

"got it." as he watched you go upstairs. going to her room?? he's a little freaked out but he has to play it cool. "scaramouche, go up!"

"don't boss me around." despite his words, he walked up the stairs. you shouted back, with your shirt on correctly.

"i have the power though! think of your english grade." you explained, smirking. he snorted at your attempt of "winning".

"how about you think about your math and science grade?" he retorted back as he heard you sigh, he laughed to himself, reveling in the fact that he won this pretend competition.

well, you won in a way but definitely not this one because he would never tell you.

it's awkward... or at least to scaramouche. you had asked if he wanted to be the tutor or the tutee and he opted to the tutee. but he couldn't even pay attention to the words you were saying, as it was in of one ear and out of the other. it's strange to be in the bedroom of the girl he has crushed on for years.

you were on the other side of the desk, guiding him on a topic he was awful at. as much as he wanted to pay attention to what you were saying, he couldn't but help to look at you or your lips and how soft they'd feel against his.

ahem. he squeezed his eyes shut. maybe he should've offered to be the tutor.

your hand briefly touched his shoulder, he flinched, "scaramouche? are you okay? do you need a break?"

one touch from you made him freeze, it's so over for his reputation. he mumbled out a word which you took as a yes. "i'll get you a drink and snacks, okay? maybe you're not in the right mood for english, it's okay. you can tutor me for my lessons, instead."

scaramouche pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded stiffly. thank god, she didn't notice.

scaramouche is defintely acting off today. usually he's super grouchy, is it opposite day? do you start being like mr. grinch? why was scara acting so weird?? you thought as you walked down the stairs. turning into the kitchen to see...

oh god, it's baba.

your dad sat near the counter, waiting for his tea leaves to seep into the hot water. what would your dad think with scaramouche being in your room? would he freak out?? does he even know scara??? "hello, name, do you need anything? did the tutoring go well?" he asked. the steam swirled out of the cup as you tried to answer quick but not too quickly.

"hi, baba! i need some water. do you know where the bottles are?"

he adjusted his glasses, "below the counter. did your tutoring go well?"

"it's not exactly over. the tutor- remember scaramouche?-" you tried to express scaramouche with hand movements. a guy around your age on the shorter side.

he sipped his tea, "ahh, ei's child?"

"mhm! he's upstairs right now."

he choked on his tea, "what." you grabbed some napkins dabbing your dad's clothes with the cloth. "i didn't have a ride to the library," as your dad tried to regain his composure, slipping away from the counter, you grabbed the water bottles and a few snacks from the cabinets. your arms were full as you walked upstairs, "don't worry, baba! i will crack the door open."

"it better be wide open, young lady! you should've informed me about this!!"

"i'm sorry, baba!" your door closed completely behind you as you apologized, "oopsy, baba, i forgot!"

the door creaked open.

"hi, scara, my dad's home. but i have snacks."

"mr. morax is here... ?" scaramouche repeated, sounding a bit afraid. is your dad scary? maybe. did your friends say meeting your dad was like approaching a dragon? yes. is scaramouche feeling a little light headed? no (lying).

"yes, don't worry, he's all bark, no bite! anyway, tutor me, scara." you smiled brightly as he opted to be grouchy again. no way, he would falter this time.

you sat down next to him as scaramouche asked, "okay, so what chapter are you on?"

you tapped your chin, trying to remember, "chapter five, exponential and logarithmic functions."

"oh, i liked that chapter."

you frowned. scaramouche chuckled quietly, it's as if that frown would be engraved into your face. he stopped laughing, but a smile on your face would be better. he cleared his throat, "once you get a hang of it, it would be easier."

"are you sure?"

"would i be passing math right now if i wasn't?" scaramouche said, boasting a little.

"ok, don't flex on me too much now." you cried.

"for this problem you have to remember that logb y, which is the argument, equals x only if the equation is bx equals y. this is a rule you have to remember throughout the lesson."

"what?"

"you'll get the hang of it." he said it with confidence. after realizing, he sounded too nice, he added, harshly, "if you did, you wouldn't have needed me in the first place."

you pushed him playfully, "okay, scaramouche, don't let that get in your head, remember? you're the one with a terrible score in english."

"..."

as time passed, the lessons were easier to understand for the both of you, well, mostly scaramouche. but he wouldn't tell you that. he did. he likes to boast, remember?

[one notification from baba +1]

baba: i forgot i have more work to intend to baba: next time, please tell me if you will have a friend over. name: very sorry, baba! i will tell you next time. have fun at work, tell hu tao to stop overworking you :(( baba: 😂😂 baba: do not worry, name, hu tao doesn't overwork me. name: okay! have fun at work, love you baba: love you too.

after the session was over, scaramouche winced at himself, thinking back what he said three hours ago. although it was true, your shirt was on backwards and even inside out, he wanted to say, "morning, let's continue."

but continue what?? you guys didn't start tutoring beforehand. he's so stupid. attempting to save himself from the silence filling the room, he offered,

"do you want boba?" he said, quickly as he watched your eyes gleam with joy.

you laughed it off before you noticed he was serious. "wait, seriously?"

"yes, it's my treat." he replied, looking at you. has he ever looked this sparkly before? wait, this isn't a shoujo anime and obviously, he means it as friends. "sure! like right now or later?"

"do you want boba right now or later?" wow, answering a question with a question, so smart, scaramouche. the answer was obvious by just looking at you. "im fine with later though."

"no, no! right now is fine! just let me text my dad first."

"of course." scaramouche said.

name: baba, can i go out with scaramouche for boba? baba: yes but bring another friend too. name: i'll go to the boba place that ganyu works at! baba: good idea. have fun, name. who will be paying? do you need money? name: he will baba: 👍👍

"he said yeah but can we go to the one ganyu works at?" you asked as scaramouche nodded his head,

"since i'd pay, you can choose."

"hooray!!!" you cheered as you looked at him expectantly. he furrowed his brows as you gestured him to cheer too.

"hooray."

well, it was good enough.

tutor scara's tutees [open] : @saccharine-sucks @ainnofinway

#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #not super secret crush — vidia's mini series #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin fluff #female reader #f!reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x f! reader

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madwomansapologist · 8 months ago

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━ ✧ unraveling you | chapter 1 - welcome to westview!

masterlist | pinterest board | spotify playlist | AO3

series synopsis: Trapped inside Westview, Agatha Harkness was reduced to Agnes. The noisy neighbor and nothing more than that. Until a meteor rain brought something strong to Westview. Something strong enough to help her, and maybe strong enough to free her. You. In a journey to save herself by teaching you the ways of magic, Agatha Harkness wants one thing only: to avenge herself.

Agnes woke up before the alarm, unsure if she even slept last night.

Standing in front of the bedside table, surrounded by shadows and whispers of familiar voices, cold water soaked her feet. It rained at midnight. She remembers it now. Soon Agnes will forget about it, but for now she remembers.

The analog glitched, its numbers changing again. Agnes tried to blink. It never works. Not before the right time. Rubbing bellow her sore eyes, Agnes felt the trace of tears. It wasn’t raining, a familiar voice whispered on her ears. If only she knew whom it belongs to. My tears flooded this cursed place.

Something trembled inside her mind. Hatred. Agnes didn’t knew she could name her feelings. Hatred, hatred, hatred. That made her laugh, but then the clock changed again. Time to wake up. The rebellion was gone just as quickly as it came.

She made her bed, without noticing that the pillowcase was left backwards. Agnes opened the curtains. It had stopped raining already. Something told her to dry the floor. It was an order, and she obeyed. What else could she do?

The kitchen was next on her assorted routine. Agnes made coffee, without any sweetener, althought she prefers tea. She drank it all in one gulp. It burned her tongue and throat.

She stared at the knifes on the counter top. It was impossible to not wonder. To not imagine a different path. An exit door. If only she were allowed to get near them. If only Agnes could grab one of them and just…

Agnes took her keys and stood before the main door. She smiled widely. As she walked outside, her hands waived automatically to her neighboors.

An empty puppet, something whispered in her ears. You lived far too long. Agnes agreed.

― Good morning, hot suff! ― Agnes purred, opening the fence. ― A good day to be good, am I right?

Sarah Proctor bumped her head against the car. It was too early for someone to be that noisy. She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her groceries out of the car, ignoring Agnes’ presence.

― Just drop the act ― Sarah murmured to herself.

Agnes passed by her, continuing her daily walk through town. After wandering around the center, her path ended at an isolated grove. She sat on a bench still damp from last night rain and gazed at the sky.

After an hour the watch on her hand bipped, allowing Agnes to go back home. Later that day, the clock on her kitchen’s wall gave her permission to eat. Another on the living room made her turn on the TV. Then off. One informed her of when to go to bed.

That morning, when the clock woke her up, Agnes threw it against the wall. It ricocheted, the metal colliding against the bricks, and slid under her bed. It kept on echoing inside her head.

When Agnes got out of bed, it stopped.

Agnes ate eggs with no salt and drank old, icy coffee.

― I am happy ― Agnes smiled, glaring at herself through a mirror on the kitchen’s wall. Lips ever so enchanting. Her cheeks burned. And so did her eyes. ― Don’t look at the knifes. You are happy.

Forced to walk out of that place ― she can’t call it home, no magic or spell can make Agnes call it home ―, Agnes felt the cold tears against her skin. More of a drizzle than a tempest, but uncomfortable still. Without an umbrella or warm clothes, Agnes continued her day.

Part of her wanted to know what month it was. It’s raining more often. Which season are they on? The other part knew that time meant little now. It lost its meaning when she stopped trying. She can’t remember how long ago that was.

She can’t remember most things now.

Gazing at the sky, all she could see were gray clouds. They moved slowly, the air changing their shapes as it continues to rain. Then, something passed right throught it. An blue line crossing the sky, leaving an trail of smoke behind. Dozens upon dozens of them fell from the sky, all ending the gray hanging over Westview.

Meteor rain.

It burned so brightly. The fire catching as they passed right throught the atmosphere seemed rosy from where Agnes stood, watching intensively the espectacle. The rain ceased, the clouds dissolving so the blue sky was visible.

It is beautiful. Agnes laughed. The world really is.

Agnes watched as they dissapeared in the sky. All meteors burned until they were barely tiny rocks. Once so powerfull, now reduced to nothing out of Earth’s nature. Except by one. It was bigger than the others, and it glistened red. It continued falling, crossing the sky with ease, as if its fate was to be a constant presence.

Her laugh ceased when Agnes realized it was too close.

Unable to move away, to say anything, Agnes was the witness of its destruction. It crashed into the trees of the grove, tearing everything on its way down. The wood turned into dust, the grass disappeared, the rainwater boiled. An endless moment of pure despair.

It was so beautiful.

A circle of fog expanded throught the grove with its impact. It covered everything there. Agnes coughed, trying to protect her face from the hot air.

Agnes tried to find her way towards the meteor. Ignoring the destruction, she focused on a pearly glow deep into the grove. Outlined by the trees, it glistened. Agnes just wanted to see it closer.

It has been so long since she last wanted something.

The pearly glow started to fade, and a woman’s silhouette appeared in the middle of it. It looked like she was walking on fire, then it suddenly was the opposite. She was brighter than anything else. The only thing shining in this whole world.

And she looked at Agnes, eyes burning in a white liquid light. A sign of strength. Of power and potential. Agnes was unaware that her own shined purple, overflowing with her magic.

The woman fell unconsious on the floor, leaving Agnes to figure out how to take her home.

― Welcome to Westview ― Agnes murmured to herself. ― Home is where you make it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The universe was fated to end in harmony.

All worlds crumbled together. Suns imploded in waves, disturbing the planets orbiting around it. Galaxies crashed against one another, satelites imploding and changing comets’ paths.

Colors that were once infinite, sounds that were once the only unavoidable event, all faded.

Nothing remains. No darkness, no vacuum, no space to be rebuilt. Nothing except them, ready to go and never look back. The job was finished. They turned out the lights, cleaned the mess. Now it’s time to leave and lock the door behind them.

― I can start it over ― you declared. ― Get it right this time. Do it right.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The ceiling was molding. It was the first thing you’ve noticed. Not only was it visibly molding but you could smell it too. Those facts came accompanied by a doubt: who’s ceiling was that?

― Morning, beautiful ― a energetic voice startled you.

You moved your neck, now seeing the woman standing at the other side of the room. As you sat on the bed, back against the icy wall, your whole body throbbed.

― You’ve slept for quite sometime now ― she pointed out. A voice so full with energy, and yet her eyes were sore. She looked exhausted. ― Do you remember anything that happened?

You tried to think of what you did last. Of where you were. Nothing came to your mind. You are here now. There is no before. There is just this room, that tired woman and doubts you don’t have a way to answer.

― Who are you? ― You rubbed your face, trying to get your mind to work. Your heart vibrate inside your chest. ― What is happening?

Agnes saw that same light pooring through your eyes again. That pearly glow defying the rules of gravity. Little rays of energy came out of your fingers, and their intensity made the room vibrate.

Your magic was untamed.

Tempting.

― I know as much as you do ― Agnes sat down beside you. She reach out for you, stroking your back slowly. As if you were a beast chosing between attacking or running away. ― Breath in, breath out. There is no need for you to panic.

You tried to do as she said. Again and again, you tried to calm yourself. The energy on your eyes disappeared, the power gone, revealing tears about to escape.

Agnes wiped your cheek. The tear glistened, and Agnes saw it for what it was: a crystal. When her thumb brushed against it, the crystal penetrated her skin. She saw it disappearing on her finger, but felt nothing.

Keep her around, that voice told her. This time, it sounded different. Like it came from a different plane of existence, one that suddenly became closer to her own. Agnes recognizes it now. That voice was her own. Don’t let her go.

You did something to her. To Agatha Harkness. Not Agnes, not the noisy neighboor, not an middle age lady with something flirtatious to say. She is Agatha Harkness. You shattered something, and Agatha needs you to fully break it.

― There is something about you ― still, the words were pronounced by Agnes. That tooth-aching sweet tone, so fake and unhuman. ― Something impressive about you. Reminds me of someone I used to know.

― Used to?

Agnes opened her mouth, but the words she wanted didn’t made out of it. Agatha could think, but Agnes is the one that can act. And Agnes isn’t allowed to do as it pleases her.

― It’s fine ― you saw right throught her. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t. You felt it in your bones. ― If you can’t talk about it.

Can’t. Not don’t want. You said can’t.

The clock interrupting her line of thought once more. Time for another walk. Agnes kneeled down, getting it from under the bed. She glared at it, broken in pieces and still ticking.

That bitch can’t be simple, can she?

Agnes’ threw it out of the window.

― It’s that annoying?

― Honey, you don’t even know.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The leaves levitated, dancing on the sky. From the questroom on the second floor you couldn’t see the ground. For you, the leaves were flying etternaly. A matter of perspective.

Your back burned. You were being watched. Turning around, you expect to see Agnes. The woman you meet a day prior. That funny, tired, noisy woman who took care of you when you needed it the most. Instead, by the open door of your room, tiny black eyes glared at you.

You kneeled down and waited for it to get closer. When it did, you stroked its ears. So soft against your palm, malleable and warm. A rabbit. You remember. That tiny animal is called a rabbit.

― Let’s buy something different for dinner ― Agnes entered the room, cleaning her hands with a towel. You smelled raw meat. And you don’t know how, but you knew she would rather starve than to eat that again. ― Put on some clothes.

You continued to scratch the rabbit’s ear.

― I’m already using clothes.

― You’re using a nightgown.

― And? ― It was a honest question. Agnes could tell. ― Is it wrong to wear that?

That naivety intrigues Agnes. She saw it on Wanda before. That need to pretend the world is somewhere simple than it is by turning yourself into someone easier to be. Something happened to you. Something that you rather forget than face.

No honest questions or sweet smiles will make Agnes forget you came with the meteors. That you smelled like magic and potential. You’re strong. Strong enough to recover from whatever stole your memories. All you need is time. Agnes will give you that.

And when you’re to pay for your debt, Agnes will chose what to take from you.

― He likes you ― Agnes said. She opened the wardrobe, looking for something you could use outside. ― Señor Scratchy, I mean. That’s no very common.

― I like him too ― you yawn. ― You could feel it, right Señor Scratchy?

Cute.

Agnes put some clothes on the bed and walked from the room, giving you time to change. After long enough for Agnes to get impatient, you appeared on the kitchen. In front of the main door, Agnes grabbed the keys.

― Do you remember anything else now? ― She unlooked the door, trying to look like she wasn’t giving to much thought to the subject.

It wasn’t the first time Agnes asked you that, but it was the first time you had something to say.

― Yes, I do!

― Oh ― Agnes smiled. ― And what is it?

― Señor Scratchy is a rabbit!

Agnes opened the main door, nodding to herself. That was on her, she admits it. She better lower her expectations. Althought, it is curious you know what a rabbit is. She wonders if maybe you hit your head after the meteor crashed. Perhaps it’s a medical case, not a magic one.

But her intuition says the contrary, and Agnes trusts it enough.

― Of course, sweetheart ― she murmured. ― A rabbit.

You weren’t paying attention on her. Wandering out of the house, you just observed the world. It was the first time you got out of the house. So many lights and colors, they all blend together to create new things. From that tiny window, all you could see were trees and the skies. But this…

― Wow ― you laughed. ― Oh my.

Agnes held you by the shoulders to make you walk towards the center. Instead of behaving, you just walked whenever you wanted to. A few times Agnes had to stop you from crashing against a car.

― Can you stop moving? ― Agnes hissed, following you. ― We were supposed to head…

― Morning, Agnes! ― A neighbor she don’t remember the name waived at her.

― Morning, sweetie!

When she turned back, you were gone. Agnes cursed, running towards you on the other side of the street. Agnes crossed the park’s entrance, but stopped trying to reach for you when she noticed what this place was. A graveyard.

She just wanted to buy pork.

Agnes made to where you stood, glaring at an old grave. It was molding, and part of it fell down. In silence, she observed it. The birthday was unkown. The death was a few years prior. What happened to them?

― What are those? ― You looked at her. ― That’s a weird place.

― They bury dead people here ― Agnes explained to you. ― And write some things about them on stone. Birthday, date of death, name, maybe a pretty sentence.

― Why?

― I’m not really sure ― she admitted. ― I guess it makes the living feel better.

― I don’t have a name ― was your response. You pointed at the grave, but Agnes kept on looking at you. ― I want that one.

Agnes laughed. A real, belly aching laugh.

― Stealing someone’s name, huh? ― Agnes nodded to herself. ― I don’t think they will miss it.

As you explored the cemetery, Agnes watched over you, testing your new name on her tongue.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

UNRAVELING YOU TAGLIST: @harknessshi

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