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criibibi · 3 months ago

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Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm

With the beginning of a new day it was like the calm before the storm. You stood up pretty late at night, making your way to a center, luckily they didn’t push for information knowing your situation is a dime a dozen around these parts.

Thank god. Though you did debate giving them your name or even a nickname, you decided against it. After all, you’re not staying here long term, you don’t need to cement your name here. Not as a civilian, or as spider-woman.

You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong here.

After having a fresh meal, bless the hearts of the passionate people out there giving out kindness like air, fix yourself up, and return to your makeshift home to decompress.

The cold air nipping at your face cools you off, making you vigilant of your surroundings. Quiet, a bit too quiet. Gotham isn’t known for its silence after all. Pushing the uncomfortable feelings aside, you decide to call it a night.

Making significant progress on your watch became your saving grace. The anchor of your sanity.

So the first thing you did in the morning was quickly get a nice breakfast at a shelter before dedicating your time to building the beacon until nightfall.

The voices in your head were getting restless so you even fixed up a radio you found in the piles of junk just to have a noise buzz in the background.

Days, you spent days inside this safezone you made a shelter out of. Two days to be exact. With how limited and unlimited your resources are, you had no time to waste. You had your own world to get back to, and help Miguel stop the Spot. Every day you spend here is costing you so much already. But you keep going, because you know you’re making progress.

Your routine was mostly some time in the morning, eat and wash up at any center, and go straight back to the junkyard. Snack for lunch and for dinner, back at another center. You make sure to hop around so as to not draw attention or to get familiar with anyone.

You don’t belong. Pretender, faker, liar, fraud, phony, sham.

You know that better than anyone else. You feel like a fraud. This world is like a different color pallet, monochromatic to you. You can’t stain this world with your presence.

You’re getting nauseous just thinking about it.

When taking some semblance of a break, you usually take walks to calm your mind in the morning, where crime is least likely to occur. And so far, you’re right!

Though there were a few (three) instances of muggers, and a drug dealer. Though you did stop (and robbed) them, but not as spider-woman, just as normal (fake) civilian you.

Those were the one’s just in your way or happening to you. Other than that, you have not put on the spider-woman suit to fight crime.

Why would you?

You were about to return home soon, if everything ends well. And it seems like luck is on your side since you have not caught a glimpse or heard any of the batsonas nearby. This also gave you hope.

So, how do you celebrate your near completion of your super secret science project?

Well, with ice-cream and a place of destination for your super secret science project!

So off to the library you go!

Finishing your ice-cream, you take in a breath of the polluted air of Gotham and make your way towards the library.

It was silent, and tranquil. Something you weren’t able to feel for some time. No big baddies escaping Arkham, no terrorist attacks, no bombing threats, no bat encounters, nothing. Just silence, and peace. And you embrace it with everything you have.

Your constant tense body finally felt itself ease as your stress levels went down.

Entering the library and once again greeting the librarian, you made your way back to the same seat you did days ago. With a clear mind, you browse the maps and possible locations for your beacon.

Finding a couple of very good locations, you made sure to memorize the landmarks and streets so you can pick the closest one.

You were giddy! Basically shaking in excitement. Tonight is the night! You just need to tweak a few things and you would be good to go! You would finally have a signal that can ping your location! And if you have time, you will be able to message Miguel through your signal.

With excitement, you quickly left the library and made your way back to the junkyard. Days of your blood sweat and tears, will all finally pay off your desperation to go back home.

Just a couple of adjustments.

Running into the warehouse, you turned on the radio and began to work.

Hours upon hours and you finally managed to get something done. It might have looked like a baby’s school robotics science project but hey! Ya got something at least!

You made something fast, not pretty.

Now, to connect his baby to a power source that won’t reveal your location- god knows you don’t need the bats up on your ass. If you trusted this world more, maybe you would have gone to Batman/Bruce Wayne first. But you know that- one, that idea is garbage at best, that’s how you would most likely get your cute ass locked at Arkham. And two, you know for a fact that Batman doesn’t trust metahumans or something- and you having enhanced powers in your fucking DNA, makes you the paranoid one.

You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially the Batman’s. It just boils down to, you don’t trust him or his brood of sidekicks. That and the fact that if you could do it by yourself then you will.

And you’re already doing it. Ha! Take that universe!

This was a job for spider-woman. Changing into your suit, you hurriedly carried your mini beacon, and soared through buildings to find an appropriate source of electricity. You know you don’t have the right technology (you’re using scraps for fuck sake) to create an effective and accurate signal, but with this little baby, you should be able to send out a general area ping.

This way, for anyone who is looking for you (you fucking hope so) they can lock into a general area of the multiverse.

You are holding onto hope you get discovered soon.

Landing on top of a random construction site, you made quick work setting your things up. Connecting the cable to your beacon, and one towards your watch, you use the last cable and walk over a power generator.

This is it, this is where you’ll finally finally have a semblance of a chance to leave this universe. You just want to go home. You don’t exist here, you checked when scrolling through the web.

Not someone who looks like you- or a spider-woman either. You don’t belong here, and you never had the intention to play pretend either. This world isn’t your problem and you aren’t needed. So, now you’ll ping your location and go home.

Your very own emergency distress signal.

You plug your cable in the generator and it causes a power surge.

You pray to be discovered.

“B! It’s happening again!” Oracle’s alarmed voice caused Batman to head out immediately. “But this time it’s different!”

“Same place?” Hopping into his batmobile he sped off. “Different how?”

“No, this time it’s in the Narrows. A construction site twenty minutes from your location. It’s pinging like crazy!” Oracle couldn’t understand what was happening.

It had been a regular Thursday night until she got a ping of another disturbance. Not quite the ‘quantum disturbance’ like a few days ago, but then it was the flickering power surge. She was quick this time, getting an accurate location and with Batman on the way, they’ll find out what this is.

“It’s definitely the same as a few days ago, but not big enough, not strong enough. Causing a power surge!”

The surge only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds too long. Then silence and all the light and energy came flickering back in that area.

“Robin’s close, he’s on his way B.” As if nothing had happened. Oracle wasted no time in finding cameras to see the situation. But the ripple effect caused security cameras to shut down for the duration of the surge. “Shit. Cameras are down- can’t find anyone in or out.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. This was a grunt of annoyance.

Upon arriving on the scene, Batman made his way through the partially completed construction site. There stood only one other figure, and it was Robin.

“There was no sign of the perpetrator when I got here.” He spoke, his fixed glare at the spot where the ping was the strongest. “I surveyed the surroundings, nothing.” Frustration was clear in his voice and clenched teeth.

This confirms what Oracle said through the comms.

Batman sighed. Whatever was here, left just as quickly. This means that whatever caused a quantum disturbance days ago, is still here. In his city. In Gotham. And when he finds them, he’ll make sure to squeeze out every bit of information they possess.

He won’t take any chances of possible alien life force coming and going as they please.

“We’re not completely at a loss.” His words caught Robin’s attention, so he continued. “That means whoever did this is still here. It wasn’t as big as the other one, which means the recreation was not enough. Whoever or whatever it is, is still here.”

Robin processed the information and affirmed. “Understood. Means they will try again. And soon.” Robin makes sure to ping this area as a priority zone.

Batman nodded. He will find whoever is behind this. No matter the costs.

Nothing will escape their watch.

“No! No no nonono!”

Just as you plugged in the cable to the generator a huge surge of power came through, quickly to find a connection.

Your watch sprang to life, a bright screen greeted you and quickly you sprung to action. Seeing the universe number glitch but readable.

Finding a smidgen of a connection, you started calling Miguel; it couldn't even connect.

You wanted to sob.

“Miguel! Miguel please please see this! Please please please!” Then the connection went out and the watch turned black.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down on you.

You tried, you really did try! You did your best. You have always done your best. But in the end, it seems that no matter how hard you fought or tried to fight, defend, and protect, it just was never enough. But you lost waaaaay too much to give up. Especially now.

You’ll get discovered soon. And not by the ones you want to meet. “Fuck!”

You couldn’t let this get to you. They might be coming. Quickly unplugging the cables you grab the beacon and swing away, using the night as your cover to make a grand escape.

After all, you still were able to at least find a connection, just not a strong one. Try again next time.

A fire grew inside you. That’s right, you’ll just try again, and this time make something better. As long as you weren’t caught you can still make something better. “Can’t give up.” You spoke through your tears. You’ll fix this, you have too. It’s just you against the world.

Just like Miguel, you’ll throw yourself into fixing things. Making it better.

The obsession of trying to make things right by any means necessary, broken and unbroken. Take things apart and build it back together again, same and before, or better, greater even.

A Tinkerer if you will. Anything to be useful, needed, wanted. And in order for you to feel that, you’ll build an even stronger signal. This time, you’ll make your watch better.

You know Hobie Brown knows how to build his own watch. You both do. Discussed it when Hobie casually said he missed your presence at times. So you’ll just upgrade yours.

Building a better beacon and upgrading your watch requires more material. So you’ll plan for the days ahead. You will learn from this failure. You have to. You need to.

Your greatest failures were failing to save Ben, protect May, and defend Peter, those you cared for the most. You can’t afford to fail this. You will make it back. It just seems that you’ll be stuck here just a tad bit longer.

“That’s okay… everything will be okay.” Your erratic mind becomes calm again.

You learned to take responsibility for your actions and mistakes, learned to accept the consequences and help others face their own, and finally to heal and move forwards, to hope. And right now, you’re hoping for a better outcome soon.

“I can do this.” Landing on the warehouse you climbed through a window, throwing your mask to the side, landing on your workbench. “I can do better.”

You were known as a dangerous spider. You have years of experience, years of trials and tribulations, you’re smart, curious, and compassionate. But you’re hungry, always hungry to learn more, to consume knowledge. You use what you learn and become better than yesterday.

You’re a dangerous spider because you always come out of every experience learning more, learning to be better as you adapt, plan and overcome every obstacle in your way.

You’re a dangerous spider, because you push yourself to the brink it’s almost madness. Your obsession of not being weak, helpless, and vulnerable forced your body to adapt at a rapid pace. It terrified your enemies and comrades. And how easily you can hide that obsession is also terrifying.

It’s the calm before the storm.

And right now, you need to plan better. You’ll leave the Narrows, go somewhere else. Possibly Park Row? No. That’s the Red Hoods territory. Maybe somewhere less chaotic. Oh! East End sounds perfect! It’s one of the places Batman doesn’t really interfere with.

Perfect.

You’ll only leave once you finish your beacons. Because you know the bats will come here, and most certainly discover that someone has been here building no matter how you try to cover up your doings.

Batman is just that good. You just won’t take any chances.

In a different universe far faaaaaaar away. Miguel discovered a heartbreaking partially audible voice recording of his missing protégé.

Location unknown. Coordinates unknown. Universe unknown.

You were lost, and he doesn’t know how to find you.

Prev; Next;

I know it feels like I'm rushing and to that- fair probably. I also really want to get into the bat family and stuff. Their actual civilian personas i mean. Not their vigilante alter ego. You are going to meet them next chapter for sure, I just need to find a way to up the states for you. Make you feel dread and anxious.

I'm not a funny person, so I feel like I am doing the spider-sona injustice. Rip.

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popamolly · 11 months ago

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‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR

summary. Alastor grapples with the realization that he might actually have feelings for you, as you contend with the internal conflict of obeying your mother's wishes or pursuing your own happiness.

warnings. dark romance, smut if you squint, human!alastor, age gap! you’re in your early 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s, you're naive, Alastor preys on your innocence, blood, kidnapping, implied murder, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. thank you so much for 800 followers! as well as the amount of love this story is getting! i am enjoying writing for human!Alastor and can’t for you all see where i’ll take this. enjoy sinners. (also, if you saw the rough draft and all the mistakes, no you didn’t)

One moment you were on Alastor’s cluttered desk and the next you were in his spacious bed. You had no idea how you got there as it all remained a mysterious blur. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on both of your bodies as you two continued to move in sync with one another. Straddling his waist, the rhythmic dance against his hips had your head tossed back in pure bliss. It was a slow, deep, sensation that was vastly different from a few hours before.

His fingernails dragged across your back as he watched your face contort in pleasure, he loved the sight of you— the various marks on you caused by him stirred something within him. It made him wonder how many times can he break you before you crumbled into a million of tiny pieces.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in Alastor’s bed again, only this time you were alone just as the sun reached its peak in the sky. The sunlight was so bright you had to squint your eyes as you sat up in the bed. A delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wafted through the air making your stomach grumble. Knowing that Alastor was perhaps in the kitchen, you pull the sheets from over you and go to stand, your legs felt like jelly and the soreness you felt in between your legs truly made it harder to walk.

You scanned the room for something to wear. All traces of modesty had disappeared since Alastor had taken you across nearly every piece of furniture in his possession, at that point what did you have to be modest about? Opting for one of his blouses, you opened his closet with the expectation of finding a more varied collection, only to discover that each blouse and pair of trousers adhered to a more monochromatic theme.

While reaching for a shirt, you accidentally knocked down another hanger. As you got on your knees to searched for the fallen garment on the floor, your fingertips brushed against a wooden box that was neatly tucked away into the shadows of the closet, sparking your curiosity. You sat down on the floor of the closet, dragging the box toward you to open it- but it was locked.

You decided to leave it be, excusing it as a mere heirloom or something of importance to Alastor. It was left in the back of your mind as you retreat from the closet, you changed into the blouse before leaving his bedroom to follow the delightful scent of breakfast- but before you left the room, you couldn't resist picking up Alastor's forgotten glasses from his nightstand.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the delicious scent of breakfast intensified. The memories of the night before lingered in your mind, a mix of passion and tenderness with Alastor. The soreness between your legs served as a reminder of the intimate moments you shared.

You found Alastor humming a jazz tune as he cooked, completely absorbed in his culinary endeavors. The clinking of utensils against pans filled the air, harmonizing with his cheerful humming. He turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, good morning, my dear," Alastor greeted, his tone a mix of charm and, at least you hoped, genuine affection. "I hope you slept well."

"Goodmorning Alastor, I did sleep well, thank you," you returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in the domestic scene. The small kitchen table was set for two, adorned with a simple but elegant lace. Alastor had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane tasks seem like an art form.

You took a seat at the table, placing his glasses carefully beside you. Alastor joined you, serving a delicious-looking breakfast onto your plate.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the spread before you. "We had a long night so I am sure you are quite famished.”

You looked down at your silverware as you thanked him, your entire body heating up at the mention of your shared affairs last night as you dug into the meal, savoring the flavors. The comfortable silence between you and Alastor spoke volumes, a example of the connection formed between you two during the night.

Alastor sat across from you with a delighted hum, newspaper in hand while he sipped from his coffee mug in the other, "And how are you faring, my dear? I supposed I did get quite carried away." He broke the domestic silence with a grin, his eyes looking over your neck that was littered with marks. His marks.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, "I enjoyed it really, it was good...for my first time." You all but whispered the last part.

"Well that eases my worry," Alastor puts on his glasses to rest them on the bridge of his nose as he looks over his newspaper again, turning the page as he crosses his right leg over his left, “Let me know if you prefer tea in the morning, I have some brewing on the stove for the afternoon.”

Tea. You audibly gasp at the word as the realization dawned on you. You were supposed to be at home, sick in bed, and drinking tea— that was your cover for the night but the night was long since over. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was thirty minutes until eight o’clock, which was the usual time for breakfast to be served at your house. Your mother always expected you at the table a minute before her, groomed and ready for the day ahead. If you weren’t there on time then surely it’ll cause suspicion.

“I hate to cut this short but I have to go,” You hurriedly gobble up the rest of your food before standing up from your chair, “I have to be home soon or my mother will kill me!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the irony in that, “Surely, you have time to at least finish your coffee?”

You spared the moment a thought but ultimately shook your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t,” you walked past Alastor to go into his bedroom to slip on your clothes from the night before. His footsteps followed, accompanied by the jingle of car keys in hand.

As you hurriedly grabbed your belongings, Alastor offered to ease your worry with a smile, "I'll drive you home. No need to rush alone in your state of distress."

Grateful for the assistance, you nodded in agreement, and together, you both left his place. You felt different now, a bit lighter, more mature as you slipped into the passenger side of Alastor's car. He held the door open and closed it for you like a true gentleman. The car ride was filled with light banter, Alastor's charismatic demeanor easing the tension that lingered from your hasty departure.

Once you reached your home, Alastor parked the car a little ways away from your estate and turned to you. "Thank you for the company, darling. I hope your mother's wrath is not as fearsome as you anticipate."

You chuckled nervously, appreciating his understanding. "I hope so too. And thank you for everything, Alastor.. I enjoyed our time together."

He leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. "Until we meet again," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

With a promise to see each other soon hanging in the air, you slipped through the back door of your home, grateful for the concealment it offered. Hastily, you made your way to your room, hurriedly taking off the clothes from the night before taking a moment to compose yourself. You had only a few minutes to spare and you couldn't waste them.

After freshening up in your own personal water closet, you did your hair as neatly, and quickly, as you could— following up with a light touch of makeup. The faint taste of Alastor's farewell kiss lingered, and you couldn't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Now, groomed and ready, you braced yourself for the day ahead and the potential questions your mother might have about your ailment.

You rushed downstairs into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filling the air. Just as you took your seat, your mother entered, her expression stoic. Unfazed, you greeted her with a bright smile, attempting to mask any trace of your recent escapades.

"Good morning Mother, How did you sleep?" you asked cheerfully, reaching for the toast as if it were any ordinary morning.

Your mother eyed you with a raised eyebrow, as she sat down at the head of the table, allowing the maid beside her to pour her tea, "Well enough, dear. I found myself tossing and turning all night. And you? That cold seemed to be really troubling you last night."

You laughed nervously, hoping your casual demeanor would deflect any probing questions. "It was, I could hardly get out of bed last night but thankfully sleep eventually came."

She continued to observe you, suspicion lingering in her gaze. Of course she knows you snuck out but she wouldn't reveal her cards too early. She would let you have this win for now in the hopes that when your rendezvous did come to light, your spirit would be so crushed by then that you'd have no other choice but to lean on your mother for support because she knew that this was a mere distraction for you and you were nothing but a toy to the man that wanted to use you. Your mother should know, after all she was a young girl once herself. "Mm-hmm," she responded, not fully convinced as she eyed the turtleneck dress you wore. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "Not really, just a quiet night. How about you? Anything exciting on your end?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing you for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual."

Relieved, you continued with a light breakfast, inwardly sighing at the narrow escape. Little did your mother know about the intriguing night you had spent with Alastor, and you hoped to keep it that way—for now, at least.

As you sipped your tea, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further inquiries, your mother decided to drop a bombshell. With a casual tone, she announced, "Silly me, but I forgot to mention that we're hosting a party in two days. We must prepare you for that so I have list of errands we need to run. Oh, and I've decided it's time that I take over in your matchmaking process."

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly choking on your tea. "A party? Matchmaking? Mom, that's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Your mother smiled innocently as she was spreading jam on her toast. "Nonsense, dearest. You've had quite a bit of freedom lately, and I think it's only fair that I take charge of finding you a suitable partner."

You were taken aback by the revelation. "Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs. I don't need you picking a match for me."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "And where has that led us? It's time to consider your future. I've arranged for some eligible suitors to attend the party, and by the end of the night, we'll have a decision."

You felt a sense of frustration and helplessness. The control over your own choices slipping away yet again, replaced by the traditional expectations your mother seemed determined to enforce. As you finished your breakfast, a sense of foreboding settled in—the upcoming party was more than just a social gathering. It held the potential to reshape your life in ways you may not be ready for.

As the conversation about the upcoming party lingered, a maid entered the room, carefully placing a radio on the table. You couldn't help but notice that this particular maid was new, and a quick glance around revealed that the other servants bustling about the home were also unfamiliar faces.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned in and asked your mother, "Mother, What happened to our usual staff?"

Your mother, engrossed in the morning radio, responded nonchalantly, "Oh, I fired them, dear. They simply weren't meeting my standards. Now, please hold your tongue; I'm trying to listen to the morning news."

You were left you speechless, a mix of surprise and concern washing over you. The familiar faces that had been a constant presence in your household were replaced without warning. You couldn't help but wonder what had transpired behind the scenes and what might be the real reason for this sudden change. Then you realized that maybe your mother knew of your outing with Alastor and she was acting like she didn't, and if she was, why was she acting clueless?

Your mind began swirling with questions about the upcoming party, the matchmaking, and now the unexplained dismissal of the longtime staff. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, leaving you with an uneasy feeling about the changes that were unfolding in your once-familiar surroundings.

"Oh, what a delightful morning it is! I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night, as I certainly did!" Alastor's voice resonated through the radio, carrying a distinct weight. Despite being the renowned radio show host, he seemed like an entirely different person. Though the broadcast introduced some static, his charm remained. "Let's kick off this morning with some smooth jazz tunes, shall we? I have Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven's top hits ready to grace your ears! We'll return shortly after this brief interlude, folks!"

Alastor flipped off one switch on his microphone and activated another. The sounds of "Potato Head Blues" filled the airwaves, spreading throughout New Orleans. While the jazz played in the warehouse, Alastor rose from his chair with an irritated groan, heading towards a locked closet at the end of the hall. Using a key, he unlocked the door and descended the creaky wooden stairs. As he reached the bottom step, another voice in the room caught his attention.

"Mmmh!" The person, bound to a chair with a cloth in their mouth, struggled against their restraints, fear evident in their eyes as they observed Alastor approaching with a stoic expression. Tear-filled eyes followed his movements as he walked to a table in the corner, his fingertips brushing over an array of displayed knives. "Mmmph! Hmph!"

"Your grunts and stifled screams are growing rather tiresome," Alastor remarked, his hand hovering over one of his cherished knives with a sinister grin. Lifting it up, the blade gleamed in the light. "I understand it's rather solitary in this space. You were supposed to have a companion, but," Alastor pulled a wooden chair across the floor, creating an unsettling echo against the concrete. He positioned himself in front of the restrained individual, heightening the bone-chilling atmosphere, "plans change."

Alastor glided the blade deliberately across the person's cheek, the chilling touch of the metal causing involuntary shivers. Despite their struggles against the restraints, Alastor sighed, tapping the blade against their skin in a disturbingly mocking rhythm.

"This person, this woman," Alastor mused, tilting his head to the side, "is confusing me, and I don't like it." The sadistic atmosphere in the room thickened as he increased the pressure of the blade against their cheek, drawing blood. Suddenly, he halted, as if a realization had struck him.

"But I don't hate it either," Alastor declared with an unsettling calmness, leaving an ominous pause that lingered in the air. The duality of his emotions toward the captive person added a perplexing layer to the unfolding scene, intensifying the disturbing nature of the situation.

Alastor, maintaining his eerie composure, turned to the restrained person and asked, "What do you think? Is it true love?" A twisted amusement gleamed in his eyes as he awaited a response.

A cruel chuckle escaped him as he noticed the person's inability to answer, their mouth securely gagged. The absurdity of the question in the face of their silent predicament seemed to amuse the madman further. The room resonated with Alastor's unsettling laughter, creating an atmosphere of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. The captive, helpless and silenced, could only endure the scene unfolding before them knowing that this would be the last sight they ever see.

"One, two, three, one, two-" The ballroom echoed with the rhythmic counting of the waltz, your mother diligently guiding you through the steps. As you twirled with your elderly dance partner, your mind drifted to Alastor. The memory of dancing with him under the stars tugged at your heart, and an undeniable longing for him filled your thoughts.

In the midst of the waltz, you couldn't shake the yearning to be with him, whether listening to his radio broadcasts or engaging in casual conversations over coffee. The mere thought of Alastor sent your heart racing, leaving you flustered and questioning the nature of these emotions. Was this love? The answer seemed evident with each flutter of your heart, each bounce of the balls of your feet. Love, it seemed, had taken root in your heart.

The dance partner, an elderly servant, winced as your foot landed squarely on his toes. "I am so sorry!" you began to apologize, but your mother's sharp voice cut through the room.

"A woman must be graceful like a swan," she admonished, tapping the back of your thighs with a cane, the sting making you wince, "not a tumbling tiger."

"I—" You attempted to offer excuses, but your mother's stern gaze silenced you.

"You are distracted," she declared, shaking her head in disapproval. "I need you to dismiss whatever is taking over your mind and be present. The ball is tomorrow, and I can't have you embarrassing me on your big day." The weight of her expectations pressed upon you, urging you to set aside your personal feelings and focus on the upcoming event.

A heavy sigh escaped your mother's lips as she turned her attention to the elderly servant. "You may leave us," she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. The servant bowed slightly, acknowledging the dismissal before exiting the ballroom.

Now alone, your mother circled you, her scrutinizing gaze causing you to shrink under her watchful eyes. The atmosphere grew tense as she examined you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

With each step, your mother's presence loomed, and the weight of her expectations seemed to intensify. The impending ball was not just an event; it was a reflection of her social standing, and any misstep could ruin her reputation. As she circled, you couldn't help but feel the pressure to conform to her ideals and expectations, the desire for personal connection and freedom momentarily eclipsed by the demands of societal decorum.

Your mother's gaze didn't miss the marks on your neck you tried to hide, remnants of the passionate night you spent with Alastor. She dismissed it with a grimace, a silent disapproval lingering in her expression.

As the tension in the room hung thick, your mother took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak once again. "Did I ever tell you the story of how I was in love?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Of course, you and father—" you began, but your mother cut you off with a firm gesture. "This was before your father. Before everything…before I became a woman of high society."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and you could sense that she was about to share a piece of her past, a side of her life that you hadn't even thought to acknowledge. As the ball loomed on the horizon, the barriers between you and your mother seemed to momentarily lower, providing a glimpse into a time when love and passion took precedence over societal expectations.

"I fell in love with a man during the summer months," your mother began, her voice carrying a bittersweet tone. She continued to circle you, sharing the intimate details of a past you had only glimpsed before. "He swept me off my feet quickly, and I was blinded by that love because, in my eyes, he was my happily ever after."

Your eyes widened as you listened intently to your mother's story. The ballroom, once filled with the echoes of waltz music, now held a poignant atmosphere as she delved into her personal history.

"I was merely a farmer's daughter, and he, a factory worker. It truly was a good match. But…" Her mother's expression darkened at the memory. "My dear, you can give a man everything, every ounce of your entire being, and he will still want more."

As the weight of her words settled, you could sense the bitter undertones of regret and heartache in your mother's story. It opened a window into her past, a time when love seemed boundless, yet reality had its own lessons to impart. The circling continued, each step a reminder of the complexities that love could bring.

"What I thought was love was nothing but a game to him," your mother continued, her voice carrying the weight of past heartache. The circling ceased abruptly, and her cane tapped hard against the ballroom floor as if emphasizing the gravity of her words. "He was gone with autumn, taking everything I had given him—my money, my body…my soul. I would've been truly ruined if it wasn't for your father."

She stood in front of you, gripping your chin harshly, forcing you to meet her gaze with glossy eyes. "I say all of that to say, do not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing."

The words hung in the air, resonating with the tale she had just shared. The ballroom, once a place of elegance and grace, now echoed with the cautionary wisdom of a mother who had weathered the storms of love and loss. The vulnerability in her eyes and the firmness of her grip conveyed the sincerity of her warning, urging you to tread carefully in matters of the heart.

"I don't care what you do from this point forward but know this, you will attend the ball in your honor and you will marry the man who I deem worthy of you, understood?" After your mother releases her grip from your chin, tapping her cane once more, she steps aside, allowing you to pass. "Practice is over. You may go," she declares.

The aftermath of this encounter leaves tears welling in your eyes and a heavy weight in your chest. Unable to meet your mother's gaze, you hurry past her, fleeing the ballroom without a backward glance. In your rush, you even collide with a maid, but offer no apology as you hurry out the front door. Emotions swirl within you, mingling anger towards your mother with a deeper frustration directed toward yourself. The struggle between fulfilling family expectations and pursuing your own happiness weighed heavily on your mind. Are you truly prepared to forsake everything for Alastor? And more importantly, would he do the same for you?

Descending the stone steps of your home in haste, you decided to find Alastor and confront the questions you've been avoiding. Only his response would determine your next move.

"Mr. Ray?" You lean down to peer through the driver's side window, where your family chauffeur is taking a cigarette break. His complexion blends seamlessly with the setting sun. "Could you take me somewhere?"

"Without your mother?" He arches an eyebrow. "I believe you still require a chaperone, young lady."

"She allowed me out for the afternoon as long as I am back before curfew. Please, I'll be under your watchful eye. I promise to behave," you nearly beg, your puppy-dog eyes meeting his.

With a resigned sigh, the chauffeur relents. "Get in," he says, giving in to your plea and falling for your sweet lie.

With a sense of purpose, you climbed into the car, knowing that the journey ahead would be filled with uncertainty but you were determined in proving your mother wrong, you wanted to follow your happiness and Alastor was that happiness because in your mind— no, in your heart, you knew you loved him.

@queenmizuki @sirens-and-moonflowers @poppingaround @happytacojudgepalace @mo-0-o @harmfulb1tch @tiredkiwiii @moody-mod @themoonitselff @darifes @whocaresimnothere @boogiemansbitch @stygianoir @miyu-kii @jam0001 @theredviolets @olive-frog @t0xic1vi @chirimeimei @luzzbuzz @simp-erman @arsonist0621 @abi99gail @mistpurpl3 @burninupa-star @manicjk @foxykatniss123 @night-shadowblood-writes2 @dissociativeidentitydumbass @jam0001 @virtualgirlie @dickmastersworld @yesyesbread @corvid007@moody-mod @vexendoe @peachmangovivi

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Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

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lexo-is-pesto · 6 months ago

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I'm so excited to finally post this.

My full Murder Drones reference! so hopefully I can keep up consistency

Obviously, this is full of my own head canons so close ups and explanations under the cut (it's a LOT) >;]

To be totally honest my focus was on the main characters, and I think that shows in the designs of the Manor Drones and Cabin Fever Squad. BUT I'll still do my best to explain my process here.

For the Disassemblers I decided to do very different builds for each but the same color pallet.

My idea here was that since each have a different designation letter, that was akin to their model type. That's also why "the company" was able to clone J so easily, they just had her model on file. (also like to imagine there are 26 different forms of the Disassemblers Imao).

I had all the colors remain the same to show their unity and of course the Absolute Solver-ification of the basic Worker Drone color scheme. Essentially, I just took the monochromatic WD colors and put the highlighter yellow over it that Cyn loves so much.

For J I did a more lean and strong build. I wanted her to exude that leader energy. I also made her Core a star shape for similar reasons and then I also noticed that N and V had caution stripes at the top of their legs but as far as I could see J didn't, so I decided to add those to the very top of her legs to finish the garter belt look she's got going on. For her hair, I actually really like the pigtails I just flattened them out a bit because the big cutesy poof they had didn't fit her style in my opinion. I brought it back for her worker form though.

With V I gave her a round yet sharp look. (My favorite added detail is the sharp shoulders) I did make her the shortest of the DD because everyone loves the small but vicious archetype. For her core I made it a sword or spear shape, because she's extra violent. And finally, I made her legs a little more pointed than J's to finish off the sharp look.

Last but CERTAINLY not least, N's design is meant to be soft and plushy but still has a little edge to it. His hair is fluffy but the tufts curl to be sharp, His core is meant to look like a heart but it's upside down so the point is still facing the top (which makes it look more like a club but whatever) I gave him a rounder torso than the other two and his elbow and kneecaps are softer too. His general construction is still menacing, though, so don't get too comfortable with all the fluff. I also spent a LONG time contemplating if I should make his thighs black to look like little biker shorts to contrast with J and V's sock looks but went against it because I love how the hazard stripes stand out against the white.

For N and V's worker forms I basically took out all the sharp edges and rounded them out. J's still a little sharp though not as much.

With the Workers I did the opposite of the DD. They have the EXACT same body types (minus Uzi because she's little) and instead I changed their color schemes to all be unique to their eye lights

Since Worker Drones were made to... well... WORK I think their initial manufacturing would be pretty uniform. A copy and paste if you will. It was only when they were left to their own devices that the WD started to customize themselves. Thus came the wigs and clothes.

I like to think the color started with those infected with the Solver, so Yeva and Nori gained color and then passed that on to their kids. Thats also why Alice has color, but Khan, The Manor Squad, and some other drones in the colony don't. Does not explain Lizzy and Thad though (maybe they have a distant relative that had the solver idk)

It was a lot harder to infer about what a base WD body would look like Maybe I was just looking in the wrong places, but I had to infer with things like the worker helmets, we see every WD except Uzi wear one but they seem more coordinated with their outfits so I decided to just continue my color head-canon that its naturally monochrome and you can customize it if you want to!

I added a light to the feet of the worker drones to match the hand lights. I don't think there's a canon reason for the lights but, on the workers at least. I think they're there to help them do grunt work in the dark! to light their ways in caves or tight spaces so they could do their job better. Now they're just another robot cosmetic

For the Parents, I gave them wrinkles because I thought it was unfair that Khan was the only one who got them. So, Nori gets crow's feet hurray! No but I probably had the most difficult time with these drones. It was hard to separate the canon from fanon since we know so little about them, but I fought off all the demons to keep their designs relatively grounded. Minus Khan's scar. And Alice's more natural horns. and-

I also gave some drones eyelashes. just cause. if I thought it fit, I added it and if it didn't, I didn't add it.

Now you may be wondering "Lexo what's up with all the cracks!?" the idea here is that it's the solver taking over. We see in Cabin Fever and Home that the solver virus fundamentally changes the body of a drone. The crack in the casing is basically this process. Depending on the stage of which your drone is at it changes the intensity. We see Cyn being the main host and essentially patient 0, so she has the most cracks. It starts at the core then spreads until it reshapes you entirely and you become a Disassembly Drone. Unless you stop it in time. Thats why J, V, and N have the pale lines on the bottom of their torso, they're more pretty and cleaner since they achieved the solvers "final form" so to speak. Nori and Yeva on the other hand, have repaired cracks but they're still messy since they were stopped mid-way. Alice, however, did not stop the spread with the solver cure since she was "abandoned" so instead she just cut out her core entirely. Yup. Shes functioning on pure insanity and spite at this point. And then of course with the new hosts, there is light spreading. TL: DR the cracks are a zombie bite.

But that's it for my Murder Drones head canons and designs! If you read all the way to the end, you're a champ and I love you. Have a cookie superstar <3🍪

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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago

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An Eternal Embarce*

(a hades!harry x persephone!y/n story)

in which Persephone is back after 6 months, and the Underworld blossoms once again. Tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of Underworld and Queen of Spring can't handle together

Word Count: 7.7k (she's long)

Warnings: 18+ content, two smut scenes, almost 3k words of filth, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex

(please don't read if you are under 18)

(i worked really hard on this, please don't let it flop)

The Underworld was buzzing with excitement as Hades, also known as Harry, eagerly awaited the return of his beloved Persephone. It had been six months since she went up to the mortal realm, leaving him to rule the shadowy realms alone. The air in the Underworld seemed charged with an otherworldly energy, as if the entire realm was eager for the return of the goddess of spring.

As autumn's chill embraced the realms, the anticipation in the underworld grew. Harry felt a mix of excitement and longing as he waited for his queen's return. The portal shimmered, and Persephone, or Yn, stepped through, casting a radiant glow in the room. A soft smile adorned her lips, and the enchanting aroma of blooming flowers and the essence of spring filled the space.

As Persephone returns to the underworld, the atmosphere undergoes a subtle transformation. The dim-lit halls, once draped in shadows, seem to awaken with a newfound vibrancy. The air, usually heavy with an eternal stillness, stirs with a gentle breeze that carries a hint of blooming flowers and the sweet fragrance of spring.

The normally monochromatic landscape of the underworld begins to blossom with hues unseen during her absence. Delicate petals materialize, scattering across the paths she walks, leaving a trail of ephemeral beauty in her wake. The soft glow of luminescent flowers unfurls, casting a warm and gentle radiance in the once-shadowy corners of Hades' realm.

The underworld, typically shrouded in an eternal night, experiences a subtle shift in its cosmic arrangement. Faint glimmers of starlight twinkle above, mirroring the celestial display of the world above ground during her reign. It's as if the heavens themselves acknowledge her return, gracing the underworld with a beautiful celestial dance.

Hades, the lord of shadows, finds the weight of his kingdom momentarily lifted. The throne room, usually draped in a somber ambiance, basks in a soft, romantic glow. Shadows playfully dance with the ethereal light, creating a captivating interplay that mirrors the complexity of the emotions within the lord of the underworld.

The Underworld River, typically calm and placid, shivers with newfound life. Its waters, once still as the deepest abyss, ripple with a subtle current, echoing the pulse of Persephone's return. The reflections on its surface seem to shimmer with an otherworldly luminosity, mirroring the radiance she brings to this realm.

In essence, Persephone's return to the underworld transforms it into a realm of juxtaposition—a delicate fusion of darkness and light, shadows and blooms, where the eternal night momentarily gives way to the ephemeral enchantment of spring. The very fabric of the underworld seems to resonate with the romantic cadence of her presence, creating a symphony of emotions and atmospheres that dance harmoniously in the wake of her return.

Their reunion, though expected, carried the weight of a prolonged separation. Harry, usually composed, found himself at a loss for words, an uncommon sight in the Underworld.

"You're back," he said, relief and joy evident in his voice. He was beyond thrilled to see her safe and sound.

Persephone, also known as Y/N in the nine realms, nodded, reaching out to touch his hand. "I always return, Hades. It's the rhythm of the seasons."

"I missed you," he said softly. "I missed your touch, your smell, just having you around. It felt like forever without you."

Y/N smiled, showing how much she loved and missed him. "I missed you too, Harry. Every moment away felt like a really long time."

"I brought you these," she said, offering a basket of flowers. "Fresh from the mortal realm."

Harry accepted the gift with gratitude, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance. "Mortal flowers in the Underworld, a rare delight. Thank you, my sweet love."

He carefully placed the flowers on the bed and pulled her close, his hands cradling her beautiful face. They looked into each other's eyes, savoring the moment. After a while, Harry leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a sweet and long-awaited kiss.

The kiss was like magic. His lips moved smoothly and knowingly against hers, igniting a spark of desire in each other. His mouth claimed her pushing his tongue in her eager mouth. His hands shifted down her body, grabbing her waist, and pulling her further into him.

The absence of each other had stretched over time, intensifying the beauty of this long-awaited moment. It was as if time stopped, and it was just the two of them in that special moment.

Y/N let herself be handled by him, eagerly closing the space between them. She grabbed his shoulders, and her other hand went in his hair, pulling at it as she moaned into his mouth.

“God, you’re so beautiful” he whispered, fighting the urge to fall to his knees right then and there, and worship the beautiful goddess in front of him. Y/N smiled, looking up at her husband with passion and adoration.

Maybe he will.

“I want to worship you, my love.” He whispered into her ear, gently biting her earlobe. She shivered, her grip on his hair and shoulders loosening. She knew where this was going.

And she liked it.

“Mhm, but do we have time? I have to greet everyone as soon as I arrive”

He groaned, grabbing at her attire wantingly.

“That can wait, my love. They can wait. Right now, you’re mine. Only mine. And I want you. Your legs wrapped around my head, your thighs spread wide as I eat that sweet cunt of yours.

Her cheeks turned red, her mouth parting in an instant. She had been waiting for this too, to have his eager mouth on each part of her body, to become his, once again. And again. And again.

“I do too, my love. But-“

He brought a finger up to her lips, stopping her from finishing her sentence.

“No but’s or if’s. I want you, and I shall have you” with that, he grabbed her waist, turning them both around. His lips were back on hers, and he walked her backwards, till the back of her knees hit the mattress. With a swift motion, her body was thrown on it, her hair flopping down messily. Her chest bounced too, the tops of her breasts peeking out from the tight corset she was wearing. He licked his lips; he couldn’t wait to have his mouth on her heavenly body.

He flopped down on the bed, once again, stealing a quick kiss on her lips. His hands gripped the bottom of her skirt, slowly and steadily riding it up her legs.

Y/N’s breathing increased rapidly, and she gripping the satin sheets beneath her in her palms to keep her composure. It had been mere moments of kissing, and she had already gotten so wet and needy for him.

Once the skirt was up to her waist, he wasted no time in removing the rest of the clothing, her panties included. They had a wet patch in the middle, and Harry smirked, fully aware of the effect he had on her, how he can get her all dripping down for him without even touching her.

“So wet fo’ me, my love” he said, and she gulped. He was staring at her exposed pussy with hunger in his eyes, and she felt exposed, trying to close her thighs.

His actions were quicker, and he gripped the warm flesh in his hands. Spreading them wide, he glared at her, and she nodded, silently promising to not hide herself from him.

He slid to his stomach, gripping her legs in both his hands. He shifted forward, allowing her to rest her ankles on his shoulder, the heels digging into the flesh.

He stuck his tongue out, keeping eye contact with her, as he licked a bold stripe from her ass to her clit, collecting her wetness on his tongue. He then closed his mouth, her sweet taste evading his senses.

She released the sheets from the death grip she had on them, and held Harry’s hand in hers, squeezing it hard. He went fully in then, licking up all of her arousal as if it were his last meal.

He licks up her pussy again, and again, and again. Her arousal seeps out more, her other hand creeping its way down to grab into his curls.

Harry realizes she wants more, and he spreads her pussy open. With an open mouth, he blows air on her clit, making her whimper out loud, before she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Y’ like that, pretty girl?” he asks rhetorically, and he starts to lick on her clit, teasing her entrance with his finger.

She moans pretty above him, as his licks become faster and concentrated. Her mind reels with pleasure as her pussy becomes wetter. He circles her opening with his finger, before gently pushing one in.

She releases a sigh of relief, as his cold finger pushes into her warm, wet hole. He pushes it in fully, before pressing a soft kiss to her clit.

He begins to finger-fuck her slowly; her moans and whimpers music to his ears. She opens up soon, and Harry pushes in another. Two fingers in her pussy, and her face contorts in pleasure as she senses the beginning of an orgasm.

“You feel good?” he asks, increasing the speed of his fingers into her weepy hole. He brings his mouth back down on her, kissing and licking her puffy clit. Her grip on his hair tightens, her moans becoming louder with each thrust of his long fingers, rubbing against her g-spot with ease. His fingers, and cock especially, reached spots inside her that she didn’t even know existed.

“I do…I do-Oh fuck!” she curses, as he brings his thumb on her clit, rubbing slow circles on it. Her legs tense, her back arching off the bed beautifully as her stomach tightens. She closes her eyes, her orgasm approaching at a pace faster than she had anticipated.

That’s when he does it-pushed one more finger in, and then one more. Holding her thighs wider as he drives them into her with full speed. Her legs shake as she screams and moans, a thin layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“Harry-I-I’m going to cum, Harry-“ she barely finishes her sentence, before the coil in her stomach snaps. She cums all over his mouth and fingers, chanting his name repeatedly as he finger-fucks her throughout, his thumb and mouth on her swollen clit, wanting to make her orgasm last longer, and to milk every drop from her sweet cunt. He licks it all up, and once she is finished, he emerges from between her legs, half of his face coated in her sweetness.

He looked up at his love, her eyes closed with content. Her face was glowing with the beautiful glow of pleasure, her cheeks flushed red. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

Soon, she opened her eyes, and Harry quickly shifted upward, encasing her lips in his. She could taste herself on him, and she sighed at the sweet taste lingering between them.

But, just when they were getting lost in the moment, there was a knock on the door. It was a reminder that they weren't alone, and other things needed attention.

Harry sighed and said, "Seems like we can't catch a break, love."

“We’ll be right out” he announces, before kissing her once again. They both get off the bed, and he helps her fix her dress and appearance, though the smell of sex lingered in the air, and their faces gave away what they tried to hide.

He opened the door soon, and was greeted by Hermes, the winged herald of Olympus.

"Lord Hades, Lady Persephone," Hermes bowed respectfully. "Zeus has requested your presence in the divine hall."

Harry exchanged a knowing glance with Y/N. The tranquility of the moment was momentarily interrupted by the summons from the king of the gods.

"We shall go at once," Harry replied, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his expression. Hermes nodded and, with a swift motion, extended a scroll containing Zeus's message. "He awaits you in the divine hall. The matter is of importance, my lord." Y/N placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

With a nod to Hermes, Harry and Y/N made their way through the grand halls of the Underworld, the weight of impending divine matters settling upon them. The anticipation of a summons from Zeus carried an air of both mystery and gravity.

The divine hall awaited, its doors opening to reveal Zeus on his throne, regarding them with a mixture of sternness and intrigue.

"Lord Hades, Lady Persephone," Zeus boomed, "You come at my request. There's a matter that requires your attention."

Approaching the throne, their expressions composed but curious, Harry inquired, "What matter brings us before you, Father?"

Zeus leaned forward. "Concerns have risen among the gods about the balance of power and the changing dynamics within the divine realm."

Y/N exchanged a puzzled look with Harry. "What do you mean, Father?"

Zeus sighed. "The union between the god of the Underworld and the goddess of spring has stirred discussions. Some are concerned about the potential shift in the cosmic balance."

Harry defended their union. "Our love brings harmony to our realms, Zeus. It does not disrupt the balance."

Zeus raised a hand. "I understand, but the concerns persist. To ease them, I propose a grand celebration—a gathering of gods and goddesses from all realms. A feast that will demonstrate the unity and stability of the divine order."

Harry realized the significance. "We shall host it in the Underworld, a testament to the enduring love that transcends realms."

Zeus approved. "May this celebration reaffirm the bonds that unite us all."

As the divine decree echoed, Harry and Y/N embraced the responsibility. The grand celebration would showcase not only divine unity but also the eternal reunion of Hades and Persephone.

The long table was adorned with decadent delicacies from all corners of the realm - ambrosia platters, pomegranate salads, and sinfully delicious desserts that would make even the gods drool. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and stories as loved ones reunited after what felt like an eternity apart.

Amidst this joyous gathering, Harry proudly introduced Y/N as his queen and partner in ruling over the Underworld. She charmed everyone with her warmth, grace, and genuine interest in their stories. Laughter echoed through the halls as they shared tales of adventure, love, and mischief.

As the night wore on, Harry and Y/N found solace in each other's presence, basking in the love of their family and friends. The Underworld was alive with happiness and contentment, for it was a reminder that true love could thrive even in the most unexpected places.

And so, as the stars twinkled above their kingdom and laughter filled the air, they embraced this precious moment of togetherness. Their reunion was not just a celebration of love but a testament to the power of connection and the beauty that can be found in even the darkest depths.

And then, as the feast reached its crescendo, Hades rose from his seat and raised a goblet to Persephone. The flickering torchlight cast shadows on the grand walls as Hades spoke, his words a heartfelt declaration.

"To Persephone, my queen, the light of the Underworld, and the love that has breathed life into the realm of shadows. May our days be filled with endless joy and our nights with eternal love."

The denizens of the Underworld echoed his sentiment with cheers, toasts, and a sense of jubilation that reverberated through the grand hall.

Persephone blushed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "To eternity and beyond," she said, clinking her goblet against Hades'.

After the feast, the grand hall echoed with soft footsteps as Harry and Y/N headed to the starlit garden. The celestial lights bathed the garden in a magical radiance as they stepped into the night.

Taking Y/N's hand, Harry led her into the open space beneath the twinkling stars. The night held a hushed beauty, and they danced to a celestial melody, a seamless harmony between the lord of the Underworld and the goddess of spring.

Standing at the center of the divine garden, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight and surrounded by fragrant blossoms, Harry and Y/N prepared to dance. The celestial lights above seemed to twinkle in anticipation, casting a gentle radiance on the couple as they took each other's hands.

Harry, with his customary charm, looked into Y/N's eyes and whispered, "May I have this dance, my love?"

Y/N's heart fluttered with love and adoration as she nodded, and they began their dance under the vast expanse of the starlit sky. The music of the night, a melodic symphony composed by nature itself, set the rhythm for their movements.

Harry guided Y/N with grace and tenderness, each step a declaration of the unconditional love that bound them together. The soft rustle of their clothes blended with the gentle night breeze, creating a harmonious melody that resonated with the heartbeat of the beautiful garden that bloomed with her magic.

"I've missed this," he confessed, the dance a gentle rhythm that echoed the beating of his heart.

"Me too, Harry," Persephone replied, her gaze locked with his. "There's something magical about dancing with you in the Underworld."

As they danced, Hades couldn't resist stealing kisses, each one a promise of the love that transcended the realms. The river Styx murmured its approval, and even the shadows seemed to sway in time with their movements.

"You know," Persephone said, her voice a soft whisper, "I wrote you letters while I was away. I wanted to capture every moment so I could share it with you when I returned."

Hades felt warmth in his chest at her words. "Letters? I would love to read them, my love."

Persephone blushed, a delightful contrast to the vibrant flowers in her hair. "They're not very poetic, just my ramblings and musings. But I poured my heart into them."

In that enchanted moment, Hades and Persephone were not the lord and goddess of the Underworld. They were two souls intertwined in a dance celebrating the eternal nature of their love. The grand feast had united the divine family, and now, beneath the cosmic lights, the couple celebrated the unity of their hearts.

They moved in sync, their dance the unspoken language of love. Harry's hand securely held Y/N's waist, drawing her close, while Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the comforting warmth of his embrace.

The garden itself seemed to respond to the dance of love. Blossoms unfurled in their wake, releasing bursts of vibrant colors that matched the emotions swirling between the couple. The gentle hum of nature's lullaby accompanied their every movement, creating an atmosphere of serenity and joy.

The dance continued a journey of shared dreams and whispered promises.

As the dance reached its crescendo, Harry held Y/N in a final, lingering twirl. They paused, caught in the embrace of the night, and shared a tender kiss beneath the celestial lights.

“I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much. “He whispered, and his face carried softness and love rarely seen on Lord of the Underworld. He was different when he was with her.

He was in love.

Y/N muttered the same, her lips ghosting over his once again. They softly brushed against each other, pecking every once in a while.

Hand in hand, they walked through the garden, leaving behind a trail of blossoms and the echo of their laughter.

Hand in hand, they ventured through the winding corridors of the Underworld. As they reached the Elysian Fields, the once desolate realm began to transform in Persephone's wake. Flowers bloomed beneath her feet, and the atmosphere blossomed with life.

"You've worked your magic again," Hades remarked, marveling at the vibrant beauty she brought to his kingdom.

Persephone grinned, her eyes sparkling. "I can't stand the idea of a lifeless Underworld. Besides, a little color never hurt anyone."

They found a secluded spot overlooking the river Styx, where Hades conjured a plush blanket for them to sit on. The soft glow of the river reflected in Persephone's eyes as they gazed at each other, a magnetic pull connecting their souls.

"Tell me everything about your time in the mortal realm," Harry urged.

"And you won't believe what Hermes did to entertain me," she laughed, recounting a particularly amusing anecdote that involved the mischievous messenger.

Hades chuckled, reveling in the sound of her laughter. "I'm starting to think Hermes enjoys causing chaos wherever he goes."

The moon rose higher in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the Underworld. Sensing the time was right; Hades took Persephone's hand, leading her into a slow dance beneath the celestial light.

Later, as they sat together on the blanket, Persephone retrieved a bundle of letters from her bag. Hades watched with eager anticipation as she handed them to him, each one filled with the essence of her experiences in the mortal realm.

For hours, they immersed themselves in Persephone's words, her descriptions painting vivid images of the world above. Hades listened intently, savoring every detail as if he were there with her. The letters became a bridge between their two worlds, connecting them even when miles apart.

As the night deepened, Hades couldn't help but express his feelings in the best way he knew how—through a poem, despite its potential lameness.

"In the depths of shadows, where silence holds sway,

A love blooms eternal, no darkness can betray.

Persephone, my light, in the mortal realm's embrace,

You brought back the sun, and with it, my grace."

Persephone's eyes sparkled with emotion. "Harry, that was beautiful. Lame, but beautiful. I love it."

Hades chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "I aim to impress with my poetic prowess."

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow over the Underworld. Hades and Persephone lingered in each other's arms, the world around them forgotten. It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together.

>>>

As soon as they were back to the castle, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Sure, they were divine beings above human urges, but they couldn't deny the magnetic pull that drew them together.

They entered Harry’s room, closing the heavy wooden door behind them. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of candles, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

Their lips were on each other, now kissing with more lust and desire. Harry had been pent-up ever since he’d had his head between her plush thighs, and her moans, her whimpers, and her ultimate release had almost made him burst in his pants.

But he had held off.

Even he doesn’t quite recall how he did it, perhaps some “celestial” power he didn’t know he had.

He began by untying the strings on her white corset, so many of them there were. She could see that he was getting restless, and she spoke up, “You know you can use your magic, right? Make them disappear in a click of your fingers?”

He chuckled, looking up at her while he continued the task in hand, “I sure can, my love. But I want to see the way your body reacts to my touch when I undress you. The way your cheeks becomes red as part by part, your beautiful body is exposed to me. The gasp you release when I unhook your bra, and the whimper that comes from your lips when I rub your pretty pussy over your wet panties, which I know they quite are. I want to see it all”

Y/N blushed, unable to keep eye-contact with the god in front of him.

Soon, the corset was undone, and Harry removed her long gown. He reached back, swiftly unhooking her bra, and throwing it behind him. His hands were on her breasts, and he groaned as he kneaded them in his hands.

“So long, darling. So long I have gone without your body” he bent down, rolling a nipple between his fingers before taking it into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, eliciting a whimper from her pretty mouth. He squeezed it in his palm, between his fingers, as he continued sucking on the hardened nub. His other hand trailed to her left breast, kneading it too while he rolled the nipple harshly between his fingers.

“Harry-it feels so good, fuck…” she cursed, pressing her thighs together as more and more arousal oozed out of her needy hole. She whimpered and moaned with need as he played with her breasts, alternating in kissing, sucking and biting them. He sucked a few bruises on them too, just around the areola, not too much in the areas where they could be seen by others.

Once he was satisfied with his work, pretty bruises that would turn purplish-red soon, he looked up at his love. Her head was thrown back, lips parted as she was getting wetter by each passing second.

Harry’s hands rested at her waist, and she opened her eyes, meeting his green ones.

He joined their lips again, and started to kitten lick and suck her tongue, while his eager hands explored her body. He drifted his hands to her damp centre, brushing his finger over the damp spot on her panties, just above her clit. She moaned into his mouth, and e swallowed it all up, before bringing his fingers to the waistband of her panties.

He broke the kiss, quickly dropping down to his knees before her. He pulled the ruined panties off her legs, unhooking them from her ankles and throwing them near the discarded bra.

She was now fully naked before him, and she wanted to hide herself. Given that he had already seen her a million times like this before, given their immortal nature, and yet, being this vulnerable made her shy.

She tries to close her legs before him, hide her pussy from his hungry eyes. He smiles, knowing that she must be feeling so shy, given how much time they had spent apart.

“It’s okay, love. I know it’s been a while, and you’d feel exposed being fully naked around me. But you don’t have to, love. Not from me. You never have to be nervous or shy around me. Naked or not, any way you are, you are absolutely ethereal. And divine”

She felt a sense of relief hearing those words. Being a goddess, she knew she was one of the most beautiful and stunning creatures to walk in the Underworld. Her ethereal form radiated a timeless beauty that transcended mortal comprehension. And she was the most confident when she was out in the world. Her words, her beauty, all were elements that captivated those fortunate enough to witness her presence. The ethereal glow surrounding her form seemed to dance in harmony with the confidence that emanated from within.

Yet, here she was, feeling exposed and shy in front of her own husband, who was on his knees in front of her, ready to worship her.

“And yet, if you don’t feel comfortable enough, dove, we don’t have to do this. It’s all right. We can-“ she stopped him mid-sentence.

“No, no-I-I want to, Harry, it’s just-the way you looked at me made me feel-like I’m not that beautiful as you tell me I am.”

“You are, my love. You are absolutely exquisite, my darling. And I’m going to show you just how damn breathtaking you look around my cock.”

“But-how?” she asked.

He smirked, before snapping his fingers. A long, floor length mirror appeared behind him,, making her look at her own reflection.

“But, Harry-“

“No questions, love. You had your fun throughout the day, now let me have mine”

He parted her legs, immediately attaching his mouth to her swollen clit. She released a moan, his mouth doing wonders between her legs.

He licked and sucked, and licked her pretty pussy till she was a moaning mess again, whimpering with her bottom lip between her teeth. Her cheeks were flushed red, eyes full of lust as she watched herself reach the high of pleasure.

Her chest had reddened, and eyes were hooded, threatening to fall shut with the sheer pleasure consuming her. Her hands were in his brown curls, pulling and pushing his head to her core at the same time, conflicted between the need to succumb to the upcoming pleasure or to pull away from it.

But, just as she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped. Pulled his mouth off of her, making her release a cry of need.

“Harry-I-I was so close-“

“I want you to come around my cock, darling. Want to see you fall apart as I fuck you”

He got up, knees wobbly. He started to undress himself, removing each piece of clothing while maintain eye contact with Y/N.

She was still coming down from the high he’d almost got her to, her breathing still rapid and ragged. Soon, he was naked in front of her, pushing her back on the bed on which she fell with a soft thud.

She sat up on her elbows, and he pulled her so she was sitting upright. He climbed on the bed behind her, and sat down.

With fingers still damp, he pushed her thighs apart wide, spreading his own as well and locking hers with his, so she couldn’t push them again.

She sighed as her pussy spread open, revealing her pretty hole to the gigantic mirror in front of them.

He took hold of her wrists, pinning them together behind her back.

“Keep ‘em there. Don’t move”

He warned.

And she knew better than to disobey him.

“Okay” a quite whisper, but he heard it well.

“Good girl”

Her pussy throbbed with need, her neglected clit swollen and red. He brought his hands to her thighs, lightly grazing them with his fingers. He rubbed his hands up and down, smoothing them up to the part where her centre meet her thighs, and retreating back, neglecting the place where she needed him the most.

“Harry-please” she begged, hoping he will give in and fuck her senseless.

“My rules tonight, darling” he answered simply, and she had no choice other than to sit pretty and take it.

His torture continued for quite a while, and she was so tired from his edging, her head resting limply on his shoulder. She would get excited whenever he would graze her clit, only to get disappointed immediately after.

When he decided that he had had enough, he finally gave in. She was so fucking wet already, soaking the satin sheets beneath them with the arousal that dripped down continuously. He brought two fingers to her entrance, gently pushing them in while he played with her perky nipples, twisting them while stuffing her full.

“Oh fuck, Har-“ she cursed, her walls immediately clamping down on his two fingers. She tried to move herself on him, grind on his fingers, but he held them apart nicely, stopping any movements.

“Feel good?” he asked, pinching her nipple as he stuffed his fingers fully in, gently flicking the tips inside her tight walls.

“Mhm, yes, feels good-fuck!” he pushed another finger in, thrusting them in and out at a godly speed. She scratched his chest, nails scraping down his abdomen. She was feeling so good again, ready to burst at any moment.

That’s when he stopped-again. Pulled his fingers out completely. And just as she was about to open her mouth and whine about it-he pushed them into her mouth.

She moaned around them, sucking and licking off her own sweet arousal. He groaned at this, feeling so impossibly hard that he thought he will burst again.

“That’s it-good girl” he pulled them out, wiping them on her stomach. She smirked, knowing how she had imagined it was his cock between her lips, and made him imagine the same too.

Her on her knees before him, his hands in her hair, gripping them harshly as she took him like a pro. All those filthy thoughts muddled his mind, and he couldn’t hold back longer.

He turned her around easily, pushing her back down so her back was on the mattress, and he climbed on top of her. His lips attached to her neck, licking and sucking as he spread her legs apart with his hand, positioning his cock just before her lips.

Parting them with his one hand, he released a sigh of relief as he pushed himself in, her warm walls feeling so heavenly around his cock. He had held off for so long, focusing on her pleasure more than his. But now, he was going to fuck her good, make her see stars as she came around her cock again and again.

She grabbed onto his shoulders, nails scratching their way down as she felt the initial burn of his cock stretching her wide open. She tried to keep her composure, but how good she, when it hurt so good and felt even better at the same time?

He gave her time to adjust to his length, not trying to overwhelm her with bottoming out immediately. Once she was, she gave him a quick nod to keep going.

That was all he needed, as he carefully pushed in to the hilt, bottoming out inside her as his balls slapped with her ass. She wrapped her legs around his slim waist as he grabbed her wrists, pulling them from his shoulder and pinning them above her head.

“Gonna fuck you real good today” he promised, snapping his hips against hers. His cock drive into her warn hole again and again, making her throw her head back with pleasure. He took this opportunity and kisses and nipped at her neck, her jaw slack with pleasure. The bed started to rock against the wall due to the force of his thrusts, her slick folds coating his cock with arousal every time he pushed in. She was impossibility wet, and on the verge of falling over the edge.

“Oh my god!” she whimpered out when he gave a particularly hard thrust, her legs shaking with pleasure. His hands wrapped around her neck, slightly putting pleasure as he forced her to open her eyes.

“Look at me when you cum” he said, and she immediately nodded, not wanting to risk any other orgasm because of disobedience.

But she was disappointed quickly as he pulled out again, leaving her on the edge. She had been so pent up. and now on the verge of crying.

He picked her up, turning her around to face the mirror, on her hands and knees. They were shaking profusely, so he had to slide an arm beneath to support her pliant body.

“Look at me when you cum. In the mirror” he grabbed her jaw and positioned her face so she was forced to loom at herself, her body succumbing to pleasure that he gave her.

Every push of his cock in her melted her further and further, breasts jiggling with the force of his harsh thrusts, again and again.

“Har-please” she pleaded, not being able to hold off for any longer.

“Yeah, baby? You want to come?” he asked.

She nodded, not being able to form any coherent sentence, she was about to fall over the edge, just needed that little push, just a little…

He seemed to have read her mind because as soon as she thought of that, his fingers were on her clit, harshly rubbing concentrated circles, enough to take her fall over the edge she was teetering on.

“Watch yourself. Look how pretty you look falling apart on m’ cock, darling” her eyes quickly drifted to the mirror in front, and indeed, he was correct.

Her cheeks were flushed red , her face glowing as she released warm puffs of air through her open mouth. He was filling her up so good, pressing against the soft, spongy spot deep inside of her that made her toes curl and eyes to roll into the back of her head.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, her moans and whimpers, and his grunts audible above them all. He gripped her hips harshly, nails digging in as he prepared to spill himself inside her.

“I'm close too…” he announced, and leaned in, wrapping his hand around her middle. He pulled her neck so that her back touched his clammy chest, the change in positioning giving him a deeper angle.

“Harry-Oh fuck!” she immediately gave in, her legs giving out beneath her as the waves of pleasure rolled through her body, blinding her vision and ringing her ears. His hand on her swollen clit was relentless, and so was his speed of fucking her through her orgasm.

“Harry-har-feels so fucking good, har” she stuttered, mouth open as she watched herself come undone on his cock. A warm glow enveloped her, and she looked absolutely breathtaking. But, her eyes were fixated on her Harry, who was just about to cum.

His eyes were closed shut, low grunts leaving his lips with each thrust as he gave in, and the first few drops of his release coated her walls.

“Fuck, baby. Making me feel-so-fucking-good, Fuck! His words were punctuated with thrusts to her cunt, spilling more and more of his milky cum with each push inside.

“Cum for me, Har-give me all you have” her soft voice egged him on, as her warm walls milked him for all he had. Once he was done, he gave her a final look in the mirror, before falling down on the bed, taking her with him.

In the hushed aftermath of their intimate celebration, Hades and Persephone lay entwined in the ethereal glow of their chamber. The flickering candlelight cast a warm hue over the room, a testament to the love that had just been shared. The echoes of their whispers lingered, blending with the quietude that enveloped the space.

Hades traced delicate patterns on Persephone's bare back, his touch a caress that spoke of both passion and tenderness. Her hair spilled like a cascade of midnight over the pillows, and the moonlight filtering through the window bathed them in a soft, celestial radiance.

The room seemed to respond to their connection, as if the very walls held the echoes of their shared love. The air shimmered with an otherworldly energy, and the shadows on the walls danced in tandem with the rhythm of their hearts.

As they lay there, the tapestry of their shared history unfolded in their minds—the challenges they had faced, the laughter they had shared, and the quiet moments that had solidified their bond. Hades couldn't help but marvel at the depth of emotion Persephone brought into his life—a depth that went beyond the confines of the Underworld and stretched into the boundless expanse of eternity.

Their connection, both physical and emotional, created a cocoon of intimacy that shielded them from the outside world. The grandeur of the Underworld, the echoes of the banquet, and the responsibilities of ruling—all faded into insignificance in the embrace of their private sanctuary.

As the night deepened, they spoke of dreams and aspirations, of the moments that had left an indelible mark on their souls and of the endless possibilities that awaited them in the expanse of eternity. The bedroom, once a quiet space, became a canvas for their shared reflections and whispered confessions.

In the quiet moments between their words, Hades couldn't help but be grateful for the cosmic tapestry that had woven their fates together. Persephone, once a fleeting vision in the mortal realm, had become the heartbeat of his existence—the one who brought warmth to the depths of the Underworld and a symphony of joy to his immortal heart.

And so, in the heart of the Underworld, where time moved in a rhythm known only to gods, Hades and Persephone continued their intimate celebration. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow a witness to the depth of their connection.

As the night wore on, they found solace in the quiet moments of shared laughter, whispered promises, and stolen kisses. The room became a haven, a sanctuary for the love that had endured through the ages. Their connection, both physical and emotional, became a testament to the enduring power of love in the face of eternity.

And as they drifted into the peaceful embrace of sleep, still entwined in each other's arms, the echoes of their shared celebration lingered in the air. The Underworld, once a realm of shadows, held within its depths a love story that unfolded in the quiet moments of the night—a love story destined to resonate through the corridors of eternity.

>>>

One day, as they stood on the shores of the Styx, Hades couldn't help but ponder the nature of their love. "Persephone, my queen, do you ever tire of the Underworld? Would you prefer a life in the mortal realm or on Mount Olympus?"

Persephone looked into his eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Harry, it's not about the realm we're in; it's about the love we share. Whether in the Underworld, the mortal realm, or the heavens above, as long as we are together, that's where I belong."

Hades felt a surge of gratitude and love for the woman standing beside him. "You truly are my light in the darkness, Persephone."

Their days were filled with laughter, shared adventures, and stolen moments of intimacy. Hades reveled in the simple pleasures of mortal-inspired picnics, where they lounged in the Fields of Asphodel, surrounded by the beauty Persephone had brought to his kingdom.

As the seasons changed, and the tapestry of time unfolded, Hades and Persephone's love deepened. They faced challenges together, weathered storms, and celebrated triumphs. The Underworld, once a place of solitude and shadows, became a canvas for their love story—a story that echoed through the corridors of eternity.

In the quietude of the Underworld, where the river Styx whispered ancient secrets, Hades and Persephone found a love that transcended the boundaries of the realms. And as they danced under the eternal moonlight, their hearts beat in harmony, creating a melody that echoed

Through the ages, their love story continued to unfold, a tale woven into the fabric of time itself. The Underworld bore witness to the eons that passed, yet Hades and Persephone remained a constant, their love enduring like the everlasting cycle of the seasons.

They explored the hidden realms of the Underworld, discovering forgotten chambers and secret passages. Hades showed Persephone the intricacies of his kingdom, the responsibilities and duties that came with ruling the dead. Yet, through it all, their love remained a guiding light, illuminating the darkest corners of the Underworld.

One day, as they stood on the precipice of the Abyss, where the echoes of lost souls reverberated, Hades spoke of his deepest fears and vulnerabilities. Persephone listened with compassion, her love a balm for the wounds that time had etched into his immortal heart.

"I never imagined I could share my burdens with another," Hades admitted, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the cavernous space. "But with you, Persephone, everything feels different. I am not alone."

Persephone took his hand, her touch comforting warmth. "We face the challenges together, Harry. Your burdens are mine, just as mine are yours. We are partners in this journey through eternity."

Their love became a beacon in the Underworld, a source of inspiration for lost souls seeking solace. Tales of Hades and Persephone's enduring love spread through the realm, offering hope to those who had long forgotten the warmth of companionship.

As the years unfolded, they witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations in the mortal realm. Hades and Persephone, however, remained unchanged, their love an eternal flame that defied the ravages of time. They watched as mortal heroes rose to greatness and tragic tales unfolded, the threads of destiny weaving a tapestry that stretched across the ages.

In the midst of it all, Hades and Persephone continued to find joy in the simple pleasures of life. They reveled in the beauty of the Underworld's landscapes, danced under the light of a thousand moons, and discovered hidden realms that held secrets untold. Their love was a journey, an exploration of the boundless possibilities that eternity offered.

Yet, even in the midst of their idyllic existence, challenges arose. Forces from the depths of the Underworld, ancient and formidable, sought to disrupt the delicate balance of their love. Hades and Persephone faced trials that tested the very foundation of their connection, but in each trial, their love emerged stronger, more resilient.

Together, they faced adversaries and overcame obstacles that threatened the harmony of the Underworld. Hades, once perceived as a fearsome deity, revealed the depth of his compassion and the strength of his love. Persephone, with her gentle yet unwavering spirit, became a beacon of hope for all who traversed the shadowy realms.

Their love story, once confined to the whispers of the Underworld, became a legend that transcended the boundaries of the mortal and immortal realms alike. Mortals sang songs of their enduring love, poets crafted verses in their honor, and artists immortalized their images on canvas.

As the centuries passed, the Underworld transformed into a realm of balance and harmony. The once desolate landscapes bloomed with vibrant flora, and the river Styx flowed with a gentle serenity. Hades and Persephone, hand in hand, continued to rule the Underworld with grace and wisdom, their love a testament to the eternal dance of life and death.

>>>

any feedback, like or reblog is always welcome!

okay-dokey! this was a request by @victoria-styles!

i hope you like it!

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moonyswritinq · 9 months ago

Text

runs in the family — platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gn reader

❝ RUNS IN THE FAMILY ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Edwin had been dead for decades and you had wandered the earth as a ghost in search for him. Who would have thought that you would find him in a small town in America, just strolling down the street?

PAIRING ➢ platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ mentions of death, kind of flirty reader, not much more warning needed than that, takes place end of chapter three, so spoilers?? not beta read

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.7 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ seeing as the reader is written as a sibling to Edwin it is implied they are biologically related and therefore caucasian. But since I have not specified anything the reader could just as well be adopted and of another ethnicity, so I leave it up to be your choice.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

It had been a hundred years.

A century had gone by since you died. And still you had not managed to finish your business in order to move on to the afterlife. How could you? When your older brother had mysteriously gone missing from his boarding school, simply presumed dead, and labeled as ‘an act of God’ and nothing else had happened. No one made inquiries. No one bothered to try to do him justice.

No one cared.

And it infuriated you. So much to the point of taking up the quest of finding him yourself. But no one knew anything, nor cared to tell you anything, so you were unable to find anything worthy of interest. Edwin simply did not matter to anyone besides you—even your parents were frustratingly unhelpful. It broke your heart. You didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t care about its people. Luckily, you didn’t have to for long.

It happened a year after you graduated from high school, making you three years older than the age Edwin had been when he disappeared. As soon as you’d completed school you had gotten out of your conservative town, opting to travel to London instead to settle down there. The aftermath of the war had just calmed down and you thought you could get a new start. You hadn’t entirely left the business of Edwin behind you, but knowing there was nothing more you could do for him settled your guilt slightly.

When you had finally started getting used to the idea of Edwin actually being gone and of the possibility of moving on with your life, you died. A simple case of wrong place, wrong time in a robbery. And you reckoned some part of you weren’t completely ready to let go of Edwin because you had woken up again, as a ghost.

It was strange at first, feeling nothing but still being there, invisible to everyone but yourself. And it hadn’t hurt much—you had died immediately.

What should have been a tragedy left you feeling nothing but relief. You were finally free from the world’s boundaries and rules and the idiotic people that wouldn’t help your brother. Then being able to travel anywhere you wanted, speak to other dead people, and uncover all the supernatural entities that had been hiding under your nose your whole living life was more than you could have wished for. Was it possible Edwin could also be somewhere? Wandering around as a ghost, the same as you?

The thought was too good to even hope to be true. As it turns out, it was.

You visited all the places Edwin had been or he had talked about going to or anywhere you could have imagined his ghost to have gone. But there were no signs of him—at least no signs that you could find. No one had any information about your brother. It almost left you feeling like how you had when you were alive. Your world had gone from the bright colours of hope back to the dull monochromaticity that your life had been.

For years you had wandered the planet, going from country to country, adapting to the changing years and humanity’s new technology. It interested you to figure out the new things that were invented and to keep up with the modern world—not to talk about all the different ghosts, people, and other supernatural beings you met. While it was nice to travel around without a clear goal, your mind was constantly stuck on the thought of your brother being alone somewhere.

You needn’t have worried though, you realised, when you had found yourself in the small town of Port Townshend, walking down the street and seeing a very familiar face. Right across the road, a figure clad in a brown coat was walking with an all too rigid posture and pursing his lips at the teenagers surrounding him. You were too stunned to speak, your tongue felt as if it were locked, unable to voice any of the jumble of thoughts currently bouncing through your mind.

“Edwin?” you croaked, voice strained as it fought against the constricting of your throat. You hurriedly ran to cross the road, narrowly missing a car. It wouldn’t have hurt, but habits die hard—even if it had been a hundred years since you were alive. And so you let out a loud curse, swivelling out of its path, “Oh, bloody hell!”

When you turned to continue to the other side of the street you already found a familiar pair of eyes locked onto yours. Edwin had stopped completely in his path and with his mouth agape, arms hanging by his side. You couldn’t fight the grin that made its way to your face and broke out in a run, crashing into his frame with a hug.

“Wha—” he stumbled, before embracing you back and nestling his face into your shoulder.

It felt as if he would never let you go by the grip he had on you—and you couldn’t blame him. It had been way too long since you had hugged him like this and you couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped you. It also felt weird hugging another ghost—it was like he was there and he wasn’t, but you could feel his presence in a way you couldn’t when you touched the living.

“It’s you,” you whispered, pulling away to grab him by the shoulders and really take him in. “It’s really you.”

Edwin looked just like you had remembered him to have looked when he disappeared. The same eyes, with which he always sent glares your way, and the same smile he hid in the corner of his lips by turning away from you, although it shone through at you then as a grin. He couldn’t help it, and neither could you.

“I—I never thought I would see you again,” he said.

You scoffed. “As if you could get rid of me that easily.” Then your eyes softened. “Though you scared me half to death.”

“More than half, it would seem,” he said, looking you up and down. “What are you still doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, a smile on your lips despite your soft tone. “You were my unfinished business.”

You went in for another hug with a chuckle, holding him even tighter as if he would disappear if you didn’t. All that worrying, all that searching, all that trouble you had gone through to find your brother and it was all finally worth it. The thought made you almost want to cry—almost. You pulled away then for real, letting the both of you go back to your regular composure as a relaxed grin settled against your lips and Edwin’s went back to hiding in the corner of his lips.

That was when you noticed the questioning stares from his three friends. They were all glancing back and forth between you in clear confusion.

“Sorry, did everyone just see what I saw?” questioned the dark-haired girl with a frown, gesturing between the two of you. “Who are you?”

You smiled at her. “Forgive me for being rude. I forgot myself for a second,” you said with a glance at Edwin. “I’m y/n, Edwin’s sibling.”

The three of them stared in astonishment upon hearing the words uttered, again looking between you two.

“I see the resemblance now that you mention it,” said the tall boy.

You shot him a playful smile. “I’m clearly the better sibling, though.”

“As if,” scoffed Edwin and tugged at his cuff. “At least I am older.”

You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips. “Don’t know if that is actually true, anymore. I was alive longer than you were.”

“What? No.” He looked affronted at your words. “My birth was before yours and I am thus older than you.”

The boy next to him cleared his throat with a pointed glance. Edwin resumed to his usual composure, a curtain falling over his features as his bickering spirit died out. You let out a snicker, glancing between the four of them.

“You gonna introduce me to your handsome friends, Edwin?” you asked with a grin, eyeing the tall boy specifically.

Edwin glared at you. “Don’t,” he spit out, warning lacing through his tone. When you held up your hands in surrender he turned to his friends, gesturing to them all in turn with their names. “Y/n, this is Charles, Niko and Crystal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Niko’s soft voice said, hopping forward to give you a hug.

It caught you slightly off guard, but it was welcomed even though you couldn’t feel it as well as you could feel Edwin’s ghost hug. Crystal gave you a hesitant hand to shake and you took it enthusiastically with a smile. She smiled then, apparently less apprehensive. Charles also thrust out a hand along with a charming smirk.

“Any sibling of Edwin must be brills,” he said. “Also a ghost, by the way.”

You took his hand with an appreciative nod. “Did you hear that, Edwin? I��m brills,” you said and looked over your shoulder.

By doing so, you didn’t miss the soft gaze Edwin was looking at Charles with and nodded to yourself, smiling coyly. While you had learnt to adapt to the modern times, and even back then had always been quite open about yourself, Edwin was a shyer and more private person. You would let him work it out by himself.

“You know, I missed your miserable face,” you remarked, turning to nudge him with your elbow. “I also think we have a lot to catch up on, Edwin.”

“I would say that is quite correct. We will take care of that, later,” he nodded in his stilted way. Weird as it was, you had missed his gestures.

When the four of them turned to keep walking, Niko suddenly let out a loud gasp. “There’s Monty, our new friend,” she exclaimed.

You turned to look where she was gesturing and saw a very handsome boy looking up when hearing his name. He smiled easily at the five of you and stood up from the bench he had been sitting on with a few books in hand. The boy, Monty, let out what sounded like a nervous chuckle while glancing between the group, definitely noting the closeness between you and Edwin.

“Hey. Wow, quite the crew you got here.”

“So, he’s alive and he can see the boys?” asked Crystal.

“Oh, he can definitely see Edwin,” replied Niko. You saw Monty smile at Edwin and turned to your brother with a questioning glance. He only shrugged.

When you turned back, you found Monty was already staring at you. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, jumping from your face to your clothes and your boots and your frame and your hair and your smirk—which spread even wider. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he took in the sight of you. You could feel your lifeless cheeks warm with blood—if they could do that—and let your gaze skirt away nervously.

“Oh, hi, I, uh, don’t believe I have seen you before.” Monty smiled sheepishly at you and his voice was warm and sweet. “I feel, uh, like I would have remembered a face like yours.”

His face got redder the longer he talked and the more he tripped over his words. It was weirdly endearing and you smiled at him as his gaze jumped between you and Edwin.

“Edwin’s my brother,” you said. “I’m y/n. Also a ghost.”

“Charmed.” Monty’s grin grew wider. “I suppose good looks run in the family.”

You saw Edwin shift uneasily out of the corner of your eye and smiled at him. Monty’s unashamedly flirting was clearly not something Edwin was entirely ready for yet, but it only made the whole thing more amusing. And you couldn’t ignore the playful smirk Monty was giving you nor the glint in his eye.

“And I’m Charles. Nice to meet you, mate,” interrupted the other ghost, his own charming smile fixed on his lips, and extended a hand for Monty to take. “Any pal of Edwin’s is aces in my book.”

Monty’s lips pursed. “Yeah, sorry, hands are full,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and stand-offish.

He moved past you, closer to Edwin, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you. You smiled to yourself as you turned to the other three, looking back at Monty.

“I was polite, wasn’t I?” asked Charles. His voice sounded much smaller, almost insecure.

“Yeah, you did good,” replied Crystal and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leant closer to him. “Don’t take it personal just ‘cause you aren’t pretty enough to earn Monty’s kindness.”

Charles turned to you, affronted, and glared at your cheeky smile. “Oi, hurtful. I’m very pretty, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, glancing up at him. “And don’t you worry, Edwin knows it too.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You only shrugged, glancing back at your brother and Monty. You saw Edwin take the book from him, completely oblivious to the way his gaze was fixed on him, and Niko was unashamedly listening in on their conversation. You took the opportunity to study Monty’s feature’s more carefully, gazing at the ways his lips lifted ever so slightly, and how his eyes suddenly jumped to yours. Immediately, you looked away in shame at being caught staring at him and you were sure to be blushing if you were still capable of it. When you dared look back at him his eyes were yet again on Edwin, but his smirk a bit wider.

“Hey.” You looked to Charles again, nudging him in the side. “If Edwin doesn’t know, though, at least I do.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his grin widen as his eyes fixed on you. That was when Edwin glanced past Monty, meeting your eye briefly before flickering over to Charles. You noticed him hesitate in his reply to Monty and furrowed your brows. It wasn’t like your brother to be careful about his words. Crystal seemed to know what he was thinking as she suddenly brought her hands together.

“Ah, well,” she began, sighing with what sounded like very bad conviction, ”Axe-murder, suicide Groundhog Day drained me, so, uh… I’m gonna head up.”

You shot her a questioning glance but decided against asking her about it. Whatever Edwin and his group had been up to you had more than enough time to figure out. Now that you had found him, there was no chance you were letting him go.

Niko nodded at Crystal’s words, still caught up with whatever Edwin and Monty were speaking about. “Okay, I’ll be up soon,” she said.

Crystal sighed and went over to the other girl, taking ahold of her arm and dragging her away from the boys. You shot a questioning glance at Edwin, but he just nodded for you to go without him. Briefly, you met Monty’s gaze as well and were almost pinned to the spot by his smile before he turned back to your brother. You swallowed and made to walk away when you noticed Charles was still stuck to the same spot, his gaze pinned to Edwin.

“Come on, mate, let’s go.”

He scoffed but let himself be guided away to follow the other two. You heard the traces of Edwin and Monty’s conversation follow behind you, their voices floating through the air. Monty’s was melodic and it made you sigh at the sound of it.

“He’s very cute, isn’t he?” you asked Charles, nudging his side with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

You weren’t sure you were talking about the same person.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear

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zeltqz · 2 years ago

Note

the ask was for a sanzu x fem reader nsfw and they’re both getting high together in the car and they do the thing where they bloke smoke in each other’s most and one things leads to another. But I thought it would be funny of on the middle of their sesh, ran calls and idk you could decide if he answers or not. Lol

— mile high club

ø contents: smoking, smut, possessiveness, fluff, takeomi slander ish bc i hate the mf, friends to lovers, mutual oblivious pining, akashi brothers' mentioned beefing

o word count : 7.1k.

ø notes: is it even a sanzu fic if i dont include some sort of tension and psychological explanation to do with the neglect he faced from Takeomi? no? ok anyway...

@wenumsmol 🫶🏾

The sun sets over the streets of Tokyo when you park the car in the garage of the Akashi household, having dropped Haru off at home since you’re now his designated driver because his license got suspended for reckless driving.

“We’re here.” The car shuts off when you turn the key, both hands resting on the wheel like the professional, respectable driver you are. “Now get out of my car.”

Sanzu groans from the backseat, laying flat on his back, hand splayed over his forehead, the cold heat from his hands doing wonders to soothe his burning headache.

“Oi.” Over your shoulder, you peek at him, fighting the urge to poke him awake. “I said we’re here.”

“I know.”

“ So…get out?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t—” You bite your words, stopping yourself to give yourself time to take a deep breath, soothing your bubbling frustration before it erupts. “You don’t want to enter your own house?”

He raises a long, slender finger, pointing insistently out the window. You follow his gaze to the back corner of the garage, Takeomi’s bike perched on its stand.

“Ohhh,” you realise, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn and face him fully. “Well..you can’t avoid him forever.”

He removes his hand from his forehead, eyebrows knitted, forehead creased as he glares at you. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, Haru.”

“So am I.” He’s sitting up, face stern and serious, you swear his green eyes practically glow in the dark as they catch the edge of the yellow tint garage light.

When it comes to Takeomi, Haruchiyo mainly plans on avoiding him at all costs, dodging him around the house, wearing headphones at full volume just to drown out the sound of his brother’s voice, not coming back home for days on end, rather spending the night at yours or Mikey’s house.

He’s developed different coping mechanisms : talking to Mikey is a big help, though Mikey isn’t one for therapeutic advice, he’s still willing to lend a helping ear and listen to Haruchiyo rant on and on. It’s not much help though, only hearing responses like ‘ hm ’ , ‘ oh ’, and ‘ah’, maybe if Mikey has a little energy left in him, he’d nod occasionally, but that’s about as much help as you’d get.

His second coping mechanism is you, someone he’d befriended a couple months back and kept you by his side secretly ever since, using you as a personal chauffeur and a therapist, but more importantly a best friend. Someone who’d be there for him without judging him and his dirty secrets; someone who likes to be around him not because they’re scared or intimidated, but because they enjoy his presence.

He cannot be in the right state of mind when talking to his brother, not wanting to remember their interactions in the morning, so he relies on getting stoned or drunk to wipe his memory. It’s a potentially dangerous mechanism, but Sanzu enjoys the adrealine rush of trying something new, enjoys the out of body experiences, the fuzzy feelings, the wild imaginations and visions that make his world look colourful rather than monochromatic.

“Haru.” You call his name with that sweet voice of yours, one that makes his heart warm. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m always gonna be here for you.”

He’s looking down at his lap, mouth twisted in a way he always does when he’s deep in thought. You can’t help but wonder just what’s going through that brain of his, knowing fully that up there is a mess of unorganised feelings and emotions he’d never been able to fully process.

“Haru. Is everything oka—”

“You know what I want?” He cuts you off, changing topics with a bright smile.

His decision to switch topics isn’t something that offends you, knowing that he takes time to fully open up and you’re willing to wait as long as he needs. “What do you want, Haru?”

“I want weed.”

“There’s no weed, wait. What are you doin—” He moves quickly, his lean body brushing past yours, balancing a hand on your lap for leverage as he reaches inside the glove compartment pulling out his stash. “What the hell! You stashed your crap in my car?!”

“Of course I did.” He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your face, moving to the backseat. “Where else would I put it?”

“Uh—I don’t know? Your room? Anywhere but my damn car! I got pulled over the other day. What if I had gotten caught and they searched my car?”

“Did you?” He shrugs half heartedly, opening the ziplock bag. Almost instantly the car smells of marijuana, your nose wrinkles as you try to process it.

“Well, no…but that’s not the point!”

“Shhhh,” he shushes you, taking his time to roll his blunt, all the while you’re glaring at him. “Stop pouting. You should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“This.” He licks the joint to seal it, lifting it towards you like it’s his artistic masterpiece. The smile on his face screams child proud of their school project, diamond scars stretching cutely as his smile only widens. “It’s strong. Try it.”

“It better be.” You snatch it from his hands, holding it between your teeth as you manouevr yourself to the backseat to seat beside him.

His chin is heavy on your shoulder as he watches you light it, wanting to be as close to you as possible not only to get a whiff of that perfume he loves that you practically drown yourself in, but to see your initial reaction to the weed.

The smoke burns your throat before you could fully inhale, coughing violently whilst pounding on your chest to ease it. Haruchiyo grabs water from the front, tossing it to your lap as you erupt in a series of coughs. “What is that?”

“I dunno.” He eyes the joint between his two fingers, looking oddly fascinated by it. “I just heard it was strong.”

“No shit.” It hurts when you talk, still feeling the ghost of smoke searing your oesphagus.

His spare hand hooks onto your legs, and you yelp as he swings them over on his lap, slender fingers rubbing up and down your thigh as he smokes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna.” You shift upwards on the seats, sitting on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to rest your forehead against the side of his face and shoulder. The scent of his cologne is overpowered by the marjiuana, but it’s still visible, dipping your face between his neckline and sighing. “This one is too much.”

“Are my eyes red?” His jaw moves when he speaks, and it tickles as his smooth skin brushes against your cheek.

It pains you to move from your current position, his warmth and scent are soothing to you, but you shift back, turning the car lights on to see better. The corners of his eyes are red, and he’s struggling to keep them fully open.

“Yeah, they are.” The urge to brush his cheeks is tempting, and your fingers twitch and hesitate by your side.

“Hey hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?” When you nod, he shifts upwards, his hand grabbing to hold onto your waist to ground you before you slip off his lap.

The sudden contact had you stiffening, blood roaring in your ears as his strong hand held your side. You watch him perform a trick, his diaphragm contracting as he inhales, lips pursed as he exhales, several rings of smoke following suit. Your brows raise in surprise, ready to praise him when he sucks it all back in with one huge breath, the rings dismantling in the air.

He turns back to look at you, chin high in the air, eyes tinted red gleaming as he grins at you, cheerful and animated. You can’t help it, reaching out to cup his soft cheeks with one hand, tracing over the outline of his lips, the shape of his scars with your thumb.

It’s like he’s frozen stiff as your fingers feel up his face, and he blinks at you as you look at him with those soft eyes of yours. “You’re so cute, Haru.”

His eyes dilate; from the light in the car, or the strong weed you don’t know, can’t tell. What you can tell is that from his silence, his mind is running wild, thoughts bouncing across his brain from left to right, mirroring the way his eyes dart over your face, your lips, and the curve of your nose.

“So are you.” The words spill out from his lips faster than the blush creeps onto his cheeks. He looks away, embarrassed, clearing his throat before smoking from the joint again. “I learnt it from Ran. That useless lazy fucker is sometimes helpful.”

“Ran, huh?” Your fingers find themselves latched to the front strands of his hair tucked into a ponytail, twirling it on your fingertips. “He’s the tall one, right?”

He chuckles, short and amused, voice muffled from the joint between his lips. “All my friends are tall, ya know?”

“Well maybe if you let me around your friends, I’d be able to identify them.”

“You’ll live without ‘em,” he says, blowing smoke in your face, snorting when you cough and swat the smoke away, then try to hit the side of his face, only for him to catch your hand in time. “Your reflexes suck ass.”

You struggle to shift your hand from his grip, frowning at him. “I’m not a ninja.”

“I can teach you to be one.”

“You a sensei, now?”

“I’m anything and everything. Like Batman.”

He smiles when you laugh softly, the sound making him feel lightheaded, paired along with the weed flowing through his veins. “Batman is rich, though. You’re not.”

“I can steal money, all is good.” His hand, warm and hot, slides under the hem of your shirt, leaving a searing trail behind his movements that burns into your skin. “I’ll buy you anything once I get rich. Promise.”

He’s been subtly leaning closer as he speaks the whole time, but you don’t notice until his forehead brushes yours and you’re both staring at each other, daring the other to move closer. “ Anything? ”

Green eyes fall down to your lips, not even trying to look subtle. “Anything.”

Fuck, at this angle you look so pretty, staring down at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He always feels like that around you, another reason why he loves getting high around you. It forces him to be vulnerable around you, letting the feelings he’s been shovelling down refsurface.

Though it’s risky, and there’s nothing more he fears than rejection, he’s always been a risk taker. You make him feel good with your words, your presence, your voice, the silly moments you two share alone in his car, your room, his room.

Your lips are what he favours the most on your face, always glossy with whatever flavour lipbalm you wear that day, and he physically fights the urge to kiss them just to guess it. His eyes are drawn towards your lips like a magnet. The way you bite at them when you’re focused, chew on the skin when you’re nervous, lick them when they’re dry, he notices, and wonders how soft they truly are.

“Do…do you wanna kiss me?” Your question catches him off guard, brows knitting in confusion as he wonders if he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud this entire time, but in truth, he’s been making his intentions obvious as he’s been staring at nothing but your lips the entire time.

“Huh? Don’t be weird.” He instantly facepalms himself mentally, fighting the urge to turn back time to take back his words, but it’s too late when your brows rise, lips parting slightly in surprise before looking down at your lap with a slight frown.

“Oh, sorry. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” His heart stings in his chest, he can feel it clenching painfully leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in the depths of his stomach when he realises you’re upset. “Why’d you ask that anyway?”

Maybe he can shift the narrative, find out a way to spin the conversation back to kissing. He still has a chance. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

“I have!” The pout is back on your face, but not from being sad; he can tell the difference, so he sighs in relief. But still…the way your lower lip juts out slightly has him fighting the urge to tug and bite at it. “I’m not a virgin, idiot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face, and you notice. “What? It’s that hard to believe someone would fuck me? Am I that ugly or something?”

The effects of the weed start kicking in, now you feel yourself getting emotional over nothing.

“I never even said anything.”

“You didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Haru.”

He flexes his jaw as he glares at you, trying to shovel his anger down. The argument is pointless, so he stays silent, bringing the blunt back to his lips. He inhales it for longer this time, and it can’t possibly be healthy for his lungs, but he doesn’t care.

“What time is it?” you ask, and his hand squeezes your waist tighter, stopping you from squirming from his lap.

“Why do you need the time?”

“Because I gotta get going at seven.”

“...why ?”

“Because…” you chirp, shifting to face him with a huge smile on your face, “I’ve got a date.”

When you bite down on your lip, he can’t even be bothered to look down at it, or notice it. It’s silent in the car as you wait for Haru to be your best friend/wingman that hypes you, ask you for his name, height, age, job, personality, whatever. But he’s silent, face unreadable, and the tension in the car rises thick when he continues to stay silent; your excitement fades along with your smile.

He knows he’s been silent for too long, now everything is awkward, but he can’t find the right words to say. Congratulations? It’s just a date, what do you expect him to do? Find you wedding rings?

His brain isn’t co-operating either, not in the right state of mind to process his words like a filter, so he says nothing before he says something he’ll regret.

“...Anyway,” you have to choke your words out, refusing to show your slight embarrassment, “hurry up and get high, so I can leave and get laid.”

“I am high.”

“Then I can leave.”

“No, you can’t.” He glares back when you glare at him, but he can’t find it in himself to control himself any longer. Maybe it was a bad idea to get high in a confided space with you, on his lap, with your face so close to his.

“Why can’t I?”

“...’cause he’s a loser, and you don’t wanna get laid by a loser.”

You snort. “He’s the only loser available, so maybe I do want to.”

“What if…there’s another loser available?” He goes stiff and still when your eyes flick up to his face, looking concentrated at him eye to eye as if you were trying to decipher his words. “Me. I’m the loser.”

“You?” He simply nods and you do the opposite and shake your head. “You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I am.” You shift on his lap when he shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest, and you watch as smoke leaves his lips as he exhales.

His senses are intensified with the drugs, your fingers tickling their way up his shoulders, along his neck, to behind his head, lacing them between his soft hair. Leaning down, you hold his face in your hands and kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, he feels like the world paused, and he’s dying to find whoever has control over the remote of his life so they could press play and he could embrace you like he deserves. Or, maybe he’s dying, and whoever is up there allows him to imagine just one night with you before he fades into nothing.

It’s real, all real. The tender slide of your lips against his are real, the sensation of his teeth sinking into your soft plump lips, biting, and nibbling at it is real, the gentle moans he eagerly draws from your lips when his tongue swipes against yours, wet, messy and sloppy is real.

“Fuck—” you whisper along the swell of his lips, pulling away to examine his face.

He looks gone, shallow half-lidded eyes looking up at you with blown wide pupils, mouth half open as if he’s forgotten how to close it.

“Haru, you there?” Your knuckle traces along the side of his face, stopping under his chin, lifting it to look up at you.

“Yeah yeah, ‘m here.”

Your giggle echoes in his ears, and he’s never been harder in his life, cock pressing uncomfortably tight against his pants. “Good, because you look wasted right now.”

“Just, fuck— stop talkin’. C’mere.” He pulls you down for a kiss with a hand at the back of your head, sloppily working his mouth against yours. He tastes like weed, the smell strong but it doesn’t stop you from licking into his mouth, desperate to drive the strong taste away and replace it.

Big, strong hands wander the length of your back, slipping under your shirt, cold hands hugging you tight, tight to his body that you can’t help but arch into him.

A sound that comes from the inside of the house has you pulling away, turning to face the window, and he trails his lips down the length of your neck. His nose pokes into the flesh of your neck as he sucks deep, red hickeys onto the plane of your neck, breathing heavily as he savours the feeling of your soft feeling of your skin.

He could get used to this; the weed makes him feel like your skin is ten times softer, or maybe that’s how it generally feels and you’re just perfect, so soft everywhere.

“Tak—take this off.” The words are lost to your neck as he sucks along the column of your throat, rogue hands wandering along your chest, up your shirt, kneading your tits through your bra.

“Okay, okay, wait —” When you pull backwards, he follows, leaning up from the seat, lips attached to your neck by the hip. “Haru. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to let me remove my clothes.”

“Just…wait a min’ longer…” He sucks harder, and you shudder as shivers race down your body at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at the sensitive part of your neck. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You look so sexy like this, fuck.” He’s tugging your shirt off, throwing it behind you, uncaring of where it lands.

Warm hands roam your stomach, your sides, sliding up further to wrap around your throat. “So beautiful ‘n sexy, just for me.”

“You already said sexy.” He hums absentmindedly, obviously not paying attention if the way he’s squeezing the fat of your breasts were any indication.

“You’re sexy times two.” He grins up at you before pulling your bra cup down, and you inhale sharply when it brushes down your nipple. “No, no actually. Times infinity.”

You flush hot at his words, especially when his lips brush against your ears, biting down against the shell. He’s sweating from the heat in the car plus the heat from both your panting bodies.

“Don’t you think we should—ah fuck—” He tugs you upwards on his lap, your clothed cunt grinding against his hard cock, hands curling into fists behind his neck.

“We should what?” His musical chuckle vibrates along your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine, forcing you to arch to chase the feeling away. You squeal when he bites down along your ear once more, smirkingpleasantly at the soft, squishy press of your tits against his chest.

“We should go to your room. I mean there’s not much room in here.” Your neck aches from the angle you’re sitting at, neck bent at an awkward angle to avoid hitting the roof of the car.

There’s not enough space in this crammed car to fit yourself comfortably. Haru, on the other hand, is more than comfortable, seated on the seats like a king that’s blessed the majestic view of your half naked body atop of his.

“I got an idea,” he says, not giving you a moment to wonder what he’s thinking before he’s lifting you from his lap, plopping you onto the seats. Your forearm darts quickly to cover your chest when he pops the car door open, lips pressed together tightly as he walks to the front seat, yanks the door open without a care and readjusts the seats back, pushing it till there’s enough room between the wheel. “This space big enough for ya?”

You tilt your head past the seat, surveying the space with a keen eye. There’s enough room for you to kneel down and take his cock in your mouth without a fuss or a struggle. A bed sounds nicer though, the thought of sinking into his soft mattress as he fucks you crosses your mind, but it’s overpowered when you remember his siblings are home and you’d rather die than let them hear you.

“Seems good,” you shrug, sliding quickly out the car; the cold air from the garage AC hits you smack in the chest, hardening your nipples momentarily.

“Ah, ah wait.” Haru pulls you back before you could climb on top of him. The cute way your tilt your head at him, confused, makes his heart do a triple beat for a moment. “I wanna try somethin’.”

“Okay…”

It’s stressful the way he’s manouevring you along the seat, pressing your back into the front seat as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.”

You swallow hard, unable to taste your saliva with how fast your nerves are racing. Doing as he said, you bring your hands under your thighs, holding them up as he tugs your pants down, struggling to get them past your bent knees, glaring at you when you choke on your laugh, muttering out a quick apology.

“Don’t apologise now. You’ll be beggin’ for it later, trust me.”

His confidence is over the roof right now, evident in his strong posture, shoulders back as he leans forward, swiping a finger along your folds with ease.

“You’re really wet.” Your slick catches on the tip of his finger, and you want to hide your face between your hands when his pink tongue darts out to lick at it.

“Could you maybe not do that? It’s awkward…”

He hums when he looks at you; now it’s his turn to tilt his head at you. “How else am I supposed to eat you out then?” His hands press themselves between yours under your thighs, and your back aches from almost sliding down the seat in this awkward position. “You want me to skip the prep? Fuck you into the seat right now?”

“I mean—” It sounds like a good idea, but then you remember the length and thickness of his cock through his pants and swallow excessively. “Prep please.”

He smiles at you, the car light reflecting off the side of his face as he dips his face closer, digging his fingers into the swell of your thighs, nose pressed against your folds and sniffs so hard it’s like a vacuum, your clit tingles with the need to have his tongue in you.

“This gonna sound so weird, but I really don’t give a fuck but…” he moans as he licks along your slit, a long, wet stripe from the bottom to the top, “you taste so good, fuck—”

“Haru stop…” He seals his lips around your clit, fingernails digging into your thighs as he sucks hard, numbing your clit with the continous flicks of his tongue moving at rapid speed. “Oh my go—”

Your hands fight the urge to fly to his hair, pull him closer to grind his nose against your stubborn clit, but you remember his instructions, to keep your hands on your thighs, keep you spread open for him.

He’s devouring your pussy like a starved individual, flicking his tongue rapidly, slurping the wetness that drips from your puffy folds. You try to close your legs, try to squirm away from the ticklish feeling of his wet tongue trying to squeeze its way through your cunt, but it’s intoxicating, and overwhelming, especially when his finger tickles against your hole.

It’s fascinating watching it go in and out, and Haru dreads pulling his mouth away from your cunt but he needs to watch your face as his finger slides knuckle deep inside you. His bloodshot eyes twinkle as he watches your slick coat the length of his finger, translucent liquid dripping down his knuckles to the seat.

“You always get this wet?”

“I don’t know…” It’s not often you finger yourself, so the experience is first hand. You’re also partially amazed that your body managed to produce this much slick from a single finger. “Wait, wait, right there. That feels so good—”

��Here?” His finger curls inside you, itching the side of that spongy spot.

“No, no—not there, wait—” Your hips shift to the side a little, then it’s like something switches inside you, hands shaking against your thighs as he spreads you out with a second finger, applying pressure to that spot that has your moans increasing in pitch.

His cock twitches with the need to replace his fingers, sink himself deep inside you, watch your eyes cross as you melt in pleasure. He leans forward, slurping, sucking along the sensitive hood of your clit.

Your body feels numb, voice coming out as breathy pants as you tilt your head back to hit the headrest, giving into the warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside your abdomdem as he fingers you to your climax.

He knows that you're close when your walls cling and squeeze his fingers tight, barely giving him enough room to move them. His own tongue slithers through your folds, lapping up the leftover slick. The taste of you is better than he’d expected, and he thinks he could live between your legs for the rest of his life.

There’s a swell of pride swirling through his chest when he feels you lose yourself on his fingers and tongue, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip painfully as you jolt and sit up from the effects of your orgasm. Your hands forget holding your thighs up, gripping onto his hair tied up loosely in a ponytail and tug him forward, craving the warmth of his mouth sealed around your clit as your world comes tumbling down.

It takes a couple moments for you to get yourself together, still holding painfully onto his hair before letting go. He presses ticklish kisses along your thighs, licking at the wetness spread along them.

“That was—” You swallow, trying to find the words since your brain isn’t co-operating. “That was so good.”

You look all cute when flustered, face heated and flushed, your pretty lips left open as you pant heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Think I found my new addiction.” He grins up at you, big hands squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kneels up between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and leans in for a kiss.

Your hands cup his cheeks, holding him close to you as he licks into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, giving you a moment to gather your nerves because you’re going to need it.

“I’m ready,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling the shiver that races down his spine.

“Bet, okay. Hold on.” He draws back, big hands spreading your thighs apart.

You look at him through your lashes as he sheds his shirt, tossing it behind you. His body is lean, capacious, abs faint but visible and your mouth waters, hand flying out to run down his stomach. Your touch is so light, his muscles flinching away from the ticklish feeling. Everything you do to him makes him feel so good.

He grips both your hands, pinning them above the headrest. “Keep ‘em there,” he says, unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. He grabs a condom from his back pocket, ignoring your humourless stare.

“You planned this?” You gesture at the condoms with your head.

“Better be safe than sorry.” He bites the end of the wrapper, pulling the condom out, rolling it slowly down his shaft.

Your eyeroll is cut short when the tip of his cock angles itself at your entrance. He can see the way you’re dripping, the slick smeared along your thighs.

Warmth engulfs the head of his cock as he slowly pushes it in you, and he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from thinking how good you feel, how tight you’re going to squeeze his cock, how he’s going to cum inside you—

You’re panting, the tip of his cock stretching you out, almost screaming when it pushes past, the thick head making you dizzy it carves a path inside you. “Ah, Haru that—” He pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him.

Haru swears, gripping onto the base of his cock, squeezing it to stop himself from cumming too quickly, pushing through the urge to shove the rest of his length inside you. He stills halfway, needing to take a moment to compose himself, his mind fuzzy and warm, and he feels lightheaded.

He has to close his eyes, knowing if he looks down, seeing his cock between your legs, halfway inside you, he’d cum in an instant.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to wait—I can take it,” you pant, hips desperately trying to rut forward. “Please…”

He takes a moment to swallow, groaning lowly, as he pushes the rest of his cock inside you, trying to ignore the tight suction of your walls. The moment he bottoms out, he’s falling forward, dipping his face between your neck and shoulder and moans, the sound desperate and needy, causing your pussy to clench and quiver around him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his head as you hold him closely, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling your shoulders. “You okay?”

It’s funny how you’re asking him this instead of the other way round, and a part of you feels pride in the fact you could make someone this desperate and needy without effort.

“I’m good…it’s just…fuck , you’re so tight.” He forces himself to inhale deeply, eyes squeezing shut painfully to compose himself. He shivers at the feeling of your nails raking up and down his hair, scratching at his scalp addictvely. “You’re good though, right? It doesn’t hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. “Nah. The seats a little uncomfortable but…that’s about it. You can move, Haru.”

“It’s uncomfy? Oh…” You almost want to cry when he pulls out, but he’s lifting you from the seat, switching your positions, slotting you back down on his lap.

“You want me to ride you?”

He nods, biting his lip when you grab onto his cock, seating yourself down on his cock.

“Oh my god—” You feel so full, his thick cock stretches your walls, whimpering beside his ear when he rolls his hips sensually, pressing his cock deeper inside you.

“ Holy shit , you’re so tight.” Your pussy drives him into a frenzy, eyes threatening to roll back at the way your cunt squeezes him so tight, clinging to every inch of him.

He swears, voice low, sounding wrecked as you begin riding him a little faster, slowly lifting your hips up and down. The obscene squelch of your pussy grasping pathetically around his thick shaft has him biting his lip so hard he might draw blood.

“ Haru.” You wail his name, collapsing onto his chest, shuddering when his hands, rough and warm, grab onto your hips to slow your pace down.

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Lemme move—” You trail your lips down his neck in an attempt to soften him, waiting for him to let go of you so you can move faster. There’s a nudging spot inside you, an itch that needs to be scratched. Your attempt to move is shut down again, frustration building up and up the longer you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Haru please…”

“If I let go, you gotta promise to take it slow.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” You whisper along his lips, tugging at it with your teeth. He groans into your mouth, and shifts for a moment, his cock follows suit, twitching desperately for some friction. “Wait, do that again.”

“This?” He rolls his hips upwards, rolls your hips backwards and forwards, and you drip a little wetter down his leg, wetting his thighs.

“Yes. Do it again.”

He starts a steady pace, steady enough for you to feel the way he’s deliberately aiming at that spot in you that makes you squirm around.

“I’m so close.” He says beside your ear, his voice lingering in your head, clouded by the feeling of his hands roaming your back, scratching at it with every bounce you give him.

“Me…me too.”

He’s tense, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. You shift backwards, unslinking your hands from around his neck to grab at his knees, using them as leverage to support yourself as you roll your hips in circles.

He can feel the energy buzzing between you both, can feel the tingling sensation on the edge of his fingertips, the drugs running through his veins has the regular feeling of sex intensifieid, and he swears he can feel every inch of you.

Everything is so hot right now, the temperature in the car, the feel of your hands braced against his knees, the way your nails dig into the bone, the way your tits bounce in his face as you fuck yourself on his cock.

You clench when you cum, and he leans forward suddenly, grabbing your hips to lift you up, slamming you back down with a loud moan, hips jerking as he cums inside you.

You’re shaking, trembling at the feeling of his cum spurting inside you, the wet sensation is ticklish, cold shivers running down your spine.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles again, holding you down to feel your greedy walls sucking him in further. “Holy fuck, I could stay here forever.”

“I need a shower.” You say once you come back to your senses, groaning softly when you lift yourself up and off his cock, the wet squelch following after echoes throughout the car.

“That’s so hot.” He mutters, eyes wide with fascincation as he reaches out to thumb at your clit, enjoying the way you shiver and let out a soft moan as he rubs it in circles. “Holy shit that’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

“I kno—” It’s distracting when you can feel his cum dripping out from you slowly making you lose your train of thought , the drip of it is anticipating until it forms a small pool between both of your bodies. “I know.”

“You hesitated.”

“I didn’t.”

He removes his thumb, wiping the wetness from it along his tongue, tasting you, and you feel your face flush at the action, burning hot when looks up at you, the corners of his mouth dragging up slowly. “You did.”

“Shut up.”

Sanzu’s reaching towards the backseat for his stash, and you laugh at how his arm barely reaches it, flailing it uselessly around the air.

“You’re not gonna reach it, Haru.”

“Watch me.”

He grunts and groans like he’s lifting heavy bricks, and you start to take pity on him. “Dude, just give up.”

“No.”

If there’s one thing about Sanzu it’s that he’s determined, but not in the way you think. It’s more the stubborn version, always trying to do the impossible, ignoring you when you tell him it’s not possible, then sulks when he fails.

He clicks his tongue, shifting you down on his lap so he has more room and this time successfully grabs at it. “Told you. Always hatin’ on me.”

You giggle, faint and shrill, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder, watching him dug through the contents of the bag, his slender, skilled fingers professionally rolling another blunt.

It’s silent in the car again, you two both bask in each other’s presence. Both of you refusing to discuss what happened earlier, not sure if those sudden feelings you felt were because of the weed or if there’s something else deep inside, a false truth you’ve refused to make terms with, or shoved them aside for another unknown reason unbeknownst to you.

Your head is racing with thoughts, pictures of Haru wondering where you suddenly felt these emotions towards him came from. The thought of sharing him with anyone else angers you, but it shouldn’t because you’re both friends. The thought of him laying in a car with another girl on top of him angers you, makes you feel bitter and resentment towards this imaginary woman your brain fabricated inside your head.

It’s like your body is working against you.

Stupid weed.

Haru’s gone for the second time today, and for the first time in what felt like ten minutes—in actuality it was only three—you look up at him. He looks like he’s falling asleep, those chubby cheeks of his so promising, so soft, you can’t help but shift upwards, pressing soft kisses against them.

It should be weird to him that he doesn’t question your sudden out of character movements, but then again you both did just have sex not longer than five minutes ago.

His phone rings at the backseat, pulling you away from his neck where you were sucking fresh purple hickeys onto and he groans when your ass brushes aginst his cock. It’s been slightly hard the entire time, still not over his recent orgasm, but not strong enough to maintain itself to stand tall.

“What’re you doin’?” You freeze as your hand hovers over his phone.

“Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. It’s irritating.” The caller ID is Ran, and part of you wants to answer it so you can know what he looks like. It’s been nudging at your brain the entire time, trying to figure out which one of his friends is who, trying to put the pieces of the faceless group of boys together to solve the puzzle.

“Just ignore it—okay then.” You answer the phone away, turning the camera away from your naked body onto Sanzu’s face. You squirm around, trying to find where Sanzu threw your bra and shirt as the two engage in small talk.

“What do you want?”

Ran snorts on the other end, his voice deep, familiar, and husky. “Don’t needa get all pissy, you big baby. Takeomi wants to know where you are.”

“What the fuck does that have to do wit’ me?”

“Call him, or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know?”

Haru sniffs, nose wrinkling when the smoke he blows out invades his nostrils. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Being a fuckin’ junkie?” Ran snorts, petty and bitterly, voice now laced in sarcasm. “So productive.”

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at the same time you put your shirt back on, reaching under your shirt to fix the straps of your bra. “I’m doing more than getting high, you slug. I’m with my friend.”

You had tuned out the conversation from the beginning, your main priority being your clothes, but at the mention of ‘friend’, he jostles his leg, catching your attention. “Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?”

“Oh? Who might you be?”

“I’m—” Haruchiyo ends the call before you could even get the first letter of your name out. “What the hell?”

He lazily shrugs, tossing his phone into the backseat without a care. It hits the edge of the seat, before hitting the floor with a mild smack. Two noble fingers grasp at your chin, redirecting your gaze from his probably broken phone to his face.

The kiss is passionate, and long, his wet slide of his tongue laving itself inside your mouth. Your face grows hot when his lips wrap around the length of your tongue, sucking the moisture from it, replacing it with his own. It’s messy but you don’t care, happily drinking the mixed saliva from his mouth.

His sharp teeth sink into your lips, stopping you from pulling away, kissing you with fervour as his heavy head spins, and bright flashes of colour appears behind his closed eyes.

“I’m so hungry,” he gasps out when he finally pulls away, wiping the saliva from his mouth with his forearm, giving you back the breath he stole from your lungs with that kiss.

“You want me to drive you to McDonalds?”

He grins up at you, that stupid adorable look on his face that has your heart warming in your chest. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“It’s my way of forcing some food down your throat before you die of starvation.”

“What if I was thirsty instead?”

“McDonalds sells drinks, dumbass.”

“ Or… ” He places his hands on your hips, pulling you forward on his lap. You yelp at the motion, hands flying to the headrest behind him to stabilise yourself.

What he’s insinuating is lost to you for a moment, only becoming obvious when his hand snakes down to your pussy, thumb nudging insistently at your clit. His eyes dip down to your chest, your nipples still hard and poking through the thin fabric of your shirt, then drags them back up to your face and smiles.

“You’re so horny.” Your eyeroll is fabricated and fake, part of you deep down wants it too.

“You like it though.” It’s true, and he knows it too. The defeated look on your face is all he needs to know when he moves to open the car door, nodding his head outside. “Let’s go to my room now.”

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