#the impossible x reader

[creek-ink]

which one??

ref^

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man is quiet. The villain. The boss. The groom. Your... husband. 

The vows were what you would find in a script. Nothing special. Just standard. Just going through the motions. And when he lifted the veil, his kiss was just as prescribed. That’s it. Your life is over and his is just beginning. 

Your hand is in his as he guides you from the hall. He takes you between the pews and out the tall doors. A shower of petals rain down on you as you come out into the sunlight. There’s a car waiting. The people around you are like actors on a screen. It’s all fake. This isn’t a happy day, this is business. 

The car door shuts on the other side of him and you’re closed in with this stranger. The stranger you’ll spend the rest of your life with. You know his name and his bad deeds, but nothing else. 

You fold your hands over the layers of the full skirt. He shifts as he pulls a fold of tulle from beneath him. You watch his large hand and tremble. 

“Sorry,” you breath and snatch the skirt so that it can’t overflow onto his lap. 

He catches your hand and you freeze. You lock up, bones aching, muscles clenched. He tugs on you. You let him draw you closer as you stare at his steely grip. He brings his other hand over to pet your knuckles. The softness of his touch makes you tingle. 

“You’re scared,” he states. It isn’t a question. He knows. “If you are loyal, you don’t need to be.” 

You nod, “yes, sir.” 

He huffs through his nose, “I am your husband.” 

You close your eyes and tempo your heartbeat, “what should I call you?” 

“You know my name.” 

“Walker.” 

“August,” he insists upon his first name. “Maybe one day, you will have something softer to call me.” 

“Maybe,” you shiver and he squeezes your hand. 

“Your father wrote his own fate, you will write yours,” he raises your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. “It doesn’t need to be the same.” 

You stare ahead. You can’t let yourself feel or you will feel everything. The fear, the grief, and even, the anger. Once they boil over, you will be lost. 

“I understand, August.” 

Another heavy exhale. 

“You will not act so cold in front of my men.” He takes your hand and forces your fingers open. “You will touch me with kindness.” He puts your palm to his cheek and leads you to cradle his face. His stubble pokes at your delicate gloves. “You will do so without my order. You will behave as a wife, so far as they are concerned. Let your father’s defiance die with him.” 

“I will not resist,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

“Goddamnit, look at me,” he says. 

You turn to look him in the face. The anger you expect is absent. He watches you placidly. Your fingers twitch and he leans into your touch. He takes your other hand and forces you to twist toward him. He leans in and before you can think, his lips are on yours. 

It is different than at the altar. Not just a peck, more. His lips part and his tongue flicks out along yours. He hums and you open your mouth. His hand creeps up the back of your neck and he locks you against him. His tongue invades your mouth and you squeak. 

He draws away and his eyes narrow, “better.” You’re unsure if he means it was better than before or that you need to do better.  

He lets you go and sits back against the seat. He closes his eyes as he pushes his shoulders wide. His feet are planted as he lingers in unspoken thought. You look at the driver then out the window. You turn back to him. 

You touch his sleeve and shimmy closer. He hums again. The tone assures you that you aren’t unwelcome. Play your part, fulfill your vow. That is all that needs to be done.  

This is more than you, there is your mother, and others beyond that. Those that were once loyal to your father. Those you called friends and family. Those who now walk the same tightrope. Those that have already fallen. 

The car stops. A flicker of panic strikes in your chest. The door opens from outside and he pulls you out with him. You keep one hand on your skirt and the other on his arm. He marches ahead. 

You enter the large building and wait in some room. He remains silent, pensive. You’re summoned and after a time. He fixes your arm to hook through his as you stand before the large doors. 

“Head up,” he girds before you enter. 

They watch you, just as before. You can hear them this time, whispering. You don’t look anywhere but ahead of you. He nods at the more notable guests. You will not doubt be met again with those faces through the night. 

He puts you ahead of him to climb onto the platform where the bride and groom’s table stands. He follows closely. He pulls a chair out but puts his hand to your back so you cannot sit. He sidles behind you. Instead, he sits with you, lifting you into his lap. 

You quiver again. Humiliation surges through you. This is his show of victory. He boasting. No, you will not just be beside him, you are his.  

[pinkeos]

smitten!aventurine who would bring you coffee every morning, saying he made a mistake and bought two, when you point out that he said that last time, he'd say he's clumsy and always messes up his orders

smitten!aventurine buying something you've been eyeing for the last couple of days, saying he just felt like buying it for you

smitten!aventurine who's so proud and giddy when he sees you wearing the bracelet he bought for you

smitten!aventurine who can't help but smile widely when you laugh at something he's said, happy that he was the one who made you laugh

smitten!aventurine who would drop by your desk and listen to whatever gossip you had, pretending like he's really into it but in reality, he's more focused on your smile, the way your nose scrunches up adorably when you speak about someone you don't like

smitten!aventurine who is over the moon when you give him a gift, it doesn't matter if it's expensive or not, what matters is that it was from you and you thought about him

smitten!aventurine who would talk about you to others almost non stop, even when you're not with him, he would point out something he saw that reminded him of you and go “that'll look cute on them”, “i'm sure they'll like this”

smitten!aventurine who would tell topaz about you so much that she would just tell him to confess already, that he was a gambler, right? why not take the risk and tell you what he felt?

smitten!aventurine who, despite appearing smug and confident when it came to gambling, is actually scared of losing you if you actually didn't reciprocate his feelings

[genshin-scenarios]

spiderverse continued: you’re a sunflower—! 🌻

Summary: As requested, here are the continuations to my previous Spiderverse post here!

Characters: Kinich, Heizou, Tighnari-Cyno, Venti, Wriothesley, Lyney

Warnings: Mild depictions of a panic attack for Wriothesley. Major character death in Lyney ‘bad end’ option (there is also a good end so don't worry!)

Kinich

When interdimensional rifts start to appear in Kinich’s world, he's not-so-proud to admit it made him a little hopeful that instead of an abyssal monster, it'd be you that falls out instead.

His wish is granted—somewhat, when he sees you. Not spiderman-you, but the version of you from his world who he's never met before.

You tell him you’re a test subject from a governmental organisation who got lost in the rifts many years ago (they were researching multi-dimensions). 

That at least explained why Kinich couldn't find traces of a ‘you’ from his dimension before (he was totally not pining and definitely wasn't disappointed when his searches came up empty)

Other than his one-sided attachment however, Kinich did have a practical reason for staying in contact with you. You seem to have gained abyssal powers from staying in the rifts for so long, and you're a crucial key to figuring out how to close them for good.

At the end of your first cooperation, Kinich drops a line that he wished he could've said to the other-you: at the core of the sentiment, he was truly just afraid you’d disappear back into the rifts and never meet again. 

“Come to me if you have any problems. For you, I'll do anything.”

You stay quiet, giving him a small smile before disappearing to your hideout. Considering how you were just a lost test subject, you weren't very keen on going back to the organisation that used to own you… but more baffling are the flashbacks that keep entering your mind—memories from spider-you in bittersweet, rose-coloured lenses. 

It wasn't uncommon for you to witness the memories of your other-dimensional selves, but ever since returning to your original world, this spider-version’s memories have been invading your mind.

Kinich knows you aren't the same person, but he does feel a soft spot for you nevertheless. As time goes on, he’ll notice similarities and differences between this-you and spider-you. 

Is it possible to fall for the same person twice? It seems that no matter which version, Kinich's drawn like a moth to a flame (clearly, he has a type. Or perhaps there's some element about being soulmates that'll better explain this). He’ll earn your trust slowly and get to know the current-you as an individual, and pay the price for loving you twice by convincing you that he's seeing the real you, instead of an imagined spider-other. 

The first time you truly let your guard down is when he's tending to animals in the nature reserve—his serious face while carrying a very cure hippo calf in his arms was truly a sight to behold:

“What is it?” “Nothing—I just never thought an animal could look so cute.”

Kinich thinks for a moment about how cute the sanctuary's animals might be. You guys had hit a roadblock in your plans and needed a way to divert police forces away from the Abyss-monsters. He tells you his idea. Your jaw drops. 

"We are NOT using the animals as bait!” "They aren't bait, we're just... letting them loose."

In the city. To divert traffic.

"I can already see the headlines,” you cross your arms. “Spiderman endangers animals - menace or hero?"

Kinich thinks to himself that he wouldn't mind being a menace, if it'll draw this expressive of a reaction from you.

Heizou

It isn't uncommon for Heizou to rescue you as Spiderman, particularly when he's late for a meeting and was swinging to avoid traffic, or when there's a villain on the loose.

“Late for a meeting, Reporter?” He asks as he swings the both of you between office towers, knowing full-well that the meeting in question was with him. Heizou is also not above small-talk as he asks you about the famous detective you're dating, and what you like about him:

“I feel like this is a little bit too personal, even if you've saved my life.” You raise your brow. “But if you must know, Detective Heizou has many charming traits, down to his impressive intellect and close-combat abilities. I'd say he can even give you a run for your money.”

You'd never say something so grandiose to his civilian-self. “Do you boast about him to everyone, or is it just your way of letting me know you're taken?”

“What do you think, Spiderman?”

Heizou thinks he should buy you flowers more often for being his number one spokesperson, but you’ll only chide him for buying too many things for you.

“Another gift?” You blink in surprise, accepting the box from Heizou. “I'm starting to wonder just how much you earn as a detective. Maybe I should switch careers.”

“I’ll have you know that I only buy things with sentimental value.” His eyes glimmer as he watches for your reaction. Your gaze widens when you see the necklace that shines with the same green shade as his eyes. It doubles as a safety beacon that'd send him your location if you pressed it in an emergency—thoughtful as he always is. 

“Anyways, could you help me make out these words? The handwriting is horrible.” He passes a notebook to you. Fully ready to help with the task, you're caught completely off-guard by details to a restaurant, finished by a not-so-subtle ‘date?’

“Heizou… you're already my boyfriend, are the pickup lines really–” “What does it say?” “...Would the beautiful person sitting across me like to go on a date.” “You didn't read out where, but I suppose I'm not picky about blindly following you.” “Heizou.” “You can even blindfold me if you'd like~”

Tighnari-Cyno

Remember the thank-you kiss on the cheek you gave to Vulpes? Yeah… That innocent gesture has somehow ended up in the tabloids, and you've been badgered by reporters who want to know if you're connected to the Spidermen ever since!

It gets to a point where Tighnari and Cyno have started to escort you in public areas just to try and give you some peace of mind—meanwhile, Tighnari might be beating himself up a little for causing you trouble. Sure, neither of you knew some sleuthing reporter could’ve witnessed it, but the damage is done.

“Maybe you should try to prove to the public that nothing is going on.” Tighnari numbly suggests. “Vulpes should've seen the newspapers by now. If he has any conscience as a hero, he should at least put it on the record that you don't know each other and get the media off your back.”

“I agree. If this continues, you could be in danger of being targeted by worse people.” Cyno says. “I believe that the superheroes patrol every now and then, so you could just leave a message somewhere discreet but visible from the sky.”

That was the plan, until a villain got to you and kidnapped you first. At this point you aren't even sure if you should laugh or cry at your luck—as the situation unfolds, both you and the Superheroes realise that the villain had a deluded image of your relationship (he read too many tabloids and thinks you're dating Vulpes). One thing leads to another, and when the villain finally has Vulpes trapped, you play the last card that comes to mind—unmasking the bottom half of Lupus’ face and kissing him right in front of them.

The shock gave Vulpes just enough time to break out of his binds and take down the villain, but not without returning to you and Lupus with his ears red (not visible but you definitely could tell from his voice) and clutching his forehead.

The clarification with the media was well-thought out and sufficed to bring your daily life back to normal, but your daily life with Tighnari and Cyno? A whole other story. The entire fiasco and theories about you dating their hero-selves has made the two a lot more conscious about their crushes on you—which somehow manifested into a lot of trouble!

Cyno can't believe that you gave him your first kiss without even knowing it's him. And Tighnari, well… let's just say that Lupus is going to have a very hard time during their next patrol. (Love and peace will come when your polytrio starts dating as civilians. Being committed makes them less petty)

Venti

“Guess who!” 

“Who else would be able to break into my room?” You muse, removing the hands which have covered your eyes, accompanied by a melodic hum. “Don't tell me you're here for open-night mic at the teahouse?”

“Hmm… that would be a nice idea, but it's actually because I have something to show you.” Venti smiles. “Care to go for a swing?”

Even before becoming Spiderman, Venti always had a penchant for high-up places as hideouts for writing music. What you don't expect however is for him to have found a similar spot in Liyue—with a view so beautiful during the sunset that he just had to bring you to it, regardless of how tired he must be from travelling to your city alone.

Things get a easier when you gain access to a waypoint device and registered Mondstadt as one of your destinations. It's your turn to crash in Venti's room while he goes on patrol, waiting for him to come back while you keep an eye on his navigation and police radio.

When he encounters a villain who you've only heard of as a rumour before, you're quick to don your own uniform, send a distress signal to your teammates, and join the fight yourself. 

There's a certain level of trust required to work together in such a high-speed environment, but the two of you make-do with your earpieces and manage to take the villain down. This is the first time Venti’s meeting your teammates, and is surprised to hear that they've heard about him before—not as Spiderman, but ‘that one cutie’ from your home-city that you’re ‘crazy about’.

Suffice to say you turned to violent threats very quickly to silence them and save your dignity, but the moment Venti heard the word ‘cute’ it was over—he manages to trap you in Mondstadt for now while your teammates send the villain back to headquarters, waving the both of you cheerily goodbye as Venti, still suited, keeps an arm around your shoulders. 

When you've retreated to the safety of his room and settled for the night, right as you thought that maybe the comment has escaped his mind—Venti peers up from his laid-down position on his stomach, at you who's sitting up and reading on your phone.

“So, there's this hometown sweetheart you have a crush on-?”

You have a feeling that he might begin a hunt if you dared to joke that it isn't him you were yapping about. And while you know that Venti wouldn't hurt anyone—it's somehow hard not to feel like you're in danger when his eyes are glimmering knowingly like that. (You feel the skip of a heart—your heart, to be exact.)

Wriothesley

Things get bad when you—a renowned detective—are framed for a crime you didn't commit. 

It's normally you bailing Wriothesley out of trouble with corporations and the media, after all, not the other way around. So when you sneak into his hideout with a cloak and looking worse for wear, Wriothesley knows that this isn't like the past times a villain is targeting you—whoever is on your case now is out for something important, and you'll both have to figure out what it is before it's too late.

Most of this adventure involves you living undercover as a regular civilian rather than your usual, detective self. It's almost domestic as you befriend the coworkers in Wriothesley's underground business, and become known as just another reporter who wants to ‘find out the truth’ about your detective-self's scandal.

People underestimate you because you've been pretending to be helpless in combat, letting Wriothesley take charge—allowing you to pretend you've been knocked out and do some sleuthing of your own at some point. But when all of that is done, Wriothesley has to hide a chuckle when you throw yourself back into character:

“Oh, thank god you're back! I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come in time!”  “I can still see your weapon in your coat.”  “Ah… And just where are you looking, Mr Wriothesley? My eyes are up here.”

The two of you are so unserious sometimes that it annoys your opponents, to be honest. But when things take a serious, darker turn, you're both faced with the reminders of your past staring back at you.

Suddenly, all the bravado in your body bleeds away, leaving a gaping hole in your chest that’s wide with panic. It's suddenly hard to breathe, but before you can devolve any further, you’re anchored by a grip on your shoulder which draws you into a firm chest. 

Even suited, you can still feel Wriothesley’s body heat and the loud thumps of his heart. Whether it be from fighting or seeing the same fears as you, you buried your head in his embrace nonetheless—pretending for a second that the world has slowed down.

Even the greatest of detectives may one day face a truth they cannot handle alone. Who would've thought that the thing which’ll comfort you is akin to a spider, which scatters out from the same shadow?

Lyney

I've already written some additional thoughts about Lyney here and here, so in this post I'll write a sort of ‘how it ends’ situation!

Like the theme suggests, this is how Lyney knowing your identity might end for the both of you…

A common enemy appears in the form of a mad scientist obsessed with abyssal technology, who's summoned a monster from the depths of the ocean (the narwhal).

There's a long-winded investigation from both you and the House of Hearth (the Fatui may be antagonistic, but they don't want to destroy their home) which finally collides when you run into the Phantom Twins at a very suspicious site. From there on, the twins have been cooperating with Spiderman to find the source of the unnatural floods around the city, and even helped out with evacuations.

Your impression of the Phantom Twins soften when you witness Lyney push himself too much whilst saving bystanders, ending up with a sprained leg. You offer to carry him back to the meeting point, which he vehemently refuses via evasive remarks, before your insistence makes him falter.

…Ah, how was he supposed to avoid you like this? You're just too heroic for your own good.

You're surprised by how light he is, which he takes slightly in offence. But more importantly—he's burning up! Having built up a fever from working night after night and not getting enough rest, you hand the masked fatuus to his sister and tell her to make sure he gets some rest. (You know it's bad when he's not as annoying as usual)

Lyney is mortified when you hear about his absence (due to illness) at school and asked Lynette if you could visit to pass him class notes. At this point Lynette doesn't know you're Spiderman but does know about Lyney’s huge crush, so she agrees and even says you can hang around and try to cheer him up, since he's been moping lately (mostly because he can't join on missions for now, but civilian-you doesn't know that.)

He can't decide if he's elated, embarrassed, concerned (or a jumble of all the above) when you step into his room, notes from class and snacks in hand. His injured leg is hidden beneath his blanket covers. Lynette quickly disappears after giving him a thumbs up, leaving the two of you alone. It's your first time seeing Lyney so tired, but the softness that he always holds towards you remains nonetheless. Your thoughts even wander back to when you encountered him as Spiderman for the first time and noticed an oddness in his attitude—something cold in his eyes despite his warm tone and smile.

It's leagues away from the normal Lyney that speaks to you or anyone else at school. But a couple of months later, you run into him as Spiderman again and notice that the coldness is no longer there.

Strange. Perhaps it’s just distrust towards you when you were still a new superhero? The press hasn't exactly been kind with their criticisms, so you can see why some people might be wary about you.

But still, something about that encounter versus his usual self still lingers in your mind, and you realise after a while that it's because you care whether or not he likes you.

But that's ridiculous. You're just friends, right?

Bad end, warning for major character death: by the time you realise that Lyney isn't just a friend, he's already sacrificed himself in the fight against the narwhal, only to reveal his identity at the very end as he tells you to protect his siblings and the city. “Under regular circumstances, I'd very much prefer to be alive and do it myself—but there are some things that only superheroes can do. So make sure not to break my heart by wasting my sacrifice, alright?” Do I now feel more like a hero, to you?

Good end: in a critical moment, Lyney tries to sacrifice himself but you jump in the way. In his panic, he calls out your real name, just as backup arrives from Lynette and Freminet.

“You… How did you know?” 

It hurts that you're looking at Lyney with such terror, with a guarded clench in your jaw as you pick up a random weapon in an effort to steel yourself. “Answer me now, before—”

“Please don't be too mad,” Lyney raises his palms, finally coming clean. You eyes widen as he slides his own mask off, wincing from the injury on his leg which has reopened during the fight. “I didn't say anything because I knew the city needed you.” Then, a pause. “...And it's a little complicated when you learn that the person you like has also been your alter-ego’s rival.”

With a weak smile, Lyney has the nerve to pick out an item from his cloak pocket and fold it into a little rose. He gives it to you like a delicate piece offering, before retracting and giving you space. Before you can start to piece together a response, he’s fled the scene with his siblings—who judging from their shock earlier, also did not know about Lyney’s knowledge until this moment.

You can only hope that the three of them keep their mouths shut. But despite all the practical issues and feelings of betrayal coiling in your chest—why was Lyney’s expression still lingering on your mind?

He smiled at you like he was afraid of how you'd react.

…Did your feelings really matter to him so much?

[kelin-is-writing]

Ohh it definitely would actually.

[aka-indulgence]

Soundwave fic? Yes. I love him. I want him to kidnap me. What who said that

Anyway here’s a fic where tfp Soundwave kidnaps you because he likes you and you’re alone on the Nemesis with him for the first time kdsjlfjds

(Soundwave x F!Human Reader)

—————

As soon as he arrives on the ship, Soundwave transforms, shifting you from the cockpit into his hands as he does so. You make a small cry, bracing on his thumb and holding on for dear life as you wildly look around like a frightened animal.

The door behind him closing and the sunlight disappearing from its cracks only furthered your panic- Soundwave could hear the sound of your little frightened breaths, quick and shallow. It was unbearably cute.

He walks with calm, even steps through the hallways. As much as he adored your mannerisms, he didn’t want your (permanent) stay on the Nemesis to be unpleasant. He scrolls through the camera feed on his visor and finds Megatron on the bridge and heads his way.

It was quiet. Even though Soundwave had quite literally stolen you in broad daylight in front of the Autobots that could do nothing but watch him fly away with you, you still found reassurance from him. You looked up at him from time to time; furrowed brows, watery eyes. He can’t stand it. He was the only thing on this ship that was familiar to you, and so he was the only person you would seek comfort from.

A few vehicons saw him on his way to the bridge. All have balked on the sight, but they deserve credit. They were smart enough not to interfere with him, nor to question his new ‘girlfriend’.

“Commander Soundwave,” one nodded as he passed. Only someone like Soundwave could hear the slight shake in his voice.

It must be so hard for someone as small as you. Everyone and everything was so much bigger than you, even the vehicons. Even Laserbeak.

So cute…

He reaches the bridge and the doors slide open. Megatron stands ever vigilant, watching the skies.

“Soundwave. You’ve returned.” His master angles his head before fully turning around, “have you acquired the data I have asked of you?”

Soundwave nods and his screen blinks, displaying pictures of artefacts and text. Megatron’s eyes brighten and a dastardly grin widens.

“Cybertronian artefacts the humans uncovered? Excellent Soundwave. I’m surprised the humans had the forethought to store them in different places, but they won’t stay in their vaults for long…”

Coordinates show on his face of their locations, before he shows one particular artefact.

“A magnetic destabilizer. Did you retrieve it?”

His screen changes to a video of multiple army men shooting at him before the autobots arrived.

“Humans.” He sneered. “For such small creatures, their little guns can feel like scraplets when they are numerous. Even more reason to terminate these pests,”

Soundwave feels a twitch in his hand.

“Which begs the question… why have you brought one back with you?”

His liege sounded curious rather than chastising. His head dips down to where you sat. Poor thing- you were shaking now, your lips parted and gripping his finger tighter than before, unable to speak, wide-eyed staring back at Megatron.

He wraps his fingers around you in the hopes of comforting you, but it only makes you gasp in alarm, swinging your head to look back at him. You’re anxious. He pets your head and prods your cheeks for a moment before turning back to his master. To Megatron, he simply goes over pictures and footage of his encounters with you he managed to capture, then he holds you closer to his chest.

“I see…” Megatron nods. “Very well. I trust you can keep it in check. Although you were unable to retrieve the artefact, the data you brought was most valuable- we will certainly retrieve the rest. You are dismissed, Soundwave.”

Soundwave nods, and both he and Megatron turn to their next objectives; which, for Soundwave, was to have a private moment with you.

*****

Your heart is beating a mile a minute. You’re still having trouble wrapping your head around it. You were going on a human mission to meet with Fowler’s guys one moment, then taken aboard the Decepticon warship the next. And you still don’t understand why Soundwave took you in the first place, when you assume he already took all the information he needed from the unidentified objects database. Now you find out not only did Megatron not ask him to bring back a human, he specifically targeted you. What could he possibly want from you?

A door opens to an empty, barren room with a single shelf-like desk and a huge window that spans from the floor to the ceiling. Oh, and there was a bed on the desk too. Pillows, blankets, white linens and all. It looked rather plush and high quality.

So that’s what happened. You manage to think in the middle of your fear induced paralysis. Everyone had been so confused when Agent Fowler came in with the reports of Decepticon activity at a mattress store, of all places. And after a thorough checking with Ratchet, you’d found nothing else sinister has happened with mattresses. Until now, of course.

You’re placed gently on the table, far gentler than you’d expect a Decepticon to be capable of. Soundwave doesn’t look to be expecting anything from you right now, so you look around. You walk to the bed and feel the sheets; soft, slightly cold, and crisp compared to the beat up bedding you had back home. It reminds you of a hotel bed. You lift your head to look out the window: the perfect view of earth above the stratosphere. It was still day, clear from the bright blue the earth was practically glowing with- but you were so high above ground that there wasn’t enough atmosphere to scatter the light. You could even see the earth’s curvature.

The gravity of the situation, how far away you were from everything, how crazy this situation was that it didn’t feel real- it finally hits you like a ton of bricks and you were broken out of your disconnected paralysis. You were alive again. Your head feels hot, your heart is thumping, and it didn’t feel like you could breathe deeply enough. Fear and uncertainty rises in you like bile.

It’s too much.

Overwhelmed, you hiccup, and the tears start flowing.

You jump at feeling something on your side, and you’re turned around to face the one who captured you. Your hands are shaking, your lips are trembling, sobbing uncontrollably despite your attempts to hide them. You didn’t want him to see you cry, you knew Decepticons were cruel creatures. You wish you knew what he was thinking about, his emotions impossible to read considering that he’s faceless. He simply looks at you, in the silent way Soundwave always did, head tilted slightly down.

Was he judging you? Was he showing disdain? Did he think you were a pathetic, crying thing?

You couldn’t move again, with his hand bracing your back, watching his other hand approach, fingers extended. You sniffle and squeak as it gets closer but- then, very precisely for someone as enormous as he was, he wipes your tears away with his fingers.

“Huh..?”

As he caresses your head, he leans in closer, and you’re suddenly reminded of when children played with their dolls. Coddling them, playing with their hair, that unwavering stare. It makes you nervous, and you squish into his hand more trying to make space from him. You’re confronted with your own reflection in his visor, your eyes reddish and wet.

“Wh-what,” you swallow, mouth dry. “What is it that you want from me,”

Your voice was small and pitiful, shaking with the sobs that still racked your body. He tilts his head, as if he was asking isn’t it obvious?

One slender, extended finger pokes the center of your chest, on your sternum.

Static sounds from his face, and the voice you hear is yours.

“You.”

Me? What do you mean you ‘want me’?? You thought in distress. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing, or if you liked that answer.

“I still don’t… know what you mean by that. Do you want me so y-you can hurt me? Torture me? Put me through some Decepticon experiment? Wh–?!”

The last word turns into a high-pitched squeal as Soundwave lifts you off the ground and brings you close to his face. He isn’t viewing you like he did before, instead steadily bringing you closer and closer. His faceless appearance frightens you, and with alarm you feel like he’s about to squash you against his face- like he was trying to eat you, if he had a mouth. Your panicked breaths turn into a yelp, covering your face and your body seizing up.

You jolt when you feel his visor pressing to the entire side of your body, keenly aware of how much you’re trembling when you’re pressed against this wall that was his face. You kept your eyes shut, feeling him press you further into him, whimpers escaping you.

… But nothing happens. Instead, Soundwave starts moving his face against you, up and down in a rhythmic motion. It’s gentle, careful- he isn’t trying to hurt you. The pressure his hand is putting on you is only just enough to slightly squish you against him, and you feel like a plush toy with your cheek smooshed on his visor. A soft, smooth, deep sound emits from within him, strong enough that it shakes you, but low enough that it isn’t overwhelming. Like an engine revving.

Is he. Nuzzling you?

You open one eye, the other shut from the decepticon’s face rubbing. “Whuh- what’s happening,”

You try to push off his face to make room for yourself, but this only makes Soundwave press you back into his face, this time nuzzling you from left to right.

You sputter, your nose and mouth pressing against him from his motion, before he finally pulls his face away from you, his shoulders bouncing with what might’ve been laughter.

Your puzzled face was clear on his visor.

“I like you.” He says. “I like - Y/n.”

Now that really confused you. You could accept him wanting you for nefarious reasons, even for personal ones but- was Soundwave liking you the reason he took you? You can’t believe it, even as the man in question has his fingers on your cheek again, tickling you and making you close your eyes again from his obsessive petting.

You get a moment to speak when his petting finally stops. You could feel the redness and heat radiating from your cheek from where Soundwave pressed his face on you.

“S-so… you don’t want to hurt me,” you clarify. You had to make sure.

Soundwave shakes his head. “No.”

Phew. That was a relief. You were still on the Decepticon warship of course- but at least your kidnapper wasn’t here to harm you.

There were others on the ship though, who you’re sure aren’t fond of humans.

You simmer in that thought, looking away from Soundwave, who patiently waits for you to say something. You let him thumb you, stroking your hair down placatingly. You have to admit to yourself, it was working more than you thought it would.

You sigh out the heaviness in your chest, and turn back to Soundwave. You open your mouth, hesitating for a second.

“Promise,” you say, “promise you won’t hurt me? Promise you won’t let anyone hurt me,”

You knew there was no way you could really demand something from a Decepticon, your difference in size astronomical, not to mention in strength. But you hoped Soundwave liked you enough that he would honor your request.

Soundwave stares silently, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. But you notice his head tilting imperceptibly downwards. You aren’t sure if it was a nod, or just a small movement indicating he was thinking about it.

For now, it was enough.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[yandere-wishes]

Remind me again why "cute housewife" of "hot fictional man" isn't a real carrer option??

[angel-cryptid]

I'm so fucking mad. Why when girls like dark and morally questionable characters people assume they're trying to be edgy and not like the other girls? Stfu and let girls live.

[eloquentlytired]

18+ mdni

— doing your job.

pairing: CEO!august walker x secretary!fem reader

word count: 2k

warnings: mutual pleasure/masturbation — fingering — squirting — tongue suckling — dom/sub undertones — august walker tries to play it tough but he can't help himself around you.

🌸

“mister walker we shouldn't—” you try to reason with him but he's just pushing his chest harder against yours. suddenly his large office feels too small. “do your fucking job. quietly.” this isn't your job. it's not your job to be having your hand around his cock, stroking it to its full hardness. it's not your job to bite your lip and keep silent as he's moving one of his hands around you until he's sliding your panties to the side and exposing your pretty cunt. it's not your job to bury your face in his suit and cry upon the intrusion of those two thick fingers stretching your pussy out, reaching so deep it has your knees buckling. “doesn’t look like you want that work break to me. focus.” he growls under his breath, referring to your sloppy hand movement, but to your defense you're not a good multitasker. there's only so much you can do with your boss’ fingers hungrily thrusting into your wet pussy. the sounds are plain lewd and his cock twitches in your hand as you stroke it steadily this time. you don't dare move your head from where it's safely perched underneath his chin, hiding anywhere that's possible between his throat and chest area. it's a little too intimate for august but he doesn't care when he has you like this, pushing your ass back to his fingers. he splits you open, he always does, and you tug at his cock the way he likes it. he growls and uses his free hand to slap your ass hard, letting it jiggle. you whimper and he does it again. and again. and again.

your skin definitely feels tender and it's enough for now. august can't prove his ownership of you, can't have you walk around the office with evidence of what you're doing. but he can at least do this to carve his way into your memory.

you stroke his cock faster as august pumps his fingers inside that soppy cunt of yours and you grunt in unison when he starts thrusting into your fist. his jaw and teeth are clenched and it's a clear sign that he's close — you are too. your head lulls back a little and he sees you. he sees the way your eyes struggle to stay open or how you're drooling a little with your tongue peaking between your lips. he sees your eyes glazed over with lust and he's unaware that he's the same but you see him; you can tell he wants you.

“say it.” he commands you because it is so obvious that something is at the tip of your lips. you feel your face growing warm, it's embarrassing that he can see right through you. “can you kiss me? please?” you're quick to add that little plea because before anything you have to be good. august doesn't seem to contemplate it for long as he leans forward to claim your lips, his moustache touching you first before his mouth does. when he feels your pussy gripping his fingers like a vice, he understands that this is what sets you off. kissing him. the switch to his pride is on and he sets the pace for his fingers. he thrusts fast and hard making your skin jiggle with how brutally he's pounding your pussy. your eyes roll to the back of your head and you do your best to keep your fist moving around his cock as he backs his hips against your hand, nearing his orgasm. he licks into your mouth and wraps his lips around your tongue, suckling it, as you're but a helpless body in his arms.

your orgasm hits you hard and he helps you ride through it by curling his fingers into that one spot. before you know you're squirting on him, and oh you make such a mess, but he doesn't care enough to scold you at that moment. especially as your hand strokes his cock just right, tugs it hard, and your teeth latch onto his bottom lip. he grunts loudly as his cock spurts all over your hand, staining some of your clothing too. august takes care of the mess instantly because he has backup clothes for him and for you; this isn't the first time. and it won't be the last either. he beckons you over before you leave and you comply, standing before him. august gives you a plain paper with a date and address. “you’ll have your break at the same time as mine.” august walker likes to be alone when he's on vacation. everyone knows this just like they know how much he hates sharing intimate space. “you’ll spend the weekend there.” he explains as you try to make sense of the foreign address. “my house. be there by morning.” you don't argue, you just nod and mumble a yes mister walker before you're out the door. august can feel your lip gloss all over his lips, probably on his moustache too. he doesn't wipe it off yet.

[withahappyrefrain]

Friendly reminder that if you don't have quotation marks for your dialogue, it makes your story nearly impossible to read

[ohdeerfully]

Hello! Just gonna take a second and say I freaking LOVE your writing! I myself am a die-hard simp for Alastor…but enough about that! (Apologies for the long request)

Could you write one were the (fem) reader is besties with Angel dust,they share a close enough bond to cuddle with each other. Y’know since they’re like best friends and whatever they just find it entertaining. Soon enough, Alastor catches on with this consistent occurrence. Since he has a huge crush on the reader, he begins to grow jealous of the interaction. One night he knocks on her room door, at first he (tries and fails) to hide his feelings and weirdly feels the crave for affection. Which is very unlikely of him considering he’s not of fan of physical contact.

But the reader, being the smart little bastard that she is, sees right through his actions and grows suspicious. He admits his crave for affection, surprisingly very slyly.

The reader has no problem whatsoever with giving affection. So, he and the reader happily cuddle and she pets the fluffy deer ears on his head. She also catches his little deer tail wagging like crazy and she giggles at that. Leaving Al flushed and embarrassed. She gives him a little kiss and they stay like that the rest of the night :). This is just straight fluff and jealous Al.

hello alastor nation.... sorry for going super MIA for one million days,, ive honestly not been super interested in hazbin lately and just been busy in general but!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cranked this bad boy out (as in i struggled to write it for like a month so sorry if its super janky) cuz i miss writing and i miss our boy. i didnt follow your request perfectly towards the end but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! very fluffy very ooc but who cares. also not proofread so if u notice anything glaringly bad keep it a secret

By The Moonlight

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: alastor is ooc sorry.. it comes with the fluff. hes also lowkey toxic momentarily but whats new

masterlist join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Angel Dust was one of the first demons that you met after falling into Hell over a year ago—and, despite his generally off putting and sarcastic personality he was the first demon that was actually kind to you. So, obviously, you found yourself practically glued to his hip on the day-to-day. While at first he seemed annoyed by your constant presence, the bond slowly became mutual as he found himself trusting you and opening up his tightly guarded true self.

Life at the Hazbin Hotel wasn’t much different except for one considerably problematic detail: the Radio Demon. While the relationship you had with Angel Dust was very affectionate, it had always remained platonic, but with Alastor…

Who in their right mind would fall in love with that demon?

You asked yourself this constantly, often beating yourself up for it when you felt heat against your cheeks in his presence or when your eyes trailed along the curves of his ears as they moved. This is so embarrassing.

It helped a bit that he seemed to avoid you in particular, often coming up with excuses to end a conversation and leave the room whenever he saw you come in. Or… was he doing that because he knew you had feelings for him and was just avoiding you at all costs?

Lounged comfortably on a lobby couch, cuddled next to Angel, you tried not to think too hard about it, especially now during one of Charlie Morningstar’s regularly scheduled Guest Bonding Experiences where… Everyone was present. While Alastor never agreed to join any actual scenario, he seemed to enjoy watching Charlie try (and often fail) to gentle parent a crowd of sinners, to which his motives were unknown but still questionable. You knew how dangerous the Overlord was but couldn’t help but stare a little too long at him as he joined the room.

It scared the shit out of you when his piercing red eyes seemed to snap to meet your gaze, followed by a nearly unnoticeable tightening of his grin. You quickly looked away, trying to play it off by looking at everybody else as well. Angel’s arm, which was thrown around your shoulder, nudged lightly.

“You okay? Ya leg is jumpin’ like a jackhammer down there.”

You composed yourself and reassured him that everything was fine.

Today Charlie was encouraging different pairs of demons to share what they like about eachother and admit something they should work on within themselves. Like clockwork, the activities went by awkwardly and eventually derailed way off Charlie’s original plan. She was always able to quickly adapt, but even she could hardly settle the group of rowdy and crude demons when things got out of hand.  

Vaggie didn’t take long to get fed up and quieted the noise with a few shouts. Charlie placed a grateful touch against her arm before clearing her throat.

“Okayyy… back on track. Uh,” Her eyes glanced around before finally landing on you. She beckoned you up. Your mouth opened to reject, to complain, to do anything to get yourself out, but a sharp glare from Vaggie shut you up before you could even form words. You heard Angel snicker as you grimaced before peeling yourself off the couch and standing in the center of the room.

“Alastor!” The name made your stomach drop. “I know you don’t usually like to play along, but h–” She was hushed by a simple raise of his hand.

“My dear,” He said with a light, almost mocking chuckle. The static in his voice tickled goosebumps up your arms. “If you know I don’t join these frivolous games, why would you ask? Besides… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

The way his eyes glanced up and down with what you could only read as contempt or disgust made you feel sick, but somehow angry at the same time.

“Fuck is your problem, man?” You didn’t even expect yourself to speak, words tumbling from your lips before you could properly think about who you were talking to. “You think you’re better than me or something?”

A pretty rhetorical question, considering his status as an Overlord, but you couldn’t stop yourself in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was embarrassment, or hurt feelings, or a bit of both or something else entirely, but you wanted to hit him so bad right now.

There was a hush in the room, save for the growing aggression in the buzz of Alastor’s radio frequency. By the way his eyes darkened with malice, you could only assume the plethora of ways he was imagining killing you right now.

“You’re lucky I am better than you,” He said in a dangerously quiet tone, leaning his height over yours. You clenched your fists and stared back in his eyes, though your knees felt a little weak. “If you weren’t such a waste of my time you’d be dead where you stand.”

If your tongue didn’t feel like a hunk of steel you would’ve commented on how you’ve seen him actually take some delight in killing similar “low-lifes” like you. He held his position for a moment, towering over you. When he seemed satisfied with his intimidation he straightened himself back to his usual posture and tidied his bowtie. His eyes glanced towards Angel Dust, held for a moment, before he turned away and left the room.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. As your adrenaline faded, you shakily returned to your spot on the couch next to Angel before your knees had a chance to give out. You felt two of his arms hug around you, but you couldn’t muster energy to return the gesture, every limb feeling useless.

“Man, you’re lucky, really had me worried there,” He tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. “The fuck he look at me for, though? I’da thought he was gonna come after me next with that look of his.”

“Hey…” You looked up at Charlie, who was tentatively hovering next to the couch. “I… even for Alastor… I didn’t expect him to react like that. He usually just says ‘no’ when I ask.” You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“He’s unpredictable. A surprise from him is really no surprise at all if you think about it.”

Charlie’s eyebrows upturned as she looked over you, worried at your shaky state.

“You should go get some sleep, we can… just stop here. I think everyone’s tired anyway.” She waved her hand to dismiss the other demons, hoping to get you more privacy considering everyone was just ogling at you. Angel gave you a tight hug before sauntering off, not so sneakily following after Husk.

Your stomach was churning and your throat felt dry, but it wasn’t even a guess as to why. You pissed off and basically challenged Alastor and somehow got away alive. You honestly started to feel proud of yourself for that fact.

After the others left, Charlie offered to help you to your room but you merely laughed and assured her it was no big deal. You just needed a moment. You waited for a while in the dark, empty lobby, your only company the slow tick of a large grandfather clock against the far wall.

Soon an overwhelming feeling of paranoia set in and you started to feel jittery and uncomfortable. You could swear to yourself that something was watching you, but when you carefully looked around you couldn’t see anything. You hastily stood up and left for your room.

You sighed aggressively as the door shut behind you, resting the back of your head against it. Man, you felt so stupid. You never had any chance with Alastor anyway, but you still cursed yourself for acting like such a fool towards him. Just as you lifted yourself from the despairing slouched position against the wooden door, a quick but gentle knock sounded from the other side.

Assuming it was Charlie making another “are you sure you’re okay” round, you fixed your face with a smile and opened the door. As soon as it opened just a crack, your senses were flooded with the buzzing hum of an uncomfortably familiar radio noise.

Ah. Shit.

The smile was frozen temporarily on your shocked face but then slowly dropped as instead of the sweet expression of Charlie you were expecting, you instead trailed your eyes up to meet the cold, red gaze of Alastor.

Okay. Yeah. He was just here to kill you now since nobody—notably Charlie—was here to see. Makes sense!

You tried your best to stand still and unbothered as a few seconds of silence ticked by, though you weren’t sure how well you’d be able to keep it up a second time, especially now that you were... Alone. In the dark. With Alastor. Your head was already starting to hurt from the overpowering sound of radio frequency. Somehow still, you mustered the courage to speak.

“Aren’t you supposed to say hello?” You weren’t exactly sure why you said anything remotely aggressive, though maybe you were already resigned to accepting your fate at the hands of the Overlord in front of you. 

It seemed to trigger him to life again, as his eyebrows raised along with his smile. “Oh! My apologies, where have my manners gone! Hello!” You couldn’t really tell if the grin that stretched across his face held more hatred than usual.

Your arms were folded as you waited for him to continue, lips slightly pursed in worry at his presence.

Surprisingly enough, Alastor seemed to be unsure of what to say next. His mouth was slightly agape, almost like the words were caught in his throat and he was having trouble deciding what to say next. Which was odd for him, considering how he always seemed so thought out and sure of himself.

“You know, you shouldn’t be so physical with that spider friend of ours,” He finally said, which seemed incredibly forward, even by his standards. Your eyebrow quirked up in response, a frown forming at the way he so distastefully spat out his reference to Angel Dust.

“And why’s that?” “A dame like yourself… so… physical with that walking sex disaster. It’s unbecoming.”

“And… why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care what some old-fashioned radio host has to say about how I run my friendships?” You placed your hand on the door frame, ready to shut it in his face—but there was something odd about his expression that intrigued you just enough to keep it open. 

Alastor took a step forward, sensing your intention to shut the door. You took a matching step backwards. Your heart was beating at a pace you didn’t know it was capable of, reaching a rush of adrenaline that you assumed was at the face of your (final) death.

“I can’t say why I’m telling you this. I can’t say why I even care what some weak creature like you is doing. But I do know that I want you to listen to me and I will tear that spider apart if it means you do.” Every few words brought him a step towards you, and, just as before, you met with the same amount of steps backwards. You felt the back of your foot touch a foot of your bed.

“So you’re jealous?”

An almost comical record-scratch-esque noise sounded from—you assume—his radio staff as his body stiffened and eyes narrowed. The ambience of radio static was momentarily gone. You yourself froze, unsure exactly what made you so bold all of a sudden. It seems the face of death is one hell of a drug.

“What? How… how dare you even suggest such a ridiculous idea,” Although the intent of his words were hostile, he seemed… flustered? His face was turned away slightly and you could see the corners of his smile trembling a little bit. Would you dare admitting to yourself it was oddly cute?

“Listen, man, I’m just calling it how I see it. You come to my room in the dead of night complaining about me snugglin’ with Angel Dust. Just as you said… why would you care? Unless, of course…” You trailed, leaving the very obvious end to your sentence open for interpretation. 

Stiffly collapsing into a seated position on the corner of your bed made you realize how wobbly your knees had gotten as you were sure Alastor had been planning to kill you. You still weren’t positive you were in the clear, but your chances seemed a little brighter.

Alastor seemed to be battling some internal monologue because he still stood with his head turned from you. He was growing increasingly agitated, with the sound of his radio static returning and somehow getting sharper and louder. You wanted to try to pull him back into the conversation before he dipped out and never spoke to you again. 

“You know, I’ve never really felt any real love for the people around me. Even when I was alive. I love Angel Dust, yeah, but… nothing beyond the friendship we have. But then I got to the hotel and–”

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care. I’m not a therapist.”

“For a guy that cares so much about manners you sure love to interrupt,” You spoke in a teasing tone, though Alastor didn’t seem to appreciate the words anyway. “Plus, I mean… You’re still here. Listening.”

He pondered for a moment. You honestly were surprised he didn’t just teleport the fuck out of there the second you started talking about your feelings.

“I don’t know why I care about you.” He admitted, and you didn’t fail to notice the lack of his usual radio-filtered voice. As awkward as the words seemed falling from his lips, his piercing eye contact with you never wavered as if he was just trying to intimidate you into nonexistence so he didn’t have to deal with this.

When you patted the spot on the bed next to you, you didn’t actually expect him to accept the offer. What you expected even less was for him to sit just close enough for your shoulders to touch. He was stiff and likely uncomfortable, and… so were you. You really had no clue how you even got here.

Seconds felt like hours as you sat in silence, the barely noticeable prickling of static against your skin being the only thing keeping you present. Otherwise you worried you might pass out from how long your heart had been nearly beating out of your chest.

“What were you saying earlier?” His voice suddenly broke the silence, making you jump slightly. You looked at him, but he was busy looking out a window.

“What do you mean?” “I mean earlier when I, very rudely, I apologize, interrupted you. What were you saying… about when you finally got to the hotel?”

His voice had such a sweet sound to it when it wasn’t distorted like it went through a radio channel. You allowed your eyes to trace the silhouette of his face for just a moment, lit ever so slightly by the red of the moon being filtered in by the window. You didn’t dare let your gaze linger for too long just in case he turned back towards you.

“Ah, I thought you weren’t my therapist,” You joked lightly. He side-eyed you, eyebrows scrunching.

“Don’t push your luck here.”

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to find air to even speak. You were still so incredibly nervous sitting so close to him and speaking so intimate with him.

“Yeah, uh… When I got to the hotel I think I finally found someone I felt love for. Something beyond just friendship. And it’s a weird feeling.”

Your knees were almost touching his. You could’ve sworn you weren’t this close to him before.

“I don’t think you should say who that demon is.”

“I know.”

Silence passed between you two again, and he still remained fixated on staring out the window. Finally, after a few moments of quiet, he finally turned his gaze back to you. His eyes, although they glowed with a dangerous, murderous red, somehow entranced you. They always had, but something about being this close to him in the gentle lighting being cast in from the moon… you could almost drown in them.

Without much of a thought, your hand had risen towards his face. When he flinched away you were suddenly brought back to your senses and your hand froze midair. Before you could move away and throw out a million apologies, his clawed fingers wrapped over yours.

It was a strange sensation, feeling his hand against yours. His skin was far from warm, and you knew how much blood spilled between his fingers, yet…

You allowed him to pull you towards him, a tug at your wrist bringing your chest flush against his. Your head was under his chin, and you held yourself stiffly against him. You could tell he wasn’t so sure either, with the way his hand held a rough uncertainty at the base of your back and his clawed fingers dug just a bit too roughly into your skin as he held you against him.

Gently moving, you tested the waters of his tolerance of you taking matters into your own hands. Although this feeling was unknown to the both of you, you at the very least knew how to be comfortable.

You urged him to scoot towards the pillows, pulling him along and pressing him back down on his back. You moved slow, waiting for the smallest hint that he wanted you to stop, but it never came. You settled next to him, flush against his side and you guided his arm to wrap around your waist. 

The stiffness ever so gradually left his body as he completely succumbed himself to you, allowing you to mold the two of you into an interwoven position, a closeness that the two of you desperately needed for each other. He would never admit this desire, but you knew by the fact you weren’t incinerated for trying to touch him that he needed this as much as you did.

Once settled, you traced featherlike fingers across his arm. You weren’t eye level with him, but you knew by the red glow in your peripheral that he was staring fixedly at you as if to study your entire being.

The moon eventually moved beyond your window, casting the room in complete darkness, your only sensation being the pressure of Alastor’s body against yours. There wasn’t even the slightest buzz of radio noise that seemed to always encompass his presence. His eyes must’ve been shut, too, as there wasn’t even a glow from them.

You let your eyes fall shut, enjoying the peace of the moment. You hadn’t the slightest clue what would happen in the morning—maybe you’d never even wake up if he got upset with some morning clarity.

You didn’t care too much, though. You’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father's murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"This is how we stay safe," your mother tugs the laces so your lurch. 

Your eyes widen at your reflection. The gown is tight yet too big. The bodice pinches as your mother yanks and yanks. The skirt is full and fluffy. Layers and layers of tulle.  

You can't breathe but you don't think its the boning. You touch the front of the gown, feeling the delicate embroidery, and shudder as you exhale. Strange how days before you wore black and cried, now you're in white in what many deem the happiest day if your life. 

"Hasn't he taken enough--" 

"Shh!" She whips her finger up. "He can always take more. Your father didn't think so but he can, god rest. There's always something to lose." 

"Mom," you croak. You've never seen her afraid. She's always been pompous, always unfazed, but now her eyes are like sparklers, flickering and frantic. "I'm scared." 

"Be scared but be obedient. And smile," she moves around you and frames your face, "smile. Please. He can always change his mind. Don't let him. If he does, we are lost." 

"How do you know? Daddy's gone. We can leave--" 

"The vultures are waiting," she snarls. "Don't you understand? It's only the wolf that keeps them at bay." 

"Why... why would he want me? If daddy--" 

"Hush, I won't tell you again. Do not speak of your father. Especially in front of him." She dabs your lip with her thumb as she fixes your make up, "from this day forth, he is the only man in your life. Understand?" 

You pout. That night comes back. The echoing bang the woke you, your mother's scream, and the barrels that pointed through your doorway. Quick, clean, horrifying. As if your father never was. 

"Yes." 

"You better. You know this man is cruel. Do you want to test him?" 

You shake your head and she lets you go. You back away and heave. You won't mess up the hours of work put into your hair and face. If you look in the mirror again, you will. 

You stare at your skirts as your mother pins the veil on your head. She pulls on it, arranging it around you. It drapes almost to your feet. 

A knock at the door. She goes to it. Whispers. The door stays open. Your mother calls your name. Your soles stick before you can make yourself move. 

As you get to her, your mother takes you by your wrist. You feel her warmth through the lacy gloves. She guides you behind a party of women. Some you recognise, some you don't. Their makeup is thickly caked on and their hair teased. 

"Look up," your mother snaps under her breath and lets you go. "You will not shame your family by hiding." 

You raise your head. Your head is light and bobbly. You march down the hallway behind the train of solemn women. 

You’ve never met the man who killed your father. The very same you are about to face. The one you are to marry. It’s the sort of irony that hurts. 

You’re stopped as the other women keep going. They leave you, one by one, until it is only your mother. She gives your hand a final squeeze and goes. You wait alone, uncertain. 

The music changes and you flinch. You know you have to go but you don’t want to. You don’t want to die either. And you don’t want to lose your mom. She’s all you have left. 

You can picture the house. Ransacked, bullet-riddled, crowded with strange men. You push away the memories and step forward. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. That’s what this life will be. Do what has to be done, not what you want. 

You enter the large hall. Peaked ceilings, music echoing off the walls, full pews, and a man waiting. You look ahead to the figure at the altar. Two, but the shorter one fades into the background. The priest is a blue as your eyes fixate on the man in the white suit. 

As you get closer, his features come into focus. Dark curls, a shadow of a beard and a thick line of hair over his lip. The cleft in his chin adds to the chisel of his jaw and he’s tall. Very tall and broad. His blue eyes meet yours. 

You trip as you try to step up beside him. He’s quick to catch you. His grip is iron on your arm. He helps you up and stands you across from his. Your eyes cling to him. You can’t look away. You’re terrified. He can’t look away from you either. 

You stand facing each other; you trapped him shock, him in triumph. This day is the first day of the rest of your life. The end of the empire and the birth of another. A vow to seal your fate and those of all watching. 

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 8

Pairing: Eddie Munson X fem!Reader

Summary: "We were friends for a long time... and then we weren't."

Word Count: 4.3 K

Divider was created by @hellfire--cult ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

New Years Eve, 1983

There was always so much noise at Granny’s house.

People were everywhere. In the kitchen, in the bedrooms, in the den, even outside in the cold. There was no escaping from the noise no matter where one went in this house.

So why, then, as you sat on Granny’s little gossip bench staring at her pale yellow phone, did you feel completely suffocated by its silence?

“Are you expecting a call?” 

Startled, you looked up at your grandmother and answered, “Yes… maybe…” you looked down at your lap, feeling utterly childish as you tumbled through your sentence. “He didn’t say when he would call, exactly. Just said that he would.”

Granny watched you with understanding, nodding her head as if you were making complete sense and not ignoring what an entire week of silence from that phone must mean. 

“Well dear,” Granny said softly, “the way I see it, you have two options.” 

You listened intently, worrying the telephone cord between your fingers as you had been for who knew how long by now. 

“-Ether you risk missing that call- which I’m sure any sorry soul who waits a week to call a girl as pretty as my granddaughter would understand- and spend some time with your family,” you didn’t miss the knowing smile she gave you or the raise of one near translucent gray eyebrow. “-or you can sit by the phone for the rest of your time here letting some boy take over your entire holiday.”

You cringed, looking back at the phone for one more longing second before smiling at your granny as you stood from the chair. 

“Need any help in the kitchen, Gran?” 

She grinned, hooking your arm with her own as the two of you made your way to the already crowded kitchen to find something to occupy your mind other than some boy. 

However, you still chanced a look over your shoulder at the telephone before it disappeared from your sight. Eddie said he would call. It’s been a week, why hasn’t he called? 

He said he would call.

Eddie was staring at the phone too.

He’d been staring at it ever since Robin had told him what happened with Alan. Been staring on Christmas Day, been staring every day after that, stared at it on New Years Eve when he wondered if he’d ever get to claim your New Year’s kiss one day. Fantasized, more like. He knew it wasn’t a possibility now. 

He’d already made up his mind, and that was why he wouldn’t touch the phone.

For the best, he told himself. It’s for the best. 

The radio silence continued for far longer than you’d thought it would. 

Eddie knew when you were coming home- you’d told him that he could see you as soon as you got home the Friday after New Years’. He’d said the two of you could make up for the lost holiday time over the weekend before school began. 

But there was no call from Eddie. And even though you knew he was in the wrong, there was a part of you that was laughing at yourself for being so naive that you’d expected this to actually happen. Dating Eddie Munson… who were you kidding? He didn’t even want you wearing his jacket around school; for a moment you had thought that he may feel the same way about you as you felt about him, but even if that were true he wasn’t about to let the whole of Hawkins know that. Now, you weren’t even worth a phone call.

You shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.

These were the thoughts that plagued you as you crossed the frigid parking lot of Hawkins High on the first day of the spring semester. It felt strange to drive yourself to school again… it had been almost a year since you’d done that, since your usual ride was a 1971 Chevy Astro. You couldn’t help searching the lot for that very brown and yellow van, and weren’t sure if it was relief or disappointment you felt when it was nowhere to be seen.

You didn’t see him in Latin class. Or History. Or Pre-Cal. You were beginning to think he’d just cut school for the day when you walked into the cafeteria and saw him sitting at his normal spot, head of the table as always. 

Your face started to get hot, palms sweating and heart racing- you thought about sitting at a different table since he obviously didn’t want to see you. Let yourself down easy, let the memory of him fade from your life, let him have his way. 

But then he saw you. 

For a split second, he looked as ghost-white as you felt. The next second, he was smiling and laughing at something one of the guys was saying. 

As if you weren’t even there. As if the elephant- the mammoth- in the room wasn’t even there. 

Maybe… maybe everything was fine? Maybe he had simply forgotten that he’d said he would call? What if you had remembered the conversation you’d had wrong, and it was you who was supposed to call him, and he was only avoiding you because he’d thought you were mad at him. 

A thousand possibilities were running through your head as you made your way to the lunch table, setting your things down and sitting in your usual spot beside Eddie. 

You received a couple of greetings from the guys, but not from him. That wasn’t good.

Your heart was racing; you must have done something, said something. There was some kind of misunderstanding, but you would work it out. You just had to extend an olive branch. 

Nudging Eddie’s elbow with your own got his attention, but not how you’d wanted. Instead, he flinched away as if you’d burned him. Flinched. His eyes were wide, surprised and slightly skittish as he looked at you for the first time since you’d sat down. 

Why is he so jumpy? You thought, What did I do?

“How- ahem,” your voice was surprisingly hoarse, and it dawned on you that you’d hardly spoken since you’d told your parents goodbye that morning. “-how was your break?”

He stared at you for a moment, blinked, then donned a mask of indifference as he turned his attention back to his meager lunch of pretzels and a Slim Jim and shrugged. “Good.” 

His voice was light, airy. Noncommittal and monosyllabic. The tone of voice someone used when speaking to a person they’d rather not be speaking to. You’d heard that tone from him before, but never directed at you. 

“You…” you stuttered the end of that word, struggling to make up your mind about which words would follow it. “...you said you would call, Eddie…”

If you’d thought his face was white before, you knew it was now. You noticed his chest heaving underneath his layers of jackets, and for a split second you wondered if maybe everything would be okay after all. Maybe you were just in your head, and this was all some big mistake, that everything was fine and you were just being dramatic. 

“Yeah, I…” Eddie gulped, and suddenly he was indifferent again, aloof and uncaring. “...I was busy. Sorry.” 

Nothing about this made sense. Not a single thing about this interaction made any damn sense. Eddie was never aloof with you. Never uncaring. 

“You were busy?” You repeated, and the edge in your words must have been stronger than you’d intended because the conversations around you were starting to taper off into silence in favor of listening in on the quarrel at the head of their table. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes on you, annoyed. “Yeah, I had a busy week, I already said I’m sorry.” 

“So busy you didn’t have time for even one phone call?” you whispered, keeping your voice down. You were upset, but giving the boys a show wasn’t on your agenda. “Eddie, I… we… I had a good time before we left, I thought it…” you were feeling so many emotions right now, a cocktail of embarrassment, anger, frustration, everything but sureness of yourself was swirling in a cyclone behind your eyes, and Eddie saw all of it in only one glance. It’s why he looked away and searched desperately for something else to train his gaze on. 

“...Eddie, I thought we-”

His eyes refused to meet your own, but his tone was biting when he interrupted your whispered plea with a bitter mumble. “It was one date, you’re acting like we’re married or something. Don’t be so dramatic about it.” Then he bit down on a pretzel, breaking it in half with a single crunch. 

You felt like you’d been slapped across the face. “I…I- you…” What were you trying to say? What could you say? Nothing came to mind. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, and your brain was already moving a mile a minute. You’d thought things would be different now, but not like this. Not worse. That one date hadn’t just made things weird, it had apparently caused irreparable damage to your friendship. It was too late to take anything back. You couldn’t go back to normal after this. You didn’t want normal after this. Not when you knew what what could have been felt like, and especially not now that you knew he wanted absolutely nothing to do with what could have been. Nothing to do with you.

The thoughts were swirling, and the cyclone was growing louder and more dangerous. Suddenly your eyesight was blurry, and something wet was falling down the slope of your cheek, and your heart felt as if it was clawing its way up your throat. So up you stood, snatching your unopened lunchbox from the table and crashing through the exit door. You didn’t care that it was freezing out and that you had nothing but your cable-knit red sweater for warmth, you ran anyway. You ran until you reached the black cherry tree, collapsing against its steady bark as you finally let the tears fall. 

Your heart finally found freedom from your throat when a sob wrenched its way out of you, shaking your shoulders with a violent gasp. How did this happen? How had you gone from being completely and totally sure of where you stood with him one week, and weeping over him the next? You had whiplash, you felt like you were dreaming. This wasn’t your Eddie; he was acting like a different person, why? What had you done to upset him like this?

You heard footsteps crunch across the dry, dew-frozen grass behind you, and you didn’t need to look to see who it was. You also didn’t want this particular person to see your tears; they would only serve as proof that he was right about you being too dramatic. You stared daggers into the trunk of your tree and tried to sound as unfeeling as he had. 

“I want to sit out here today.” you said, cursing the hiccup that escaped you in between sentences. “You can go back inside.” 

Eddie just stood there, silently. He didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t in his nature- being hateful. Being mean. It killed him to do this, to know he was even capable of hurting you. Yet here he was, doing it anyway.

“Okay.” he mumbled, “If you’re sure.” 

Every fiber of his being was fighting him. No rational part of him wanted to go along with this twisted plan that the darkest part of him had created- the side of him that knew deep down that he never deserved your friendship in the first place. The side of him that knew if he stayed on the path he’d been on until last week, you would get hurt again- people like Alan would make sure of it. He would drag you down, he would hold you back, and you would stand by him taking hit after hit for him all the while like the perfect angel you were. 

Simply put, he hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve you, and you didn’t deserve the shit that came with having anything to do with Eddie Munson. So here he was- righting the balance. 

He turned to walk away from you, leaving you shivering and sobbing in the cold, and just when he didn’t think he could feel like any more of an asshole, he heard your soft quavering voice from over his shoulder and his heart just about shattered.

“What did I do wrong, Eddie?”

He was glad his back was turned, or else you would have seen his expression crumple for a moment before he regained his composure. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” 

He had to make it hurt. He had to be brutal, he had to be heartless. If you thought there was a way to talk this out, you’d take it, and he’d be weak enough to let you. Then all of this would be for nothing.

He had to hurt you now; it was the only way he could make sure he never hurt you again. 

“I mean, come on. You’ve had a crush on me from day one, if I’d wanted anything serious I would have acted on it before now.” Eddie was facing you now, but he couldn’t look at you. His eyes were staring at his Reeboks with such intensity, he wondered if he might burn a hole through his toes. “I only asked you out because I felt bad for you. You were so desperate for attention… I mean, we had some fun, yeah, but that was all it was. Girls like you are just too easy to be anything serious.”

He saw your head snap up out of his periphery, and despite his better judgment, he lifted his gaze to get a better look.

Your eyes were red and wild, tear stained cheeks grayish from your makeup and upper lip slick from what your sniffles couldn’t quite catch. 

“Girls like me?” You repeated; he felt a chill run down his spine at the tone of your voice, and he knew it wasn’t due to the cold. It was low, eerily quiet and foreboding. He couldn’t help but feel like he may have gone too far, but it was too late to take it back now. 

“Well since you’re an expert on girls like me, Eddie Munson, let me tell you a thing or two about boys like you.” The tears were still flowing down your face, but the look in your eyes was anything but sad. He’d seen that look on everyone important in his life but you up until now. 

Disappointment. 

“Boys like you,” you said, “are liars. Because the way I see it, either you’re lying to yourself and to me right now, or you’ve been lying to me every day since we met and you’ve finally decided to show your true colors.”

You hiccupped through a breath, stifling a sob as your composure threatened to crinkle in on itself. 

“I can’t reconcile that the person I’ve known this whole time and the person you’re being right now are the same guy! I don’t know if you’ve always been this way and pretended you weren’t or if you’re lying right now for some reason that you aren’t telling me… But Eddie, you’re a liar either way.” 

You saw right through him; he’d almost hoped that you would. He couldn’t do anything about it, though- he wouldn’t deny nor confirm, because if he spoke he might break. He just stood there, eyes lowered to the ground like a scolded child.

You marched toward him, and his heart felt as though he’d put it behind bars. He’d silenced it, shoved it in a cell and locked the door. Even when you were standing within arms reach, he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I know when I’m not wanted, and I’m not going to fight for something that means so little to you that you’re willing to throw it away without even telling me why.”

You reached down to pick up the lunchbox you’d dropped during the onslaught of your sobbing, and caught his eye contact on the way back up. You held it menacingly and without question as to who held the authority to break it and who didn’t. “You want to let this lie? Fine. I’ll let it lie. It can lie right under a gravestone for all I care.” You shook your head slightly, face crumpling into bitter disappointment. “Bye.”

Then you walked right past him, and he did nothing. 

He didn’t chase you. He didn’t argue, he didn’t fess up about how all of this is an act meant to convince you not to spend another minute associating yourself with the likes of him. He didn’t even say ‘bye’ back. He stared at the ground and prayed to whatever god was listening that it would swallow him whole. 

It was surreal how quickly a routine could change when necessary. 

One day, Eddie was an integral part of your life. He was the reason you were excited to go to school every day. He was the source and recipient of nearly every smile you gave. 

The next day, he was gone. His presence in your life had disappeared into thin air, and while there was a part of you that had started out hoping that Eddie would come back to you with apologies and explanations, that part was never satisfied. 

It was like the last year had never happened. Eddie hung out with his Hellfire friends and you hung out with Robin. You gravitated back into your old social circles and never overlapped.

You had explained everything to Robin immediately, reeling when she told you what she’d divulged to Eddie about the incident with Alan and wondering if somehow, that had something to do with Eddie’s sudden shift in behavior. But in the end, it didn’t matter- he’d dropped you this quickly, and no reason could justify that to you. You wanted nothing to do with someone who didn’t care enough to try harder to keep you.

Winter subsided to spring, and when the time came to think about college you set your sights on schools as far away as possible- Hawkins might have been your home, but there were so many pockets of your small town that reminded you of Eddie. The lake, Benny’s, the Starcourt mall… so many places were haunted by memories of him, preserved like flowers that had begun to mold because they hadn’t been pressed quite right. 

You passed your exams in the spring easily. Despite your better judgment, you worried about Eddie doing the same without you to help him study, and that worry proved it wasn’t in vain when you heard down the grapevine that he had failed enough of his core classes that he wouldn’t be graduating with the rest of you. Funny, you thought, how you had spent so much time helping him figure out his learning style only for him to forget all of it the moment you were gone. 

If you could have seen through Eddie’s eyes, however, you would have known that he remembered everything. Painfully so. He wished he could forget, that way he might not feel so guilty when deciding not to try anymore. At a certain point, graduating just didn’t feel like something he deserved anymore.

And graduation came and went without him. You moved out to New York for college at the end of the summer, and Eddie stayed in Hawkins. You remembered hearing a rumor that he planned on dropping out. You tried not to feel responsible. 

You resolved to remember your friendship with Eddie Munson as a strong, but short lived connection. You told yourself that’s all it was ever meant to be- a powerful connection with an expiration date. With time, the pain would begin to numb and you would learn to forget about him. 

All it would take was time. 

~ 10 Years Later ~

“Okay, how about this- I take the monstera, but you get to keep all of the succulents.”

You sighed, keeping your new wireless telephone wedged between your shoulder and your ear as you worked your way through unloading the dishes from your dishwasher. It was a quaint, compact appliance designed to fit perfectly in one-butt-at-a-time kitchens such as the one in your New York City apartment. 

“Kate,” you started, wondering if she was ever going to drop this or if you were going to have to force her to take all of the plants with her when she moved out. “You have always been the one that takes care of these damn plants. You know me- am I ever going to remember to water these things?”

Her voice was quiet for a moment before you heard her defeated “...No.”

“Correct.” you confirmed, nodding sagely as you lined thrifted mismatched water glasses into a cupboard. “Do you want a single one of your precious babies to die while in my care, Kate?”

“But maybe you’ll decide you want to take care of them because they make the apartment so pretty!”

“I will not! You know that I will not, and that is why you are taking all of the plants.”

You snorted when you heard her disgruntled sigh garbled through the phone. “Don’t you want at least one of them? They brighten up the place so much, and I’m sure your new roomie would appreciate the extra oxygen it would bring-”

“-Then he can bring his own plants.” you countered, drying off your hands after unloading the last dish. 

“I still can’t believe I’m moving out…” Kate’s voice took on that nostalgic, mirror-glazed tone that you’d heard so many times this month already. It broke you down a bit- always did. You and Kate had lived in this little apartment together for the last five years. You’d seen each other through college graduations, new jobs, good dates, bad dates- and now, new living situations. 

“Kate,” you warned, “if you were going to talk yourself out of moving, it would have been a lot more convenient before you signed a lease across town and I found a new roommate.” You let yourself fall into the worn out corduroy sofa under a window where your cat, Icarus, liked to perch on the sill and soak up the sun. You reached up to scratch between his ears absentmindedly. “He’s on his way here now, so it’ll be pretty awkward if I have to tell him to get lost.”

“You’re sure this guy isn’t some weirdo?” Kate sounded concerned, which was typical of her. While she may be two years younger than you, she still worried about you like a doting big sister. “You haven’t even met him, and he’s already moving in.” 

“Well if he is,” you said, gazing at the door to what used to be Kate’s bedroom. “Then I just don’t resign the lease with him. He’s only subletting until the end of the summer anyway, so there’s nothing binding that’s keeping him here. And besides, he’s friends with one of Cathy’s brothers’ girlfriends.”

You could practically hear Kate rolling her eyes through the phone. “Right, he’s basically family at that point.”

A knock at the door caught your attention, Dun-dun-dudun-dun… dun-dun.

“Well he’s here now, so if you don’t hear from me by tonight you’ll know he’s an ax murderer.” 

“Not funny!”

You chuckled, finding it very funny. “Love you!”

“Love you too. Seriously, call me tonight!” 

You hung the phone up on its wall mount as you made your way to the door. You were curious who this mystery roommate was. When your coworker had heard you talking about how Kate was taking a job that would relocate her across town, she’d raved about this person who she’d met at a Christmas party back home who would be moving to New York and needed a place to stay. She went on and on about how he was the nicest guy, easygoing and down to earth- you’d initially wondered why Cathy wasn’t inviting him to move in with her before you remembered that she was married. 

You plastered on a welcoming smile as you turned the knob of your front door and swung it open.

You saw the eyes first. They still looked the same, sweet chocolate brown eyes framed in lashes that a Covergirl would envy. You noticed traces of eyeliner around the edges- that was new- but the eyes were the same.

The hair… there was so much more of it now. It was longer, it was shinier… it fell over his shoulders in waves and matched the scruff that dusted his cheeks and jawline. You saw light glint off an earring somewhere in all that hair. 

Your eyes zeroed in on the bats before you could focus on any of the other tattoos that now littered his arms. They were more faded now, patchy and fuzzed at the edges. Yours didn’t look too different- it looked pretty much the same, minus the bluish tint that his had taken on from too much sun exposure. 

He dressed a little differently; seemed taller too- but it was him. There was no mistaking those eyes.

On one side of your doorway, you stood in complete and utter silence. On the other side, a ghost stood in equal silence with a suitcase in one hand, a beaten guitar case in the other, and a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. 

The irony of it was funny, really. The person who had shut you out all those years ago, standing at your door, waiting to be let in. 

It just had to be you, you thought bitterly, didn’t it, Eddie?

It had to be you.

Part 9

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[shalomniscient]

as a member of the cloud knights, feixiao has always had a habit of waking up early. a soldier always has things to do, and it’s best to get a head start before the rest of the world stirs. the artificial sun of the yaoqing sends delicate, rosy trails of light through the window, like a fisherman casting his net—and catching not only her, but you as well, cuddled into her side as you are.

her hand strokes idly up your arm as she lays there for a while, watching you sleep against her. there’s a peaceful look on your face, the kind that makes her just want to stay in this bed next to you forever, or wish that the sun would never rise, so that this moment would last for the rest of her shortened lifespan.

she offers you a smile when you finally stir, her calloused fingers toying with your hair. “mornin’,” she rasps, leaning down to brush her nose against yours. you manage a soft, muffled sound in response, eyes only half-open. your head tilts and your lips brush hers, the most chaste of kisses, and she feels her heart beat like a war drum in her chest.

“morning,” you mumble into her mouth, before resting your head on her shoulder, still teetering on the edge of wakefulness and sleep. a soft ‘love you’ slips from your lips unbidden, almost indecipherable were it not for feixiao’s foxian ears. the rings on her left ear tinkle as it twitches, her expression turning achingly fond as she presses her lips to your temple.

feixiao is known by many titles—the merlin’s claw or the great general, to name a few—but her favoured one has always been the one she gave herself: the lacking general, for she lacks in rivals, regrets and worries. and now, as she looks at you in her arms, relaxed and content, with the morning sunlight kissing your skin, she knows she will never lack for love, either.

[deadxregulus]

Tom Cruise•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•

-BLACK AND WHITE TOM CRUISE-