#the mice come out at night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brownblob · 4 months ago

Text

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 1

TW: Kissing in Malleus' part, forehead kisses, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 2 (Separate): Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

ᥫ᭡. Kalim Al-Asim ᥫ᭡.

Like the scorching sun in the Scalding Sands, Kalim's feelings for you burned deep within his heart. Why is it that he wants to spend time with you, but the moment he does, his heart seems to stop? Why is it that the word 'friend' bugs him when associated with you? Why is it that he wants to be selfish, to hog you for himself? His mind become's mush whenever you're near and his throat feels dry, he just feels so shy.

Kalim is everything but shy.

Expensive gifts, prized heirlooms, rare gemstones, and any luxury you could name- he'll give it all to you, so why do you reject? Anyone else would accept his gifts with open arms, encouraging him to give more. Wait, you aren't anyone, you're you. You don't take, you give. Despite the little you have in this new world, you who harbors no magic, gives him joy. You spend time with him, you care for him, and you don't take from him- he really wishes you would.

Take his riches and look back at him just one more time, he swears he'll hand you all the gold he can acquire. So please, please just look at him more.

You're caring, so much so that he could just melt in your arms. How lucky he feels when you look at him, but why? Jamil looks at him too, he doesn't feel as if mice are tickling him then. No, when you're around, all he can see is you. You who shines brighter than any gemstone his wealth could buy. You are not a prize to be won, he knows, but he wishes that the glitters of gold could woo you, make him your number one.

He feels so lost and it hurts, nights spent sobbing away.

Kalim, the name alone makes you smile. Someone who's kind despite all that he's faced, all the horrible people he's met- he still believes in the good of people. Some call it naivety, you call it 'a heart of gold'. Yes, he's sheltered, there's some things he's slow at, and he has flaws. Despite said flaws, he want to become better and you see him try every single day. You've seen how he makes everyone comfortable, always including anyone and everyone, how he's akin to a drop of sunshine. It's a rarity and you appreciate it greatly. Twisted Wonderland, it's new to you and things are difficult but when Kalim's there, things don't feel that difficult.

He doesn't look down upon you, he doesn't think you're weak despite having no magic, and he certainly never belittles you- others have and that hurt.

He's always up for some fun, but it always feels better when he can share the fun with you. Thus, flying carpet rides have become your nightly routine. There's a soft knock on your window every other night, a hand extended your way; calling you to live, be happy. You can't help but blush when the carpet takes off, his body huddles closer to yours and the moon seems tease you with how bright she is.

It's another night and he's come to pick you up to go see the Scarabia moon. You're sitting next to each other, the desert seemingly glowing underneath. The stars twinkle and you swear the breeze is cool on purpose, just so the both of you have no choice but to lean into each other. Hands intertwine, both of you looking the other way, cheeks red like cherries.

"I..I love you."

You fumble out on mistake, your breath hitching the moment you realize. His head whips towards you, garnet eyes appraising your blushing visage. A soft smile appears on his lips, his sun-kissed skin peachy with a blush of his own.

"I love you too."

He says eagerly, hands wrapping around you as he pulls you in. The moon looks bigger, the stars winking at you, and the scent of sandalwood engulfs you. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead, one that lingers. Like a pair of sea otters, you both hold the other's hand.

ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.

Center of attention, even the room's filled to the brim with pretty faces. Eye's the color of violets and a smile that's so striking, it could cut right through you. Just how a bright star commands everyone's admiration, Vil himself does exactly that. With beauty that's akin to a velvety rose, thorns sharp and drawing blood of the one who dares touch. He's not sure why he's so fond of you, really, it baffles him. Your constant babbling should bother him- your posture isn't perfect, you don't regularly use the products he recommends to you, and your diet could use improving.

He only recently realized the perfection of imperfection. That's what you are, like an abstract piece of art that can draw even the most elegant man's heart. Truly, you can take his breath and keep it, which is a difficult feat to accomplish. Yet, you seem to have done just that.

He doesn't like how drawn he is to you, the you who could improve so much. Nevertheless, he can't deny how his heart flutters when you ramble on and on, the words you spew seem like pearls to him. Undeniably, you've got his heart, and it bothers him.

Vil seems unreachable to you, as if he's a god and you're a follower. You can see him, but you can't touch. Everything about him is captivating- the way he moves, how he walks, how he talks, everything. You feel like a toad in front of him sometimes. Still, the reason your heart continues to flutter is not his beauty but how soft he can be. His words may be harsh, telling you to fix your posture or add a certain product to your skincare, but he means well. It used to irk you, how he pointed out your flaws, but he never touched an insecurity- it was never something you couldn't fix. Many times, he only tells you how to improve and that's in his nature. It started with you muttering curses under your breath, now all you do is give him a dopey smile as he flicks your forehead.

It's hard to love Vil, and you're sure that it's even harder to be loved by him. He's untouchable and you're not sure if he'll even spare you a glance. But, the nights you spend at his dorm, him tending to your skin as you blabber about your day. Or the few rarities when he opens up, speaking of his insecurities. It shows how human he is; how he too, can feel.

It's another night at his dorm, your skin's worsened as of late and Vil's ordered you to give him a visit. You sit at his vanity, the light's so bright that it could blind you, but what truly blinds you is Vil himself in all his glory. His dampened hair, the ends the color of wisteria, and the scent of patchouli just makes you want to melt right then and there. He strides over with a new product in his hand, carefully beginning to massage your face with it.

"I love you."

The words come out instantly, his hands stopping in motion as his violet eyes widen. A sheepish blush coats your face as you realize what you said. Your breath hitches, the fear of rejection drilling into your mind, and your heart drumming against your chest.

"That's quite bold of you, sweet potato.."

He lets out a small chuckle, eyes holding content. He leans closer before flicking you on the forehead gently.

"I love you too."

ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.

The buzz of video games, the stench on junk food, and an interest for oddities. Idia Shroud was a wallflower, yet you'd managed to befriend him, something he's truly grateful for- your presence. He liked you. You understood him, you never belittled him for what he enjoyed, in fact, you encouraged him to continue. No matter how good or bad you were at a game, you'd play alongside him. It didn't matter whether you enjoyed his rambles, you'd listen no matter what, before babbling on and on about something of your own interest. Nights like this, filled with games, reading manga, watching anime, and spending time with you- he never wanted these to end.

You were brave, so unlike him. You had no magic, still you managed to show courage, to fight against overblots. How he wished he was you, no, how he wished he was yours. The realization hit him like a truck in an isekai, quickly and out of nowhere. When he figured he liked you, he didn't let you anywhere near him for a week- opting to hide in his room and not leave. It took some convincing from Ortho and also the fact that you may dislike him if he ignored you, before he opened his doors for you once again. Nevertheless, he was skittish, averting his gaze from your face, and sitting on the other end of the couch when you visited. That worried you, you were sure you'd messed up big time and he became uneasy around you because of it. Thankfully everything became normal after two weeks, he was sure he wouldn't be able to recover.

The truth was, you liked him too. It was weird and something unforeseen, you both started out as friends- you'd visit his dorm, play games all night, munch on junk together, and then laugh at all the cringe characters in the current anime you both were binging on. Right now, you were experiencing that cheesy crush from a shoujo manga, and the feeling was messing with your brain.

The gloomy boy you pined for was everything but dreamy, somehow, that's what made him so charming to you. Hair an electric blue that flared up like flames, pale skin akin to porcelain, and eyes yellow like daffodils. His physicality was mesmerizing but there was so much more to his character too. He was passionate about what he enjoyed, jabbering on for hours about his interest, something that you didn't mind one bit. He was competitive, striking a triumphant grin whenever he'd win a game against you. He's prideful too, his creations making him an utter genius. At the same time, he held such emotion, a man who would never judge for he himself experienced the badmouthing of others.

There's just something about Idia, something that makes your cheeks flare up. You're not sure if he notices how his presence can make you skittish, how you become timid when he's near, and how divine he seems to you. He never notice how he makes you feel, how ironic that you become just like him when he's near.

Just like the usual, you're cooped up in his dorm alongside him. You've been binging an anime for the past few hours and the way he's so focused on the characters while you're so focused on him, it bothers you. He feels so close yet so far and the fact that you're having such thoughts about the whole situation, makes you feel stupid.

"I love you.."

You immediately pause at your own words, Idia pauses the show too. There's a long silence in the room and before you know it, Idia's moved far away from you. His hair's become an electric pink and his eyes are wide.

"W-w-w-what..!?"

He exclaims the words as if he's animated, the feeling of fluster surging throughout him. Were you playing a joke on him? This wasn't right, it couldn't be. His gaze averts the other way every time you look at him and he won't admit it, but he really hopes you're not joking.

"I love you, Idia."

You say again, softer this time and you yourself look the other way, peachy blush coating your face. You're cursing yourself for speaking up, palms sweaty and clammy. You feel dizzy and your breathing is erratic , the feeling's mutual. The room's silent again, no one says anything and the only sound either of you can hear is the buzz of the computer.

"I...I...I dove, no, love you too.."

He mutters out, fumbling his words while he does. You both look at each other, shy gaze. Your lips form a small smile, making Idia's hair flare an even brighter pink. His face is rosy and he'd rather not look at you but you're just so pretty that he can't help but look.

You're not sure how it things fell in place but he accepted your confession, and now you've somehow managed to cuddle up to him. He's stiff but that's fine, the mere fact that he's holding your hand tightly is enough to reassure you. That, and how smug he looks.

ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.

Child of man, you truly are peculiar. Malleus Draconia, the name alone makes millions, if not billions, tremble to the bone. He holds such unrivaled power that the thought alone is fearsome- he is fearsome.

A monster, that's what many would call him, but you don't. No one dares approach him as carelessly as you do, a bumbling smile on your lips as you walk next to him without a care in the world. Do you truly not know what he's capable of? 'Tsunotaro', that's what you've named him- quite bold of you, not that he minds. Please continue to enlighten him about human practices, he's interested in every thing you have to say.

Loneliness is a disease that he's suffered from since his childhood. It's second nature to be alone with his own presence, silence a bandage that covers but doesn't heal his wounds. Yet, the way you come to him, invite him to all your little events, how you choose him. How can he be lonely when he has you?

You, who is so bright like a star coated in gold- is he even allowed to go near you? It feels as if you'll break in his hands, yet you seem so brave, putting yourself in danger with a smile. You've got his heart in your hands and it hurts that you don't realize.

'Friend' was a word he grew to love, knowing the special bond you shared. Nevertheless, it's the same word that has caused Diasomnia to have horrible whether for the past week- you're a friend to many but a lover to none. Be his, child of man, he's the only one worthy enough to call you his.

Since the day of his realization, Malleus follows you as a second shadow would. Now, no one with ill intentions would dare approach what he's already considered his. Truly, how precious you are. Giving him small shiny pebbles you find, trying to tuck daisies into his hair but being unable to reach his head, and the times you try to tease him as a joke, making the silliest of faces. Please tell him that he's the only one who has the honor of seeing you in such various forms. Dragons are hoarders, you know? And he wants nothing but to hoard you all for himself.

Spending time with your Tsunotaro is always fulfilling. His knowledge on gargoyles, the depth in which he speaks of them and how little he knows of human interactions. It all makes your heart flutter, eliciting a smile on your lips. It's not difficult to have feelings for someone such as him, it comes naturally. He seems so intimidating, dangerous even and it's not that he's not- he is, but there's so much more to him. He's curious, always listening to what you have to say. He's sweet, always handing you gifts whether small or unimaginably grand. And the manner in which he speaks, the elegance he holds, he's just as charming as any prince in a book- if not more.

When you began actually having feelings for him, all his words seemed to make your mind all fuzzy. Could he really not tell how his vocabulary affected you? 'My dear', 'my love', and all other forms of endearments had become a usual, so much so, that it felt right.

You went on walks with him, spotting gargoyles and chatting about them. Sometimes you drag him to picnics with and he happily follows, letting you braid his ebony hair. Still, not everything you shared seemed friend-like, and if it was, you didn't want it to be. The way his emerald eyes gazed over you, how his touch lingered so gently, and how his lips brushed agains your ear when he said he'll keep you safe. It couldn't mean nothing, you didn't want it to.

A walk in a meadow at nighttime, how strange, but also the daily for you. You walk alongside Malleus, skittish and timid- this isn't how you usually act. The moon's peeking out from under the clouds and casting a silver sheen on all that it lands on. Fireflies scurry around slowly, the cool night air making you feel at ease- but it's not enough.

Your face is flushed and you won't meet his gaze, he's not sure what he did wrong. His frame towers behind you as you seem to walk quicker, increasing your pace. Hurt, that's what he feels; did you start seeing him as a monster too?

You can't leave, please- he'll beg if he has to, give you all of what he has and can create. Promise you'll stay, and don't ever leave.

Then you pause, turning around as you take deliberate steps towards him. You look up, your smaller frame covered by his daunting shadow.

"I love you, Tsunotaro."

You say with a certain melancholy in your voice, as if you know he'll reject you and your love. How could he ever think of rejecting? He'd rather pierce his own heart and bleed to death than ever think of rejecting any of your words.

His viridescent eyes widen, the glow of them seeming intense. His hands holds you in place gently, he seems to be staring at you, looking you as if you're the most fragile piece of glass. The words don't spill out of his lips and you look more desolate by the second- he seemingly can't speak, he's not sure if this is but a dream.

"I love you too, child of man. So much that you wouldn't believe it."

His hands wrap you in a desperate embrace, almost as desperate as the words he'd just managed to choke out. It was as if you would wither away if he let go, as if he was making sure you were not a dream.

Your own eyes widen, lips parting shock at his words. The night seems magical and his embrace is sincere. He pries away from you only to look at you more, all your expressions- please continue to show such faces to only him. Only he should see you like this, with your face flushed red and eyes widened as you stare at him as though he's the only man in the world. His hands seem shaky, unlike who he usually is.

No, he seems so vulnerable and you seem to be his vulnerability.

Everything seems alright when you're there, he doesn't feel loneliness; far from it, actually. He doesn't feel like a monster when you love him, when your own arms loosely wrap around his neck as you pull him in for a soft kiss- no, monster's don't get such luxuries.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

Note 3: I didn't expect the last part to get so much attention, thank you so much everyone. I greatly appreciate everyone's interactions with my posts! As of now, I'll be working on requests and maybe some other ideas! (I really hope this part 2 is good too)

1K notes · View notes

waves-against-a-cliff · 2 months ago

Text

After the End - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - You set up a wonderful maze for these trapped mice

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, self harm, injuries

Masterlist

Pateron, KoFi, and Throne

A/N: If you want chapters early then check out my Pateron or KoFi

It wasn't difficult to form a plan in your mind. First you'd draw some blood, the thing that led them to you in the first place. You'd make them go around in circles until they landed themselves in different traps along the way. And while they acted like mice in a maze you would observe as the scientist making notes.

You made a clean cut into the palm of your hand and winced at the bite of the blade. It was sharper than you thought and cut a bit deeper than you wanted. You sucked in a breath before you smeared some blood onto a tree.

You wandered your forest for what had to be at least two hours, clouds had gathered and had dimmed out the sun. It was a forewarning of snow to come and the wind had already started to pick up. You had made a very intricate maze for them, misled by your own blood no less.

Finally you began your long walk home, you pulled your coat tighter around you and stuffed your barely scabbed over hands into your pockets as the wind blew harder. Soon enough the snow would start to fall and they'd either have to try and find their way out of the forest, hunker down for the night and loose your foot prints or keep going through the snow and darkness.

Your omega purred at the idea of the warmest surviving all of this. Oddly, you found the idea of one of them, maybe even two, surviving just to be able to breed you oddly romantic. Instead of giving up or dying, they pushed through just to have you. A small rumble started in your chest as you thought back to the two brown eyed ones.

"Fucking hell," Ghost mumbled to himself, his ankle was twisted oddly and his ass hurt from the fall. Worse? The sky had started to shit out snow. They (Soap and Price) had the most genius plan of splitting up to try and find the omega. Ghost had caught onto her scent and followed it.

Followed it right into a bloody trap. It was at least 12 feet deep if he couldn't even touch the top while jumping and he could jump if he wanted to. He was stuck in a hole, with no idea on how to get out without help and he wasn't going to try and shout for it. God only knows how far away the rest are.

Fuck his head hurt like a bitch. He had to give the omega credit. She had set up her forest to be a fortress and a death trap. Pits, tripwires, all kinds of little tricks hidden away. Each step he had taken made him hold his breath.

He had heard a loud BOOM some miles away and very, very distantly Scottish yelling. Maybe he had gotten off lightly with a twisted ankle and was stuck in a pit for a while. Still, his inner alpha whined knowing his fellow packmates were likely in danger. His base urges didn't even care about the omega when his pack was getting hurt. He couldn't help but wonder how Price was doing.

Price was stuck upside down. He had caught a glimpse of the omega, who had turned her head towards him and wore a frankly smug look. He had tried to order her over but she stuck her fingers in her ears and walked away. All of the blood flow was ending up in his head and it made him feel sick. Worst? His knife had fallen out.

It laid on the snowy ground and mocked him. This was the fuckin' worst. Maybe he should have just let the omega be but that thought made his own alpha stir and snarl. This felt like some bizarre courtship ritual but instead of blankets and food it was surviving the omegas own traps.

If what he heard a while back from Soap was anything to go by, his Scottish sergeant was not having a walk in the park either. It sounded like an explosion and he hoped it wasn't very damaging.

He glanced over when he heard someone approach and Gaz emerged. "She has running in fucking circles Cap."

686 notes · View notes

feralgoblinqueen · 30 days ago

Text

I’m not the first to write something like this but here’s my spin on shifter!141.

*****

They had spent too long in their bestial forms. Time feels different when the wolf takes over, easier to lose track of and even harder to remember their human lives. By the time one of them remembers the house in the woods and its many acres that still needs a final payment under a fake name it’s too late.

They look on from the tree line, taking note of the changes made by the new owner. A budding flower garden in front of the house, well kept and just starting to show its spring colors. Around back a large vegetable patch was still green, nothing yet ready to harvest. The exterior had a fresh coat of paint and small repairs had been made. A single faded blue truck rumbled up the long and winding driveway. That’s when they first laid eyes upon you.

—————

“Abandoned, Selling As Is” was what the advertisement had read. No one else had wanted the plot of land hours away from civilization. For you, though, it was perfect. Somewhere to start over, to be alone and relearn who you are.

The rooms still held the previous owner’s belongings. Everything had been left untouched as if they just vanished one day. All men, you assumed, just from the sparse decor and the clothes left behind. Military, maybe, from how the beds were made with their sheets tucked into hospital corners. Paranoid loners, possibly even doomsday preppers, was another guess you made after discovering a gun safe hidden behind a false wall under the stairs.

It was almost a game, once a day trying a hand full of combinations to see if any worked. Something mindless to fill an unoccupied moment of time. That’s when you really started going through the papers and books left behind. Looking for any clues at what the code might be. A notepad left on the small hallway table is where you scribbled down all the combinations that hadn’t worked, in a meager attempt to not repeat yourself. A small mystery to add a little life to your loneliness.

At night is when things really come to life this far out into the wilderness. In the early days of owning the property, before you were able to get the satellite internet set up, you’d spend the evenings watching and listening on the back porch. Deer were the most common, using the wide open expanse of a backyard as a place to graze in the evenings. Owls silently swooping down on field mice before retreating to the trees once more. Coyotes, crickets, and night birds made a symphony of nature most nights.

The most exciting were the wolves. You could always hear them howling in the distance, calling to one another. They weren’t like the coyotes that cackled over one another in attempt to sound larger or more numerous than they actually were. These were direct calls and responses. Their vocalizations sounding almost melancholy, as if they were yearning for something that seemed just out of reach.

It was a quiet night when you finally decided to respond to their calls. The evening had been spent making supply lists for your trek into the nearest town in the morning. A large cooler had been thrown into the bed of your truck to store items intended for the refrigerator and deep freezer.

You sat on the tailgate, listening to the night song that seemed to encapsulate the peaceful valley you now owned. A celebratory drink held in one hand and a small, proud smile graces your lips. Your house was starting to feel like a real home and that was definitely worth celebrating.

The wolves that you had grown fond of, yet had never seen, were starting up. Your favorite night song. A melody that you could listen to for hours. One you had listened to for hours.

Four. You could make out four distinct calls at this point. Two were more vocal than others, their tones more playful. One was definitely the pack leader. His call the first and last each night, like a command or an order. And one was rarely heard, usually only short responses and never as loud as the others. But the valley always carried their calls to you, teaching you their voices. They were faceless friends in your solitude.

So you call out into the night. The long howl a poor imitation of theirs, straining your vocal cords.

The night grows still. All goes quiet. As the silence passes for a beat, then another, your smile slowly falters and fades. A pang of disappointment and a small bubble of guilt at interrupting their conversation.

All animals, even fierce predators, could be skittish. You worried that your call had scared them off, ruining your chances of ever spotting them. With a hop you jump off the tailgate, slamming it shut in frustration. Heavy feet stomping all the way onto the porch and inside. You could only hope they hadn’t heard your foolishness and that something else has quieted them.

The night remains silent as you crawl into bed. The night song ending early and sewing sadness into your dreams.

But they had heard you.

Your distinctly human howling calling to a dormant part of their minds. They remembered themselves. They remembered their life in the valley. They remembered the house where their human lives were lived.

And they were coming home.

607 notes · View notes

gummybugg · 11 months ago

Text

A scrapbook page I made for my oc Morgana from The Mice Come Out at Night ! I had a very fun time, I think yall should try it too :')

Morgana is the human (he/him)

grey mouse is Addison (he/him)

white mouse is Juniper (she/her)

spotted mouse is Vincent (he/him)

#the mice come out at night #mouse wip #art #traditional art #scrapbook #collage #you cant see it but his glasses are metallic #the o is a mirror #very important yes yes #my art #artists on tumblr #oc artwork

5 notes · View notes

rose-tea-and-strawberries · 8 months ago

Text

Of Lions and Mice

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Reader is intended to be female

Masterlist

Leona was annoyed.

Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him.

But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane.

He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.

How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.

Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.

“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”

“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”

Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?

“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”

“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.

You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”

Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.

“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”

“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.”

“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”

“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”

“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”

Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all.

“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””

It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of.

He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not.

“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””

“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”

“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”

“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.

“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”

“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry.

“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.

“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”

Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”

And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”

“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”

“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”

“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”

And that’s the end,” you say.

“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”

“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”

He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”

“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”

And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.

#leona kingscholar x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fem reader

1K notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 19 days ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"HALLOWEEN PARTIES"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of possible future pregnancy, lots of suggestive conversation and making out. not edited. upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 9.9k+ → a/n: @take-everything-you-can plagued me with thoughts of what our idiots would get up to on halloween, and i just couldn't help myself. it definitely spiraled out of control though. my bad. ALSO, QUICK DISCLAIMER: please if you get a snake don't do what reader and eddie did. snakes a homebodies. we are just going to pretend it's okay in this context for the name of fiction, alright? obligatory snake owner ramble over. let's GO.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

The thumping of the bass was audible before you’d even exited the elevator fully.

Any other day of the year, you’d assume your group of friends would be earning an instant noise complaint for the volume of the music coming from behind Steve and Robin’s apartment front door. But it wasn’t just any other day – it was Halloween, and somewhere amongst the rhythm of what surely had to be Steve blasting Abba, you could make out fellow neighbors playing music just as loudly.

If anything, the overly quiet apartments were more concerning than the noisy ones.

“Do you think Lestat is going to do okay with the music?” Eddie suddenly frets, one hand reaching to tug on what little fabric there was of his costume. It almost made you smile, a reminder of what exactly your usually ‘scary’ boyfriend was donning.

Britney Spears, circa 2001. One of her most iconic VMA performances.

He’d decided it the moment you two had come home several months ago with the most important accessory that was draped around his neck – a juvenile ball python named Lestat, who looked surprisingly content as he hung onto Eddie’s shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you hum, looking over at Eddie, a little bit concerned now that he’d brought it up, “Maybe it’s a bad idea-”

“I’m texting Nance to turn the music down.”

“What if it freaks him out?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“What if he gets stressed and bites you, Eddie?”

To any onlooker, the sight of you might have been a bit funny. Furrowed brows, arms crossed, sticky blood spread out across your stomach and sternum.

The theme tonight for the two of you had been iconic performances. Eddie insisted, and part of you knew he was just afraid to dress up so extravagantly all alone when it came to this small get-together, but you hadn’t hesitated to pull together your own version of Lady Gaga’s iconic VMA performance from 2009. If you two were going to commit to a theme this year, you were committing.

Eddie balances his phone in one hand, typing with a single thumb. Impressive, given his history of ardently avoiding owning a smart phone. His other hand trails up to his collarbone, sneaking a careful finger below Lestat’s head, holding him up and pouting his lip a little, “This little guy? Biting me? He would never.”

The sight was cute. Obnoxiously, overly, endearingly cute.

“He’s still a snake,” you try to argue, stopping right outside of apartment 34C. The music was more clear now as it switched from whatever Abba tune had been playing to Maneater by Nelly Furtado, “If he gets scared enough, he might.”

“I’d hardly call him a snake,” Eddie snorts, shoving his phone back into his pocket, smiling as he tilts his chin to awkwardly stare at the snake now carefully slithering over his knuckles, “Dude misses the mice on his first strike every time we feed him. And if there was ever a time he was going to bite me, it would have been when I was taking that moss out of his mouth as he was eating.”

That earns a huff of a laugh from you as well. The image of Eddie on Monday night, absolutely losing his mind as he’d noticed that Lestat had gotten his mouse entangled in some of the moss decorating his enclosure, not even hesitating to open the tank once more and throw his hand in right along with the tongs to prevent your new ‘son’ from ingesting it, crosses your mind. It hadn’t mattered how much you reassured him that it was probably normal in the wild, that Lestat’s body could certainly handle it. Eddie had been insistent and blinded by what could only be described by paternal instinct.

If you’d asked yourself last Halloween if that had been where you see your life heading in a year’s time, you would have rolled your eyes.

“You do realize how dumb that was of you, right?” you insist, remembering your fear and the way your breath had caught in the moment. It was funny now, but you’d never gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tighter than when he’d recklessly done so. You loved the snake, you really did, but you’d realized in that moment you might still love Eddie just a little bit more.

The conversation is cut short as it’s clear that Nancy had received Eddie’s text, the music behind the door quieting a bit along with a change of song.

Your jaw nearly drops, “You did not make Nancy do that.”

The opening notes of I’m a Slave 4 U were impossible to miss.

“I did.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Are you gonna insult me the entire night, or let me make my iconic entrance?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, Eddie carefully passing by you, Lestat’s head bouncing a little as it passes a bit closer to your face than you would have been comfortable with a few months ago.

The snake, funnily enough, had even been your idea to begin with. Your want, your desperate argument you’d wasted countless breaths upon while getting ready for bed with Eddie.

It’ll be fun, you’d whined to Eddie as you’d both crawled into bed, we even have the space in the living room.

Sweetheart, you’re fucking terrified of snakes, Eddie had easily rebuttalled. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop you from huffing like a petulant child.

That’s an exaggeration, you argued right back.

Your hands had still shook ferociously that first day of bringing home the snake when you’d been the one to move him from the small container the store had placed him and into the full fifty gallon tank now occupying a fairly large chunk of the apartment’s living room.

You’re still lost in your head as the door swings open for Eddie right as the first chorus of the song begins. He’s dramatic, fully committed, a glimmer of who he must have been in high school shining right through as he struts confidently into your friends’ apartment.

A version of Eddie you somehow missed despite never having met. You almost wonder if you would have still ended up here if you’d met then; you almost wonder if you would have still ended up at each other’s throats inevitably, even in those days.

You probably would have. You secretly hope that it all would have still happened exactly as it has.

“No fucking way!”

Robin is the first voice you can hear excitedly shriek out a reaction to Eddie, followed by a sharp hush from Nancy. They’re deeper in the apartment, out of your line of sight. You can hear Jonathan’s muttered response lost in the music, and you can smell Argyle’s presence rather than hear or see it.

Weed had been expected, but Steve and Robin were strict in their rule of only partaking on the balcony.

“Yes fucking way,” Eddie responds, clearly giddy. You finally trail in behind him, not necessarily shy but certainly not nearly as extravagant as he had been. You hang back a bit, biting back a grin, just admiring your boy.

All warmth, rosey cheeks spread wide in his boyish grin, eyes bright as he wiggles his brows as Robin.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Robin whispers as she rushes forward, glancing over her shoulder, clearly looking for Steve before she leans it a tad bit closer towards Lestat.

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” Eddie snarkily replies, moving to slowly remove the snake from his neck.

“Language,” you jokingly scold him, reaching out to take the snake from his hands as he brings it to his chest, giving Robin a closer look at the nearly-glimmering pale scales of your pet. Almost instinctively, he starts to pull the animal away, but once he sees the look on your face, he’s quick to hand him over. “No cursing around our son.”

Nancy finally walks up, still no sign of Steve as she joins your side and Lestat wraps his body slowly around your wrist, “Oh my God, don’t tell me you also refer to this thing as your child.”

“This thing?” Eddie huffs, more offended than you, “Nance, he has a name.”

Robin has gravitated towards you now, entirely captivated by the ball python, eyes shimmering as she lets out the smallest gasps and squeals under her breath, “What’s his name?”

“Lestat,” you whisper, watching Nancy and Eddie grow closer and clearly get more immersed in their own private conversation, “But Eddie wanted to name him Frodo.”

“Frodo,” Robin chuckles a little, looking at you questioningly as she holds out a timid finger. You give her a nod, moving a thicker part of the snake’s body to face her rather than the head, “Sounds like Eddie.”

It did indeed. Once the bickering of whether or not you two would even get the snake to begin with had faded, the entire argument of what its name would be had started up. Eddie wanted the snake to be named after his favorite books – you wanted to name the snake after your most recent reads.

You’d clearly won. At the sacrifice of promising the inevitable first of many cats you and Eddie would eventually have be named Frodo instead. But you’d still won.

Robin’s eyes finally leave the snake long enough to take in your own outfit, and you hadn’t realized it was possible for the girl’s grin to widen, “Wait - are you dressed as Lady Gaga from her Paparazzi performance?”

“Oh, my dear Birdie,” you coo out the endearment, shivering slightly as the cool body of the snake continues to slither up near your elbow, “This night is just getting started.”

—

You were right. The night had just begun.

The first few hours pass fairly chaotically. A languid and rapid mixing of everyone excitedly catching up on each other’s lives, various drinks beginning to be concocted. Some delicious, and some spurring gags from others simply from the description of the hard liquor that had gone into them.

Argyle had managed to lure many of the group out onto the patio at various intervals to partake in the devil’s lettuce, as he had proudly proclaimed it. Nancy and Jonathan had figured out a way to set up a makeshift karaoke party in the living room, lyrics for songs being displayed on the main TV. And Steve, for all his attentive hospitality as the one of the co-hosts of the night, had remained painfully oblivious.

Eddie had gone behind his back when it came to bringing Lestat. Steve had made it clear when the two of you had purchased the puppy in reptile form that he wanted nothing to do with the python, while the rest of the group had been easily intrigued – especially Robin. And so once Eddie had decided upon his Britney outfit, the next logical step had been securing Lestat’s attendance at the party. He hadn’t texted Steve - or Nancy, as a matter of fact - but rather Robin.

The girl hadn’t even taken a minute to respond, overly enthusiastic to meet the snake.

Everyone had slowly become a part of a more silent bet as the night dragged on, and for once, you and Eddie were on the betting side of it all. The drinks were poured, the weed was smoked, the music was sung along to painfully off-key, and Steve never once noticed the snake that was frequently wrapped around various parts of yours and Eddie’s body.

The quick exchanges probably didn’t help. When Steve needed your help in the kitchen at one point, you’d smoothly handed Lestat over to Eddie in passing. When Eddie had agreed to join Jonathan and Argyle on the balcony at one point, he’d easily and carefully draped the snake across the nape of your neck from behind the couch. Hell, you’d even spent a good five minutes engrossed in a conversation with Steve, all the while Lestat had been comfortably coiled around your bicep opposite the man.

As the hours passed by, you found yourself wanting to be caught.

Your phone pings suddenly as you bury yourself deeper into the leather couch, giggling over Steve’s current rendition of What’s New Scooby Doo?.

You shuffle carefully to pull it from where you’d wedged it against your hip, trapped weakly by your white bottoms speckled with glittery blood.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: I want a cigarette :-(

You do a double take of the contact name, blinking rapidly before you finally connect the dots.

YOU: when the hell did you change your contact name in my phone?

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: Unimportant.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: Do you think if I hand Lestat off to you right now that Steve would notice?

Your eyes flick up as the song ends, Robin having jumped up to finish off the performance with Steve, the two of them a mess of flailing limbs clinging to each other and joyful laughter bubbling out of them for unknown reasons.

Well, partially unknown reasons. One of them was surely the strange concoction the two of them had chugged at some point in the night that had included both watermelon flavored vodka and green apple whiskey. That had been one you’d cringed and stuck your tongue out at.

YOU: 50/50 chance. And NOT unimportant btw, what’s my name in YOUR phone?

Just as Eddie exits the bathroom, Steve perks up at the sound of the door and distant flush, removing himself entirely from Robin’s embrace, “Fuckin’ finally! I have to piss.”

Everyone holds their breath as he rushes past Eddie, but he still remains completely unaware of the snake that Eddie is carrying.

The slam of the door times perfectly with Eddie’s collapse onto the couch next to you, a shy and guilty grin already gracing his face before you even begin bursting at the seams with continuing the text conversation face-to-face.

“Seriously,” you waste no time, turning to him quickly and your knee easily overlapping his thigh as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, “When did you change your name in my phone, asshole?”

He takes his time answering, pulling on the ridiculously small jean shorts he wears as his shoulders quiver with the effort of holding in his laughter, “Words hurt, baby.”

You hate the way nicknames as simple as baby can send still shivers down your spine.

“You couldn’t have at least been a little more creative? Like, world’s hottest boyfriend? C’mon, you can be more clever than that, surely.”

It’s easy to do this, to egg him on and prod at his ego in the softest of ways. It’s also always been a dead giveaway to him that he’s gotten under your skin.

“My name with a pretty black heart next to it just wasn’t cutting it anymore,” he pouts exaggeratedly, leaning into your space a bit, holding the snake a careful distance away as he looks into your eyes and a suspiciously jubilant look crosses his face, “What would you have preferred?”

“Something shorter,” you breathe out, feeling some of the alcohol coursing through your veins now, making your headswim as you suck in the scent of his cologne heavy in the space between you, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, if I’m being honest.”

“It is,” he nods, and his lips spread salaciously, pupils growing just a tad bit wider before he delivers a devastating blow, “But we both know you can take it, can’t you, baby?”

Damn him. Fuck him. Send him all the way down to the depths of Hell, for all you care.

He’s caught on to a clear game he can play now that you’re tipsy, one that he certainly has the upper hand in, and you can’t tell if the night ending in him winning it would actually spell your loss. You swear, you can already feel his hands on your hips, tearing off the costume you’d spent several weeks carefully sewing sequins into, his lips getting sticky with all the fake blood across your torso, his-

Huh. Never had you realized yourself to be such a horny drunk.

“Now I need a cigarette,” you grumble, leaning away from him, trying to break whatever spell he was casting. None of your friends’ have even noticed the interaction happening on the couch, saving you from eternal embarrassment.

If you’d had less pinot noir and shots of Fireball whiskey in your veins, you’d probably still find the decency in you to be self-conscious at toying with these things in public. Maybe scold him, maybe douse out whatever flames he was attempting to ignite.

Eddie leans back as well, clearly satisfied with himself as he lifts Lestat up to preoccupy himself by pretending to study the lightened coloring of the snake. Mostly white, with splatterings of a traditional morph at random across the body. The woman who had sold the snake to the two of you had referred to it as a piebald. If you had been shopping with an actual breeder rather than a reputable rescue, he would have cost an arm and a leg.

Luck had been on your side the day you’d stumbled upon the snake. You wish luck was still on your side tonight.

Eddie sticks out the tip of his tongue to mimic the snake a few times before he focuses on you again, “You know, we could always see if Robin wants to watch him while we both go grab one.”

You have no clue how the girl had heard him from across the living room, but she suddenly appears at his side, just as eager in appearance as her original text giving the blessing to bring Lestat had been.

“Did someone say I could hold the snake?” she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet, looking down with utter fascination, “Please tell me you guys just said I could hold the little guy. When you first got him, I did a ton of research so I’d know proper handling tips, and also how to know if he gets too stressed. Also I may or may not have been nervous about how often they bite, but I found out that-”

“They don’t bite,” Eddie interrupts with reassurance, offering a small smile as he looks up to her, “At least, not very often. You usually have to aggravate them pretty badly, or catch them on a really shit day for them to strike.”

It had been a huge selling point in convincing him. Ball pythons were docile in nature, and they’d be quicker to match up to their namesake by balling up than actually strike out at someone.

Of course, the day you had been informing of this, you had no idea he was already aware of it. He knew they didn’t bite, he knew the specifics of what a habitat for them needed, he knew their dietary needs – he’d already had an Amazon shopping cart filled with supplies after the first time you brought the snake up to him, unbeknownst to you.

“Yeah,” Robin nods ferociously, hands reaching out carefully, already more than prepared to take the snake, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hand over the baby and go do whatever debauchery you two are clearly wanting to get up to.”

“We aren’t getting up to debauchery!” you try to defend the two of you, watching Eddie carefully uncurl Lestat from his arm to pass him into Robin’s waiting hands, “Eddie just wants a cigarette and-”

“And you want to join him and probably get in some hot and steamy makeout sessions, right?” Robin finishes your sentence for you, quirking an eyebrow for a second before letting out a whisper of a squeal when Lestat takes to her quickly. His tail wraps around the length of her wrist and you’re shocked as you watch him stay just as curious as he had been while held by you and Eddie. A tad bit more reserved, but no sign of balling up any time soon.

Eddie stands from the couch, patting his largest back pocket to ensure his pack of cigarettes and lighter are still safely tucked into it, and you know it’s useless to keep arguing with Robin. She’s entirely entrapped by the snake in her hands now, whispering in a high-pitched tone that surprisingly doesn’t seem to bother Lestat. All her coos nearly resemble baby-talk. It’s cute – sort of. A direct mirror of how you and Eddie have been acting at home when you handle the ball python.

You stand slower than Eddie had, hawk eyes still glued to your friend, “Just- Just be careful, okay? Avoid touching his head, and don’t wave your hands around too much while talking, because it can scare him. He also might try and crawl up to your hair because Eddie lets him hide in his at home, and sometimes he’ll pull on it because it sticks to him, so just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie stresses, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving your bicep opposite from him a quick squeeze, “She’ll be fine.”

Robin nods, clearly only half listening to the debate as she watches Lestat wander up her arm in clear wonder.

It sort of does feel like Lestat is your actual human child, as though you’re leaving your toddler with a babysitter for the first time.

Eddie tugs you deeper into his side, musky cinnamon and boyish charm filling your nose as he leans down and murmurs, “C’mon.”

A Ghost song starts to thump over the speakers as you allow Eddie to guide you over to the sliding door beside the kitchen, the layout different and even a tad bit nicer than your own apartment. It’s odd, the view of the kitchen being clearer than the living room, the exact opposite of how your home is.

Home. Even in your tipsy state, even after so much time having living with Eddie and even going as far as to now own a pet with him, the notion fills you with warmth.

Maybe you’re actually a sentimental drunk.

As the two of you pass by Argyle, he briefly lifts his head, cherry-shaded eyes peering up excitedly until Eddie quickly shakes his head, making the poor man sink back against the loveseat that he occupies with Jonathan and Nancy. You almost feel bad, but it’s clear Argyle is too far gone to even feel disappointment right now.

“After you, m’lady,” Eddie chivalrously slides the door open for you, half-bowing and putting on a half-assed British accent as he sweeps his arm for you to exit onto the balcony first.

“It’s Lady Gaga to you,” you snark as you slip out into the crisp Autumn air, cheeks cooling instantly.

“Oh,” the door slides shut with a soft thud behind Eddie as he joins you, face immediately covered by the shadows of the evening, “My apologies.”

It’s nice out. Far nicer than any October has been in the city in what feels like years. The air is refreshing, dare you even say sobering, and the city lights below wink at you as you hear all the distant noises of life. Car horns, children’s laughter, music from other parties. It sounds as though one of the neighbors below is blasting heavy rap, and you swear you can hear the trill of a radio pop song from your left.

Beer, cider, pumpkin spice – it all fills the air. It’s Halloween, and it’s nice.

The breeze is electric with all the livelihood, sending goosebumps up your arms as you approach the railing, looking out across a night sky painted some sort of faded cross between navy and grey rather than a stark black of midnight.

It all turns to static the moment Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, heavy pack of cigarettes in his palm as his lips find solace in one of the few bare patches of skin on your shoulder.

“God, I love Halloween,” he murmurs against you, his breath hot as it catches across your costume.

God, I love you.

You can’t help the cheesy thought as a hand comes up to grip Eddie’s forearm, giving three short squeezes, pulling him just a tad bit closer. But it’s true – Halloween was wonderful, you’d always enjoyed any excuse to get together with your friends and family, but it had never felt quite like this.

Planning cliche dates during the season, movie marathons spent cuddling up with your other half rather than sitting across on a couch from friends. Kisses in the pumpkin patch. Cider on his lips. Putting up decorations and ending up chasing each other around the apartment, landing in a pile of limbs that slot against one another perfectly. Arguing about which decorations should go on the balcony, which garland to line your front door with.

It wasn’t a replacement for spending time with your friends. And there were still crude jokes, still bickering over timing of plans and locations to visit. It still felt like spending the holiday with friends – it was spending it with your best friend.

Eddie Munson. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The sentiment is unexpected to past you, but so entirely welcome by the you currently enveloped in his embrace.

“I used to insist on spending Halloween alone, you know,” you mumble as his chin digs in the point where your shoulder connects to your neck, vision blurring as you continue to stare out at the tiny busy streets, “Just, like, lay around in my dorm. Watch shitty horror movies on my laptop until I got too scared and had to find some dumb comedy to help me sleep. It was the only day of the year where my roommate sort of acknowledged my existence. She was the one who’d go out, and she’d get all this candy and share it with me.”

You don’t know the point of your rambling, but Eddie is listening intently anyways.

You turn carefully in his arms, now mesmerized by how his face looks in the warm glow of the seasonal lights Robin and Steve had put up. Shades of orange flickering across his amber eyes, shadows making all his sharpness in his features more prominent.

“Talking about it now sounds kind of boring,” you muse, laughing a bit dryly, “The most festive thing I would do was going to the Halloween store with Robin and Steve once they opened.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, arms still tangled around you, grinning gently, “I don’t think that’s too boring.”

“It was,” you insist, pressing just a little closer to him, “God, it was so boring. Not going to the store with those idiots – I mean, that was pretty fun. But it was nothing compared to setting up a snake habitat, or carving pumpkins with you. Now I can watch whatever slasher you want before bed, and I still sleep just fine, cause I’ve got you to protect me.”

His smile matches your own – radiant, proud, happy.

“Oh, definitely,” he nods once, twice. So sure, ego inflated for the bit, “Any scary men with a chainsaw dare to break into our apartment, and I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Our apartment. The perfect ring to it.

“Didn’t you scream about that spider in our apartment yesterday? Like, full on squeal, hopping up onto the couch, begging me to save you-”

He cuts off all your teasing, even though it was true, with a kiss. Simple, strong, sure. Fingers dancing under your chin to pull you up to him, meeting you halfway and not even hiding his smile at your antics as he effectively shuts you up.

“We agreed to not talk about that,” he mumbles against your lips, tasting like the last shot of whiskey he took with Nancy.

“You agreed to not talk about it,” you pester back, trying to pull away from his kiss. But his other hand comes up, trapping your face between both his palms, and it’s a useless effort, “I just promised to not immediately share the photo of you up on the couch with everyone.”

Half the words are hardly articulate as his lips continue to nip at yours, struggling from your wide smile and the way your entire body is shaking from your giggles. You can feel the cold metal of the railing brushing your exposed lower back, a breeze picking up that can be blamed for the goosebumps racing down your spine rather than Eddie’s wandering hand. It’s not devourment, it’s not desperation, it’s not Earth-shattering.

It’s something like mending. Something like a promise.

Living together, celebrating the holidays together, owning a pet together – they were all baby steps leading to something even brighter in the future. An unspoken truth between the both of you. An inevitable crescendo to all that had been built.

Eddie whines a bit when you pull away again, but this time, your forehead stays pressed to his. A joint effort between the way you tilt your head and the way his hands press you against him.

“Do you remember the last time we were on a balcony together?” you ask in a low whisper, trying to mimic the same suggestive tone that he’s always been able to put on at the drop of a hat.

You’re not quite as talented as him. You’re actually just a giggly drunk.

His brows furrow, “What? This morning?”

“No.”

“Two nights ago, when you insisted Lestat needed to see the moon?”

“No.”

“Are you talking about the afternoon we had a redo of our pumpkin carving contest? Because I still won again, fair and square, ba-”

“I’m talking about the bet, you idiot.”

His fingertips press a bit deeper into your flesh, his lips forming a wobbly ‘o’ as he stares down at you, “How was I supposed to know you were referring to that? That was definitely not the last time we were on a balcony together-”

You shut him up with the same courtesy as he had done to you, adding in a roll of your eyes before your hands wrap around his neck to pull him into you. This time, you make it hot and heavy. Lips and teeth and tongues, grabby hands from the both of you making their way across all the exposed skin and scraps of costumes you two wear. It takes Eddie aback at first, clearly not expecting the sudden passion, but he recovers quickly.

He remembers exactly what you’re referring to quickly.

Your back collides a bit harsher with the railing as he rolls his body up against yours, not a breath of space between the two of you as he wedges his knee between your thighs. You have no idea where his pack of cigarettes has vanished to, but you don’t care. All you really care about is the way he’s holding you, the way he’s suffocating you, the way he’s watering you.

It’s hard to believe the garden within that he’s nurtured at your side for the last year was ever something broken. That there was once a time it was nothing more than dried vines and pathetic blossoms begging to see the light of day. Now, the warmth of a thousand suns was gifted to you every morning you awoke to his smile. Every joke, every small caring act, every kiss stolen just because one of you felt like it. You two may have accidentally killed that first plant you bought the week you moved in properly with him, but this?

You can’t imagine a day where the two of you ever might let this die off.

His lips break from yours, predictably painting a path along your jaw as he murmurs, “I think I do remember. But, just in case – wanna remind me?”

And for a second, you almost do.

All your coils are tight across your body, burning in your abdomen and shaking in your knees, but all it takes is the faintest movement of a shadow to remember all your friends inside the apartment still.

“We can’t,” you whisper, as if they might hear you in the glass, trying to pry yourself away from him just as his teeth start to graze your neck, “Seriously - we can’t.”

Eddie chuckles lowly against your neck, and you know exactly why.

You’d started this without even considering the consequences.

“Started something you can’t finish, didn’t ya, baby?”

Oh, damn him. That stupid low and teasing tone. That dimple you can feel brush against your skin as he moves his mouth to the other side of your neck. All the heat in your body travels south, pooling between your hips, aching for him to go against your wishes to avoid embarrassment and just finish this.

He doesn’t, though. You’re starting to believe he’s less drunk than you are, a clearer mind than your own with far more sensibility than he seems capable of most of the time. His lips leave your neck, his hands finding the polite placement of hovering over your hips. The fog is starting to clear, if only just the slightest bit, and-

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

He’s not sensible. That wicked hand placement was nowhere near polite. In an instant, he’s latched onto you tightly and spun you around, quickly bending you over against the railing so your chest presses into the metal and the cold sends shockwaves across your entire body. Your ass is pressed to his crotch and one hand holds you securely, tight enough that he can be sure you won’t fall, as the other crawls up your back at impeccable speed to press you further down.

Immediately, you’re squealing, “Eddie!”

His laughter is just as loud as all your protests as you come face-to-face with the true height of a three-story balcony, knuckles paling from gripping onto the bars.

You’d hate him for it, but you feel the security of his palm and knuckles around your waist, and you know he’s not letting you go anywhere over that railing. He’s hardly even allowing your head to hang over it.

The moment you start to lean back up against his hand on your back, he’s allowing it immediately. There’s no friction or fight as you stand up straight once more, back against his chest and your hands already prepared to swing back to smack him before both of his arms come up around your shoulders and cross your chest.

“You asshole,” you gasp out, flailing hands deciding to grip strongly onto his forearms as he cradles you up in the tight embrace from behind, still chucking in your ear as you both take several steps back. Your heart pounds, and you’re pretty sure your nails are biting into his skin.

Maybe they’ll leave a mark – you hope they sort of hurt.

“Just had to make sure you really do remember that night,” he jokes, trying to lean his head far enough over your shoulder to get a good look at your face, “I think the bars would have been a bit more exposing, though, yeah?”

Your nails dig in deeper, and his grin widens.

Bastard.

“What if I had fallen?” you snap, finding it hard to be mad at him. Those damned strong arms around you, the thump of his own heart right against the space between your shoulder blades, that fucking dimple.

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

If the two of you had children some day, would they have his dimples?

“We’re both drunk-”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“-And I’m pretty sure this balcony isn’t up to OSHA standards-”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t.”

“-And you almost left our poor son motherless,” you finish off with a forced scowl, shaking off his embrace to face him properly, “Are you prepared for that? Were you prepared to be a single father?”

God, you hate his fucking smile. God, you hope if you have real kids someday, they have that same shit-eating grin.

With a pout of his lips, he steps back up to you, looking down tauntingly, “You’re right, baby. I didn’t even think about poor Lestat.”

You hum, standing your ground, but your defenses are quickly crumbling. Your mind is running with too many thoughts, exhausting itself over everything except the residing anger you should feel at your absolute nuisance of a boyfriend.

The feeling of being held down by him in that position once more. How the heat of his body had warmed you, and you’d only noticed now that the cool air was attacking your exposed back. Swimming in the visions of what color eyes your children might have, pigtail curls of a little girl with Eddie’s defiance or a little boy who wears his shit-eating grin as he exhibits your same unbreakable curiosity.

You definitely shouldn’t have drank so much tonight. It doesn’t matter what kind of drunk you are – it was a bad idea regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice takes you out of your thoughts as he slides his arms around your waist, always needing to be touching you, clingy to a ridiculous degree.

You weren’t complaining, though. How could you? If given the option, you’d make a home out of his bones in a fraction of a heartbeat as well.

“Nothin’,” you lie through a sigh, head tilted dramatically, much preferring to focus on the ginger contours of Eddie’s cheeks than whatever future Jack Daniels had been painting in your mind.

“Bullshit,” he doesn’t hesitate to call you out on it. And it’s not the alcohol fueling his boldness – it’s just how he is. He knows you better than the back of his hand, the roof of his mouth, his favorite songs on guitar. He knows you. “You got this dreamy look in your eyes, and you’re staring so hard over my shoulder, I’m almost scared I’ll turn around to see a ghost in the window-”

Jack Daniels will be your arch nemesis after tonight, the culprit behind the way the words suddenly tumble out of your mouth, “Do you think we’ll have kids someday?”

You wait for the air to leave the space between the two of you with the same urgency it’s left your lungs. You wait for a crack in the air, a chasm to suddenly appear. It’s heavy – God, it’s a heavy question to suddenly ask your boyfriend of one year at a Halloween party. You’re both drunk on your friends’ balcony, and you were having a perfectly sweet moment, and you’d just gone and ruined it. And to top it all off, Eddie was still just smiling, and-

Wait.

Eddie was smiling.

The air was still there, filling his lungs with calm breaths. No sign of fear within his twinkling eyes. No chasm squeezing between the stitches holding you two together.

He’s just smiling.

“Is that really what you were thinking about?” he quietly asks.

You almost don’t want to answer. You almost want to force out cackles of fake laughter, to double over and face the ground rather than his humored expression.

“Yeah.”

Maybe he doesn’t believe you yet, maybe he has to double check before he breaks out into his own laughter. Maybe the alcohol in both your veins is just delaying the inevitable that you’d been originally expecting.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe not.

Instead of laughter, instead of mocking you, he keeps a cheery expression as he shrugs softly, “I mean, maybe? I sort of hope so. And, don’t get me wrong, I know a kid is a pretty far leap from a snake, but I’d say we make a pretty good team at keeping living things…. Well, living, y’know? Besides, I solemnly swear I won’t try to name our kids after Tolkien. I’ll reserve those names for the pets.”

All the air leaves your lungs again, but this time, it’s a little less painful, “What?”

“Annie’s a cute name,” he continues on, completely unphased. It’s nearly impossible to remember that you were the one who had started such a serious conversation about the future, “I also like the name Parker. I remember you mentioned that one once, right? Something about being able to nickname the kid Pac-Man, I’m pretty sure. I think that’d be pretty sick.”

And oh, was he right. You had mentioned the name Parker once. Just not to him. Not directly, at least.

The entire ridiculous make-believe scenario had come to you during a girls’ night, after one too many glasses of wine and Nancy bringing up the topic. You, her, and Robin had all spent a good hour coming up with names for children and the best nicknames to suit them. Some had been genuine, and some had been for nothing more than shits and giggles.

Parker, and the nickname Pac-Man, had been serious for you. Parker Anthony. You hadn’t figured out a second middle name to complete the initial acronym of Pac that night, the rosé eventually getting to you, but you had been serious.

“You were listening that night?” you breathe out, only feeling slightly betrayed, “What the Hell? I thought you said you were going to put your headphones on and listen to some Metallica to unwind after work.”

“I lied,” he cheeses, hot palms against your barren lower back, “I’m nosey. Sue me.”

“You could have just joined us, Eddie.”

“And miss the chance to hear you plot out the middle names of our future children?” Eddie snorts, “Not a chance, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, you wonder if it’s possible for a heart to burst from optimism.

“So,” you pause, take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment creep back up your throat, “Is that, uh…. Is that a yes? That you do think so?”

Why was it so hard to repeat yourself, to just say the words already spoken?

Eddie had made it clear you had nothing to lose. You two were on the same page. He hadn’t scoffed in your face, he hadn’t even pulled away at the mere mention of the idea. Instead, he had leaned fully into it, head-first as he slid right into the imaginary future with you. He’d given a name to the little girl with his hair and his spunk, to the little boy with his dimples and his mischief.

Was it still a little too soon, too fast? Was that where the hesitation was born from?

It just all felt a bit too easy. After the rocky start you two had endured, this entire last year had just felt too simple.

Of course, even if the hesitation was sitting there in the pit of your stomach alongside all of your anxieties, all of your waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie easily soothes it all over as he gives a slow nod and responds, “Yeah. I do – I really do.”

And you clearly wear your heart on your sleeve, emotions painted across your eyes and cheeks for him to read clear as day, because he notices that catch in your breath.

“Not right now,” he rushes to add on, “I mean, listen, we’re still adjusting to Lestat. I think I’d like to be a cat dad too, before I even think about being a girl dad.”

“You’re gonna be a girl dad?” you laugh out without thinking, starting to thaw into a conversation that Jack Daniels had begun but you know you can surely finish with Eddie at your side, “That’s… unexpected.”

His face scrunches for the first time during the entire conversation, “What? You don’t think I’d be a good girl dad? I already deal with my rat’s nest of hair, so I know I’d be at least decent at braiding. And can you imagine getting to take a mini-you to shows, or buying her some cute unicorn helmet once she’s old enough to ride ol’ Nightfury? God, I think I might die from cuteness overload…”

Your cheeks are aching, ears ringing with his words. But all you can do is latch onto one little phrase: mini-you.

Here you were, picturing duplicates of Eddie bounding around the two of you, and you hadn’t considered what he might be seeing.

Not a child with his spunk. No, he’s seeing a little girl with your wit. A little boy with your stubbornness. Those eyes of his, nearly resembling heart-shapes at this point, weren’t wanting to see carbon copies of his whiskey irises. He wanted yours to be looking back up at him.

Hearts clearly can’t burst from an overload of optimism, of happiness. Yours beats wildly as proof, still intact behind your ribs that bloom with rosebuds for the boy pressed to your front.

“Mini-me?” you murmur, making him trail off, focused entirely on you so sincerely you could choke up. You shake your head, letting out a soft huff of air, smiling down at the ground, “No, I- I think you’ll be an amazing dad, Eddie. I just didn’t…. I just forgot…”

“That I’m with you all the way?” he finishes your sentence for you, one eyebrow arched as he gives a squeeze to one of your hips, “You could decide tomorrow you don’t even want to talk about having a kid ever again, that you’d rather get ten more snakes and live as some sort of cryptic couple somewhere in the Midwest the rest of our lives, and I’d be just as excited. I don’t really care where we end up, sweetheart – I just care that it’s with you,” You can no longer tell if it’s his words or the remnants of alcohol in your system that has you tearing up. All you know is that you are, and it’s ridiculous, but it’s fine, because all you see are dark brown eyes and entire realms of possibility in front of you, “Girl dad, snake dad, cat dad – whatever you need from me, I’m your guy.”

When the first tear falls, you're quick to shoot one hand up to your cheek in order to swipe it away as the other reaches out blindly to smack Eddie softly, “Shut up. Stop being cheesy. I’m too drunk for this.”

“You’re right,” he nods ferociously, taking over the duty of wiping away your tears without so much as mentioning it, “Wanna make out again instead?”

You let out a snort, and it eggs him on.

“Or, hey,” his eyes light up, some of the seriousness of the moment fading naturally, “Maybe we ditch this party and start practicing. You know, in case we still want kids someday.”

His pupils widen a bit, and you know surely that it’s only half a joke. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up at the thought.

“Careful, big boy,” you tease, leaning into his feathery touch on your cheek, relishing the way the nickname draws him under your spell even when you aren’t saying it with an ounce of gravity, “It’d be awfully dangerous to get yourself worked up in such short shorts.”

Saying it outloud almost makes you want to see it, genuinely.

“Worked up?” he scoffs, backing up a little, caught off-guard, “Who says I’m getting worked up? I’m not getting worked up.”

It doesn’t matter how many steps back he takes from you, you still follow, your palm still lands dead center on his chest as you roll your eyes, “Right. Because I’m totally meant to believe that the guy who used to jack off to Playboy magazines with girls who looked like me isn’t going to pop a boner at the thought of fucking a baby into me-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Nearly more resembling a bite, his canines digging right into your bottom lip as he pulls you forward and collapses back against the glass door behind him.

No words are spoken, no subtle interruptions for this kiss. Toying a dangerous line, dancing along a narrow cliff, and he’s the one who’s decided to drag the two of you off of it.

You don’t mind. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if he asked you to.

When one of his hands reaches up to your scalp, tugging at the roots of your hair for no other reason than he can, your mouth opens up into a silent laugh. An invitation, a jeer, a challenge. A quiet whisper of go ahead, do it. Consume me already.

He’s already everything to you. He’s already a definition of home thinly veiled with skin and bones, a future with a heartbeat.

His tongue down your throat doesn’t change the matter. Just reclaims it.

A whine is lost in translation somewhere from the back of your throat and right into his cheeks. His right hand wraps around some of the skin of one of your thighs, encouraging it to lift up to his hip, and you can still feel the memory of his usual rings imprinting into your skin. A permanent tattoo, a ghost of a feeling that’ll haunt you for all time – you love it. You want to live there forever, right here in this haunted house, collecting memories and dust of all that he is.

Haunted houses are only lonely when you’re left to wander these halls all by yourself, and you think he’d truly cross over into the actual afterlife rather than leave you like that.

The kiss is almost enough to forget where you are and who’s waiting on you inside the apartment. It’s almost enough to have you recreating that fateful night from over a year ago, to let him bend you back over this balcony railing again, and this time, any squeals you let out won’t be of fear. You’d face that fall head on.

His hot hands on your waist, his tongue in your cheek, his knee once again pressed between your inner thighs. Him, him, him-

A sharp rap sounds on the sliding door behind Eddie, and you’ve never jumped apart faster.

It’s Robin and Nancy at the door, Lestat happily wrapped around Robin’s forearm as she waves and points eagerly to him and Nancy simply crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as though she might have been a disappointed mother rather than a friend at the moment.

You done? Robin mouths, exaggerating her silent enunciation.

As you nod, Eddie only deeply sighs, throwing his head back against the glass with a soft thump. Nancy is quick to throw out a palm against the glass and tap back at him, mimicking swatting him for his theatrics.

Eddie pays no mind to Nancy’s retaliation, or maybe he just doesn’t see it, as he whines out, “I didn’t even get my cigarette.”

“Oh, cut it out, drama queen,” you snicker, trying to hide all your breathlessness as you fully pull away, “We’ve left our son alone long enough. You can chainsmoke to your heart’s desire once we get back home.”

You’re already walking towards the door, Nancy and Robin having retreated further into the kitchen, when he catches your wrist to tug you back close to him. He leans down, deliberate and careful to make sure his lips catch against the lobe of your ear, whispering soft as night, “Can’t chainsmoke if I’m too busy fucking a baby into you, sweetheart.”

It feels like someone’s poured literal fire across your body. As if flames have been dumped over the crown of your head, and are licking their pathway down your spine.

“Eddie.”

If you don’t get inside within the next ten seconds, you’re definitely going to make a decision you regret.

He’s chuckling the entire time he steps around you, opening the door and waving for you to slip inside in front of him. Your entire body is still burning so violently, you barely register the way his fingers hang at his side and make a point to brush the back of your thigh when you pass him.

Bastard, you want to snipe, but instead you just smile.

—

The next morning, you’re awoken by the incessant pinging of your phone.

You try to ignore it at first, burying your head deeper beneath the covers as a headache pulses at the edges of your mind, but after the fifth ping, it becomes impossible.

“Who the fuck is texting us this early?” Eddie’s muffled voice complains into his pillow, facedown with one arm thrown across you securely.

You can even feel him kick his bare legs in a show of defiance next to yours at the edge of the bed. If it wasn’t for the late night prior catching up to you, it’d be something sweet to laugh at.

“What time is it?” you croak, scooching further up the bed, making Eddie’s arm around you only tighten. As if he can stop you from getting out of bed, or delay the inevitable by resisting you checking the phone, “Is it even early?”

His free arm that had been tucked below his pillow flings out to the bedside table quickly, grabbing blindly for at least one of your phones. It doesn’t really matter if it’s yours or his; he’s got the password to both.

“It’s eight in the fucking morning,” he curses, seeming more awake as he notices that he was right in it being early. “How in the fuck is anyone up right now? We didn’t leave until nearly three.”

His arm is finally loose enough for you to sit up properly, tugging the comforter with you to keep your bare chest covered, “Lemme see it.”

“If it’s Harrington, can you post my bail for murder?”

“You’re not killing Steve,” you nonchalantly reply as you snatch the phone right out of his hand. It had been yours, unsurprisingly. You don’t even know if Eddie remembered to put his own phone on the charger before the two of you had promptly passed out. You hardly even remember how you managed to do so, “But – yeah, it’s Steve.”

“Fucking Harringt-”

“And Robin. And Jonathan.”

“Have I mentioned I hate our friends?”

The fog of sleep has officially lifted for you, and despite the wave of fatigue and aching joints you’d argue you’re far too young to be experiencing right now, you smile at your grumpy boyfriend. He exchanges his pillow for your stomach, shoving his entire cheek tightly to you as his arms wrap around you slowly. Clinging to you like a child, squinting against what little light pours in through the curtains.

“You don’t hate them,” you murmur, holding the phone in one hand to get a better look at the phone as the other cards through his curls, “You hate mornings.”

He hmphs in agreement, relaxing against your makeshift scalp massage.

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PHOTO OF ME WITH A SNAKE IN THIS CHAT?

BIRDIE: it is too early to be yelling

DINGUS: oh my bad

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU, ROBIN, SEND A PHOTO OF A SNAKE IN THIS FUCKING CHAT? WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE IS THAT?

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth as you begin to see what the entire commotion was, and Eddie is lifting his head immediately.

“What?” he questions, moving to lift himself up and peer over the top of the phone, nosier than ever, “Why did you gasp? Is someone dead?”

You scroll up, finding the photo being referred to.

“Not yet.”

Steve, clearly partaking in another round of karaoke. Eyes glazed over, mid stumble based on the blur.

“What do you mean not yet?”

Most impressively, most notably, is the snake around his neck.

Lestat, without a care in the world, his upper body being cradled by Steve’s palm as your drunk friend appears to be serenading the snake.

You bite back your smile, eyebrows high as you glance down at Eddie, “You remember when we let Steve sing Taylor Swift while holding Lestat? About… two and a half drinks after he finally noticed we had him, and he didn’t flip out courtesy to all that Absolute vodka?”

“Oh, fuck me.”

Eddie flings himself back to the edge of the bed in search of his phone just as another notification pings.

JOHNNY: I’ll do you one better. I have a video.

You don’t know if you’ve ever watched Eddie excitedly type on his phone faster than he does once he’s read that message, already giggling like a fool long before you can see what he’s sent in the chat.

LOVER BOY: Johnny, my boy, you can’t just say that and NOT send it.

JOHNNY: Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.

DINGUS: WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE WAS IT? IS IT EDDIE’S?

YOU: i will not stand for this erasure of me as lestat’s mother.

Eddie snorts and looks up at you with glee as he reads your response, “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?”

“Can we be buried next to each other?” you respond with a question instead, looking at him lazily, “We could have matching headstones.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” his grin is worth whatever Hell there may come to pay with Steve and the Lestat debacle last night, “Should we look up designs or-”

He’s cut off by the trill ringing of his own phone, watching several messages roll into the groupchat in quick succession.

DINGUS: who the fuck is lestat?

BIRDIE: the snake, dingus.

NANCE: As someone who has seen the video… I think Jonathan should send it.

DINGUS: DON’T YOU DARE

You’re a mess of hoarse giggles, hardly able to look at Eddie for the fear of both of you descending right into a madness of laughter. Like two children staying up too late at a sleepover, the room rings out with all your little noises, Eddie propping up his chin to watch you with the widest of smiles.

Except you’re not children – you’re just two idiots, in your shared apartment, with your shared snake in the living room and your shared friends blowing up both your phones.

Mornings have never felt quite as sweet as this kind.

“We’re gonna hear an earful next time he sees us, aren’t we?” Eddie finally sighs wistfully, rolling over flat on his back, head propped up slightly in your lap.

“Oh, definitely,” you nod, taking to twirling his frizzed curls around your knuckles this time rather than scratching mindlessly at his scalp, “But who cares? You saw how in love with the snake he was after a few drinks. He’ll come around, sober this time.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut.

You let the two of you sit in the quiet a bit longer, phones still buzzing with new messages, but the chaos can wait. For now, you just want to drink it in. Rays of vivid sunlight, the silence from the lack of the buzzing AC unit, the birds chirping annoyingly outside the window. You have one foot in relaxation, and one foot in the hangover you know you’ll have to battle once you choose to leave this bed.

“You know what sounds good?” you question, nearly under your breath. You’re really thinking outloud more than anything, but Eddie still entertains you with a hum in his tired state, “Betty’s.”

He’s the equivalent of a puppy dog who’s heard the word walk. One second, Eddie Munson is seemingly dead to the world, and the next, he’s perked up entirely. If it wasn’t for his nude state, he’d probably already be out the door with his keys in hand, dragging you right along with him.

His eyes shimmer despite heavy lids as he asks, “Almond croissants?”

A small nod, an ever present smile. You recall the conversation from the night before as you look into those deep russet eyes, and you see an entire future of late nights and almond croissants reflected back.

“Almond croissants.”

#ghost's stories #twenty four hours #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #beyond the hours #this can sort of be read as a stand alone but there's several references to the main story haha #ive missed them. sigh.#you can tell given the nearly 10k words that almost no one asked for

427 notes · View notes

fatkish · 3 months ago

Text

Demon Child Pt. 1

You are a half demon who was found by none other than Tanjiro Kamado. You had been living in a small hut all on your own. The hut was in a forest and Tanjiro had been sent out near there to slay a demon. You had been catching and eating mice and other small creatures since it was all you knew. That night, you had gone out to try and catch food when you stumbled upon Tanjiro who had just finished slaying a demon.

You are about 3-4 in age so you’re rather small but you have small fangs and claws as well as demonic eyes. The moment you saw Tanjiro, you turned and fled back into the forest, only for tanjiro to give chase. Tanjiro tried to call out to you and begged you to stop but you kept running. Eventually Tanjiro managed to get ahead of you and you ran right into him.

Tanjiro scooped you up only for you to try to bite him, but your attempts to make him let you go failed. So you began to cry in fear. Tanjiro could smell your fear and understood that you were scared.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you okay? Are you out here all alone? Where are your parents?”

You had difficulty understanding what he was saying but going off the kind vibes coming from the guy, you decided to trust him. Tanjiro asked you to show him where you came from. When he put you down, you tugged on his clothes and led him back to your hut. Not really understanding him, but wanting to take your new friend home with you, you guided him back to your hut.

To say your little hut was in bad shape would be an understatement. The walls had long begun to rot away. The floor was a mess and was constantly wet from rain and the roof was barely holding itself together and was beginning to cave in. The were obvious signs of attempted patching but twigs and grass can only do so much.

You went over to the corner and picked up a mouse that you had caught as well as two fish you had caught in the river. You toddled over to Tanjiro with the 3 items and offered them to him. Tanjiro thought you were simply showing them to him but when you shoved the mouse into your mouth he was horrified. He realized you were attempting to offer him food and that this is what you ate, he immediately stoped you.

“Spit that out, please don’t eat that! That’s not good!” He grabbed your little hands and you spit out the mouse into his hands. Tanjiro cringed but grabbed your hands and decided to cook the fish for you since you seemed hungry. You watched as he built and lit a fire before skewering the fish on sticks and putting them on the fire after it died down a little.

You decided to sit down next to him and watch the beautiful flames, as this was your first time seeing fire. Tanjiro also had to swat your hand away and teach you not to touch fire. After a while, he pulled one of the fish off of the fire before handing it to you. “Be careful, it’s hot okay?” He watched as you stared at the fish before biting into it. Your first reaction was to squeal as you kicked your little legs in delight. Tanjiro chuckled, guessing that this was your first time eating cooked fish.

You quickly ate the whole thing, even the bones. Tanjiro offered you the other fish which you looked at, and then pushed towards him. Tanjiro smiled and pushed it back to you only to start a small game of pushing it towards each other. Tanjiro then sighed and split the fish in half, giving you one half that you happily took once you saw him start to eat his. After you were full, you crawled over to him and laid your head on his lap before curling up and falling asleep.

Seeing you asleep, Tanjiro lifted you into his arms and decided to bring you back to the butterfly estate to help figure out what to do with you. When the sun came up, he was able to accurately see your demonic features but seeing as you weren’t burning in the sun, he decided that maybe you weren’t bad. When he got to the butterfly mansion he immediately brought you to Shinobu who looked you over before concluding that you were likely only half demon.

She told Tanjiro that she would have to inform the master of your existence and that you would likely have to undergo a trial to see if you were dangerous or to see if you would attack people. Fearing the worst, Tanjiro begged Shinobu to protect you from the other hashira. Shinobu and Tanjiro were unaware that Ubuyashiki had already known of you since last night and had called a meeting with the pillars.

A crow flew in from the window and told Shinobu and Tanjiro to bring you to the main estate. While you slept, Tanjiro and Shinobu brought you to the main estate. Once you were nearly there, you woke up to find yourself in Tanjiro’s arms. You made a noise similar to that of a chirp to gain his attention. “Oh, you’re awake? Hello there, my name is Shinobu, what’s yours?” You just stared at Shinobu not seeming to understanding a word she said.

“I don’t think they can talk miss Shinobu.” Tanjiro replied as you played with his earrings. As they got closer to the gates of the main estate someone called out to them. “Young Kamado! Shinobu! It’s nice to see you!” Rengoku shouted as he walked over to them. “And who might this be?!” He questioned as his golden eyes met yours. You turned in Tanjiro’s arms and made grabby hands at Rengoku.

Rengoku took you from Tanjiro and held you as you stared up at him in awe. You felt his hair and touched his cheeks, thinking he was on fire. As they continued to walk towards the pillar meeting, they conversed. “It would seem as though this child is a demon! Or at the very least is partly a demon! Are you collecting them young Kamado?” Rengoku asked as you watched in fascination. Rengoku held his finger up to you which you grabbed and began to inspect his whole hand.

“I’m not Mr. Rengoku, I just found them and I couldn’t leave them all on their own. They were eating mice and raw fish. I couldn’t let them continue to live like that” Tanjiro explained. Kyojuro only laughed as you stuck your fingers in his mouth and played with his hair. You were rather entertained, until you saw something shiny.

As Rengoku, Shinobu and Tanjiro reached the other pillars, your eyes zeroed in on Uzui’s shiny forehead protector and you immediately made grabby hands for him. You began to squirm in Kyojuro’s arms and wanted to get a closer look at the shiny man’s dangling beads. “Hey Kyojuro, what’s with the little squirt? You babysitting or something, that’s not that flashy” the man said before noticing your obvious stares and grabby hands.

No one expecting you to jump out of Kyojuro’s arms and latch onto Tengen. Whilst Kyojuro laughed and Tanjiro was scared for you, you just climbed up Tengen’s shirt and held onto him as you began to play with his dangling bead strands like a cat. “Well this kid can certainly jump.” Tengen said as he looked down at you, he wrapped his arms around you and let you play with and inspect his beads.

“Oh my, what an adorable child, Tengen, are they yours? Did you finally have kids? Oh so cute!” Mitsuri squealed. “What no! They’re not my kid! Kyojuro brought them” Upon hearing the noise, you looked down and saw a pretty lady. You then jumped down from Tengen and waddled over to Mitsuri. As the pillars began to talk amongst themselves, you wandered around, blissfully unaware of the Serpent pillar keeping an eye on you.

You bumped into something hard, looking up you saw a giant. Wanting to be tall too, you tugged on the giant’s pant leg, before making grabby hands and grunting. Gyomei looked down at you before scooping you up into his massive arms. You squealed in delight, making Gyomei chuckle. “Hello little one, you seem to be lost. But fear not, I will look after you” Gyomei walked over towards the others with you snuggled in his arms. You stretched and yawned as you decided to curl up in Gyomei’s warm arms.

By the time the rest of the Hashira got there, you were starting to fall asleep in Gyomei’s arms. “Does anyone know why the hell we’re here?” Sanemi questioned as he arrived. As he walked up to the others he noticed Tanjiro, he was about to say something when he noticed you snuggled into Gyomei’s arms. “What the hell is that thing! Is that another f-cking demon?!?” Sanemi shouted as he saw you.

Sanemi was about to grab his sword when Tanjiro got in front of Gyomei to defend you. “Don’t you even think about hurting them! I won’t let you touch them!” Tanjiro shouted. “Oi brat! Get the hell out of my way!” Sanemi tried to get passed Tanjiro but Tanjiro wouldn’t let up. “Sanemi, they’re only half demon, they aren’t a full demon, otherwise they’d be burning up in the sun light.” Shinobu said in an attempt to keep the peace.

“I don’t give a shit!” Sanemi shouted. All the yelling had started to wake you up. You started to move in Gyomei’s arms only to see Sanemi and get scared of him. You could sense his anger and it terrified you, not to mention how scary he looked to you. You started to cry and the others looked at Sanemi seeing as he’s the one who scared you. You were crying as Gyomei shushed you and rubbed your back. “Shh it’s alright little one. Namu Amida Butsu. You’re safe” Gyomei managed to calm you down as you snuggled into him.

As Sanemi was about to start up again, the Ubuyashiki children led their father out and announced his arrival. “The master has arrived.” They said in unison. All the Hashira as well as Tanjiro bowed to Kagaya. You looked up at this man and felt at peace in his presence. “Greetings my children, it is such a wonderful day, I thank you all for coming out on such short notice.” Kagaya said softly.

“Greetings master! We vehemently hope and pray for your family’s good fortune and health!” Kyojuro shouted. You looked up at Kagaya from Gyomei’s arms and crawled out of his arms. You looked up at Kagaya and began to try to climb onto the engawa but you were too short. “My children, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you here. It has come to my attention that young Tanjiro Kamado has found a half human, half demon child. I asked that he bring them here today so that we can figure out whether or not they are a danger to us and what should be done with them” Kagaya explained.

“Of course they’re a danger to us. After all they’re half demon! I’ll prove it!” Sanemi shouted. He got up and started to walk towards you only for you to scream and cry as you tried to run away from him. Sanemi managed to grab you before you scampered off and hauled you onto the engawa before cutting himself and shoving his arm in front of you. You screamed and dove behind Kagaya and held onto him as you cried.

“Oh my.” Kagaya said as Sanemi and Obanai were about to act in order to protect him from you. You cried into Kagaya’s legs as you tried to hide. “There there, you’re alright.” Kagaya said as he gently pat your head. You looked up at him before looking at Sanemi as you hid behind Kagaya. You slowly came out from behind Kagaya and approached Sanemi with teary eyes. You looked at the cut on his arm before gently grabbing his arm and licking the cut.

Sanemi was about to say that you were dangerous before you licked his shirt and started to wipe your tongue on his sleeves to get rid of the taste of his blood. You had a look of absolute disgust on your face. “See I told you that they are dangerous! Now I’ll end them” before Sanemi could pull out his blade you pointed at his arm and said “ I fix.” Everyone looked at you, then at Sanemi. You then repeated the words, I fix. Sanemi looked down at his arm and saw that the cut was gone.

“What happened?” Kagaya asked. “The half demon child licked Sanemi’s arm where the cut was and healed it.” His children answered. “I see. That settles it, it seems as though this child is harmless and has the power to heal. But I do believe that we should keep an eye on them to ensure that they don’t become a danger to anyone” Kagaya said. “Yes master.” “If that’s the case, then what shall we do with the child?” Shinobu asked.

“We could all take turns looking after them, after all, they’re so cute.” Mitsuri said. “I agree” Kagaya said. “It’s decided, you each will take turns looking after the child” Kagaya said. “But wait, what’s their name? Does anyone even know that, we can’t simply keep calling them ‘the child’” Obanai said. Everyone looked at you and you just stared back at them. “My dear child, do you have a name?” Kagaya asked. He pointed at himself before saying “Kagaya” he them pointed to you. You looked at him and pointed at yourself, “y/n” you said.

“What a fitting name, y/n” Kagaya said. You waddled over to Kagaya and tugged on his yukata while you looked up at him. “Hm? What is it little one?” Kagaya asked as he gently pet your head. “I fix?” You spoke questioningly as you looked up at Kagaya. “Are you asking to try and fix me? How kind of you, you can try” Kagaya said as he knelt down to your height. You then licked your hand, making sure to get it wet before smacking him across the face.

The Hashira all shouted at you and Obanai and Sanemi were about to grab you. They were all shocked at your actions. Kagaya slowly blinked his eyes as his vision cleared up and the purple marks on his face receded. “I- I can see again.” Kagaya stated shocked. He looked down at you and smiled before thanking you profusely. He even bowed to you where you just pat his head. You then yawned and crawled off the side of the engawa before going over to Gyomei and asking to be picked up.

Gyomei picked you up and told the others that he would take the first turn of looking after you. They all agreed to that and simply decided to let you choose who you stayed with. You curled up in Gyomei’s arms and fell asleep to regain your energy. After the meeting Gyomei left but made sure to say goodbye to everyone before heading back to his estate. He was sure that Genya would be happy to have you around.

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part 5:

Part 6:

Part 7:

Part 8:

Part 9:

Part 10:

Part 11:

#gyomei x reader #tanjiro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen x reader #shinobu x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #sanemi x reader

579 notes · View notes

6ronze · 2 months ago

Text

KINKTOBER (1) : BRAHMS!BAJI ─── ໒꒰ྀི っ ⸝⸝ ˂ ꒱ྀིა you’ve been hired to take care of the child of a wealthy old couple who live in a mansion out in the outskirts of the city. thinking it would be easy money, you accepted the job w/o doing a background check. it comes to you later on that their child isn’t exactly a ‘child’ or ‘doll’.

warning(s) : fem!reader, dc/nsfw, mdni — unpredictable baji, reader gets into the whole ‘caretaker’ situation, implied stalking, quickened plot, dubcon moments, switch!baji, manhandling, he’s a lil psycho, touch deprived baji, breath play, ch0king, hand job, mild degradation(slut, etc.), unprotected sex, not proofread, wc is 4.0k

𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 : my first entry for my kinktober!! Excited & scared omg — kinktober m.list + tags: @ljubimaya

You’ve been alone in this awfully large mansion for 5 days now. The owner left the day after they taught you how to care for their son.

Or porcelain doll, as you saw it.

But you weren’t allowed to call it that so you called it its given name instead—Baji. For the sake of the job, you did it despite the creepiness it gave you.

Hours passed and it was nighttime at wherever the fuck you were out in the woods. You’ve checked your phone every 10 minutes, hoping to see a text from the owners that left you alone out of the blue. The result of your curiosity was always the same—silence. Still.

“The hell..,” you mumbled, frowning at your phone’s empty home screen, not a single notification from the elderly couple. With a sigh, you closed your device and tossed it aside on the dining table, turning your head over your shoulder to see ‘Baji’ comfortably settled to sit on the armchair placed specially for him.

Creepy lil’ shit, you huffed in your mind, the corner of your lips tugging downwards, close to scowling at the innocent looking porcelain doll.

You got up, finding the silence within the entire residence unsettling and grabbing onto Baji impatiently, carrying him to your shoulder like a child.

The hallway echoed with your footsteps, dim lights illuminating the second floor. You were in a hurry to bring Baji to bed, not wanting to be in his presence any longer after an exhausting day of caring for him with odd occurrences in broad daylight earlier unsettling you more than you already were.

“Alright, Baji, sweetheart. Time to put you to bed,” you mused sweetly, pulling off the blanket and slowly laying down the heavy doll onto the mattress. You tucked him under the blanket once more, nestling the soft fabric snugly under his arms.

“Good night, Baji,” was all you whispered before standing up straight again, patting the bed twice and turning your heels to leave the room. With one final lingering glance on the laid and tucked doll, you stepped out and closed the door behind you.

You leaned against the hard wood door for a moment, your shoulders slumping as if a heavy burden was finally lifted off of them. Wary eyes of yours scanned the hallways around you, the silence and eeriness making your skin crawl.

However, the few moments after you pushed yourself off the door to walked down the hallway, audible steps made themselves present, the rough yet subtle sound making you halt and snap your head to the side. To your ears, the noise was coming from the walls right beside you, the opposite side of Baji’s bedroom.

Hairs at your nape raise.

You could call this occurrence normal now after it kept on going consistently during your stay here with the elder couple and alone. Despite the concerns you’ve expressed to them, they brushed it off carelessly as mice crawling in house. However, that didn’t assure you at all.

A moment passes, and you turn ahead of you again once the noise stopped, ignoring the swarm of possibilities that filled your mind. Yet, as you kept on walking, the audible stomping came alive again, longer this time. As if it was following you.

Paranoia taking over your nerves, you made a 180 and marched back to Baji’s bedroom, swinging the door open to see the lights closed and the porcelain doll snug in bed—just like you left him.

Taking slow steps closer to the bed, your hand reached out tentatively to touch the shoulder of the unmoving doll, its eyes staring up wide to the ceiling above. You took in a shaky breath, lips parted now closed to swallow your heart back down to your chest.

Slam.

Your entire body jumps and twists to look over behind you—seeing nothing but darkness now the door was mysteriously slammed shut.

“Oh, fuck, what the fuck,” you mumbled in panic, eyes frantically darting between ‘Baji’ and the door. Frozen legs of yours finally moved, sprinting over to the door to turn the knob and yank the heavy wood open.

“Why won’t this damn door fucking budge!” You exclaimed in a hissed whisper, breath short as if something stole your breath away. It wasn’t even fucking locked, the knob clearly showed it was open—then who the fuck was holding it from opening?

Thud.

Your entire being stilled. You weren’t alone.

You backed away from the door with a few steps, fearful gaze flickering downwards to see the other side illuminated with light—but with a shadow at the centre. Someone was behind the door.

You brought a trembling hand up to your mouth, covering your quivering lips.

A paper note slips past the gap under the door. You stared at it for a second, contemplating whether or not to take it.

Ultimately, you bent down to quickly pick up the paper, bringing it up closer to your face read it better in the dark room you were in.

‘You forgot something’

What the fuck? you cursed in your mind. You stood there, eyes fixating on the message written on the paper, mind scattering to figure out what you could have possibly forgotten that might be related to the situation you were in.

Then it hit you.

Kiss.

A stupid midnight kiss.

You were told to kiss Baji good night when it was bedtime when the owners were still here. You grumbled internally, who could have possibly remembered that ridiculous fucking long list of rules to take care of a damn doll?

“Fine—I’ll do it,” you conceded, albeit reluctantly.

You turned to face the bed ‘Baji’ was laid on and walked closer, noting the glimmer of moonlight reflecting on the porcelain cheek of the delicate thing. With a few deep breaths, you leaned down, hand lifting to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear as your lips approached the cheek of the unmoving thing.

Done, you thought, hoping whatever you did just soothed the person behind outside. However, your hopes were crushed to ashes the second you heard the door creak open slowly behind when you were about to straighten up, pulling away from the doll.

Heavy steps approached you from behind, the mere presence of the person making your entire nervous system shut down, unable to move a single limb out of fear.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Then nothing.

The silence was sinister, so fucking sinister, especially now he was behind you—for fucks sake, you could feel him breath down your neck, hear his ragged intakes of air.

Your entire body trembled, hands clenching one another and eyes darting from left to right, not having the guts to turn around and face the man who was probably responsible for all the fucking noises you heard in the mansion. But then, if he was responsible for the noises in the walls, could have he been watching you too? Hell, your cheeks flared up at the mere thought of it—of a man stalking you from the walls, watching your every move, witnessing you undress and maybe even bathe.

“What do you want from me?” you muttered, lips quivering more than you could control and words coming out shakier than intended. Despite the fear, the curiosity, you stood still. Unmoving.

But instead of hearing a response from him, you heard him move again.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he stepped beside you, a glimpse of him turning to a whole image of a man unkempt, yet well built. His black hair was luscious and long, generous strands falling over his shoulders. You kept your eyes trailed on him, watching him go ahead of you to sit on the edge of the bed, inches away from the laying doll.

“Kiss,” he spoke, his words coming almost as a grumble with how gravelly his voice was that muffled softly in the mask he was wearing. It looked weird too. White as porcelain.

“I already kissed Baji goodnight,” you stuttered, looking at him with fear glazed eyes, trying to fix this ‘misunderstanding’.

“This thing,” he quickly retorted, emphasising his words by grabbing onto the neck of the doll, lifting it up with a tight grip and throwing it off the bed, the strength of his swing making it hit and shatter against the wall. “isn’t Baji,” he finished with a growl.

“I am,” he added, head turning to look up at you, his breath heavy against the mask he wore.

You held in your breath at the reveal, your eyes fluttering closed as you glanced away, lips quivering.

It made sense. Considering all the information you got during your stay here from the remaining staff, from the photos and books you read through once the owners left. They all had one thing in common to tell you—Baji was real. And his birth date was way too far off from now for him to be a child.

“You know what to do. Right?” Baji’s voice broke you out of your trance, making your eyes flicker open once more to look at him.

He was expecting something. And you knew what it was.

“Alright,” you whispered beneath your breath, head nodding nervously once you understood what he meant, what he wanted.

You took hesitant steps closer to him, standing close between his spread legs now. You steadied your breath for a moment before leaning in closer to him, eyes blinking anxiously as you made your way to plant a kiss to his cheek.

Yet before your lips made contact to the mask, his larger hand made contact with your arm, his grip firm yet not painful. Baji pulled you onto his lap in one swift motion, forcing you to shift to stabilise yourself on his thighs, your hands flying to his shoulders on instinct.

Realising the placement of your hands and his own, you lifted your head to look up at him with wide eyes, lips gaping open to utter an apology.

“Go on,” he ordered before your voice could leave your throat.

You nodded, disregarding the awfully close proximity between you two. You knew better than to question or deny it, wanting to stay alive and unscathed.

Baji’s breath behind the mask was audible and stable even as you leaned in close, his body as still as a statue when you finally kissed the cheek of his mask. But you could faintly hear the soft grunt he made when you pulled away, the sound akin to a whine.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but be curious of the man, his story, and more importantly, his intentions on having you so unnecessarily close. The fear you felt earlier melted to a burning desire to explore, to curiosity—and perhaps arousal.

Baji was much larger than yourself, it was something you noted the moment he pulled you on him. The silence between you kept you on your toes but it didn’t bother you much—not when you were focusing on the feeling of his wide shoulders you were currently holding onto.

“You’re a handsy one, aren’t ya,” Baji commented suddenly, catching your attention. You glanced up into his eyes and shied away for a moment when you realised he was observing you so closely, embarrassed that you got carried away in such a crucial moment where your life could be at risk.

“All the other caretakers clamp up like fucking cowards the moment they see me. And here you are, feeling me up like a shameless, helpless, little girl like I can’t just crush your skull in a blink of an eye,” he continued, recalling all the other encounters he had with the past caretakers his parents hired. They always had the same look on their faces—nothing but fear, disgust and tears. It was probably the reason he killed them all. To see another expression on their faces.

But you were different. He noticed the little widen of your eyes when you saw him staring at you. And the subtle yet comprehensible flustered look you made right after he caught you was something that he couldn’t help but find ‘cute’.

“It’s almost pathetic, your behaviour,” he deemed, his intense gaze hardening at you out of nowhere. His mind tried to rationalise your behaviour. You were probably acting like this to get on his good side, so he would spare you. He almost certain that was the reason for your behaviour—selfish and self-centred, like the rest of them.

Your brows furrowed at his accusations, your head tilting at him in curiosity. What did he mean? What did you do? What behaviour?

“Behaviour?” you muttered questioningly, your fingers on his now tense shoulders wincing as you were about to pull away your right hand. Before your palm could lift off him though, he stopped you with a tight grip on your forearm.

“You wanna live don’t you?,” he growled lowly, grasp on you loosening slightly.

You hissed a breath, nodding firmly, making it clear you wanted to keep your soul intact.

“Show me how desperate you are. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you go.”

“Desperate?” You queried, confused at what he meant by showing him your ‘desperation’.

“You’ll do whatever I say, whenever I say it. No is not an option.” He answered, hand around your arm tightening to the point of pain that made you yelp and squirm on his lap. He inched in closer to you, head dipping to your face.

“Besides—you’re my caretaker, aren’t you?” He whispered lowly for your ears alone, hand twisting your delicate limb hard to enough ensure bruises coloured your skin.

“I—I am but—” you protested, your whimpers awfully quiet to truly be ‘protesting’. Your body shifted and writhed on his firm thighs, legs moving to straddle him better despite yourself. You kept on doing so until your hips ventured too close to his crotch, feeling the bulge that had formed in his pants. You didn’t realise your squirming from earlier had affected him so, nor did you think that your touches on his body contributed to his evident hard-on.

“And as my caretaker, you’re obliged to tend to my needs. So take care of the problem you caused,” Baji demanded, his gravelly voice slightly breathless now from the grinding you were unintentionally doing against him. He squeezed your stinging forearm one last time before letting go of you, leaning away a bit with his eyes fixated on you still, waiting for you to do your ‘job’.

You looked at his masked face for a second before flickering your gaze down to the sight of your hips meeting his, rocking yourself subtly to nudge to tent in his pants teasingly, earning yourself a heavy breath from Baji.

Thinking about your choices, obey or die, it was obvious which you were gonna pick. Besides, his orders weren’t gonna too bad, right?

Mustering up enough courage inside you, your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders again, the leverage helping you move on him more.

It was humiliating, really. To have him do nothing but watch you grind and hump on his clothed cock so attentively. It didn’t take long for you to feel the need clump up into a knot in your lower belly, the ache in your pussy pleading for more friction.

So you obeyed both yourself and him, hand slipping down to the fly of his pants, unzipping and tugging it downwards to release his hard cock from its confinement. His girthy length sprung out, fitting into your hand quickly after. Your fingers wrapped around the shaft, tracing the veins slowly until you reached his leaking tip, gathering the beads of precum and smearing it all over his flamed flesh.

The reaction you got out of him from the mere contact sent shivers down your spine, shivers of unexpected pleasure. This man who scared the life out of you, threatened to kill you and had you earn his mercy, was whining for you. It was faint, but you could definitely hear it from behind the mask. His body betrayed him too. Hips jerking up to meet your hand, as if silently pleading for you touch him more. But he didn’t say anything, letting you handle the situation as you saw fit.

”Fuckk,” you heard him whine breathlessly. Your focus remained on his cock that you held in your hand but you knew damn well how he was practically throwing his head back grudgingly now that you’ve started to stroke him, coaxing his blood to rush southwards.

Your lips parted at the sight of the mess he made on your palm, now slick with precum that kept on flowing. Your own breath hitched, unable to resist the urge to play around a bit more.

Your hand circled around his member and nestled to the base before you massaged his cock with a flick of your wrist, starting off slow as you made your way along the shaft till the angry tip. It was getting more obvious how he was pulsing against your fingers, the sensation making your cunt clench around air at the mere thought of him being inside you.

As seconds turned to minutes, his small hitches turned to pants. His chest was heaving, hips bucking into your smaller hand that attempted to fit his entire girth around your fingers. When your pace finally quickened, he could feel his the churning in his balls, drawing up and tightening along with the grip his hands hand on the sheets on the bed.

And you saw it all, noticed it all, but you made no effort to stop, eager to see and hear more of him until he reaches his climax. How could you stop when he was groaning and moaning incoherent profanities behind the mask, head leaned back just enough to show you the sweat that trickled past his mask and down his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously?

The wet sound your hand produced from jerking him filled the dimly lit bedroom along with the lewd noises that came from Baji. The often twitches his hips made were enough to tell you he was inches away from release, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Oh, shit— feel’s so fuckin’ good,” the bigger man cried out, hips thrusting into your hand one last time before stilling and spilling his load all over your hand, some ropy spurts landing on your clothes. Your chest heaved nearly as heavy as his, as if you were the one cumming all over the place right now.

His cock pulsed one last time before calming, your halted hand squeezing his sensitive length once more to watch the final drops of cum leave his slit. Then, you withdrew your hand from him, letting his semi-hard cock rest on his pelvis as he caught his breath.

“Not enough.. not even close to enough. Need more, need your fucking pussy,” he panted, breath ragged behind the white mask he wore to conceal his face that was no doubt, twisted in pleasure.

Baji’s hand shot out to grab ahold on your hip, pulling close with a rough tug. His other hand moved swiftly to hook his fingers under the waistband of your leggings, pulling it down in an impatient motion to expose your bare thighs and clothed pussy, the wet patch on your panties catching his eye before anything.

“Knew you’d get wet from this, stupid’ slut. Seeing me cum got you off, huh? Now it’s your turn to get me off by creaming all over my cock,” he grunted, voice raspy and hoarse from the reluctant moans he voiced out earlier. His hand remained planted tightly on your hip, the other shifting quickly to simply slip your panties to the side, making no effort to take it off.

You whimpered at the sudden change of his demeanour, not missing the crazed look in his bronze eyes. Except they weren’t crazed for blood—they were crazed for your pussy.

Baji’s free hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it once then twice until it was hard and ready again. He aligned his tip against your slit that hovered above him, the subtle graze on your pulsating clit and the warm precum mixing with your own juices making you desperate than ever.

His hand on your hip pulled you down onto his cock in one swift motion, his girth penetrating your entrance affecting the both of you. Baji drew out a long groan, your walls clenching around him almost immediately. And you moaned out a cry, eyes threatening to roll back from how full you felt from his cock alone, your nectar overflowing enough to not make penetration hurt too much.

Baji didn’t spare any time to let you adjust to the intrusion, forcing you to move up and down his cock with the leverage he had on your hip. You followed his rhythm grudgingly, not wanting his grip to tighten to the point of pain if you resisted. Even so, Baji was unsatisfied, wanting to have you fuck him even faster. So he moved his free hand up to your chest, slipping his calloused fingers around your delicate neck.

“Fuck, you milking me so good, baby.. Slutty pussy of yours made for me,” he grunted, his snapping up to meet yours, using more strength to hold your neck. Your hands threw around without true direction, one clawing onto his arm that he used to wrap around your neck, the other digging your nails mindlessly onto his shoulder.

Tears began to swell in your eyes as your moans began to choke up in your throat, Baji’s thick fingers pressing the sides of your neck strategically to restrict your airways, the lack of oxygen making you feel lightheaded and so much more sensitive to the merciless thrusts his cock made into you. You could barely mutter his name, or utter any coherent words for the few long seconds he deprived you from oxygen, though your wet pussy spoke for you in return.

“Dirty bitch—squeeze ‘round me just like that, yeah? Gonna fill you up soon, so fucking soon,” he promised, using and handling your body like a damn fleshlight that was good for nothing but his own pleasure, and fuck did you please him good. His fingers around your neck left welts that would probably stay for few days along with the marks he made on your hip, his cock bullying your cervix with each deep unforgiving thrusts he made, the sound of wet skin slapping against one another filling the room once more.

It went on repeatedly on and on, until he reached a breaking point where the knot in his loin held on its final thread, one final motion to sheath his pulsing cock into your depths contributing to its result to snap. His voice grew louder in volume once he came again, semen spewing in heavy, thick ropes to paint your once velvety walls white. His own orgasm triggered yours, the heat in your lower tummy overwhelming you the moment he filled you up as promised, his cum soon mixing with your own cum that coated his cock, the fluid dripping to his base and trickling down his tightened balls.

“Oh, lord—fuck me,” you murmured between your pants, Baji’s hand around your neck finally loosening and soon withdrawing. Your body twitched from the immense pleasure, twitching and slumping against him soon enough. Baji caught you in his arms, his own breaths ragged and uneven from exertion, his body as sensitive and as weak as yours at the moment. At some point, Baji eventually laid back on the bed, big arms engulfing you in a firm embrace as he tried to calm himself down with you.

“Can I leave safely now?” You muttered against his chest after a long period of silence passed, your breaths back to normal.

“Who said anything about leaving?” Baji rasped through the mask, his exhaustion undetected whatsoever in his voice. Your body tensed in his arms, eyes widening in fear as you felt a familiar gaze heady with malicious intent glaring holes above your head.

#baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #tokyorev x reader #baji x reader smut #baji smut #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader smut #baji keisuke smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut

323 notes · View notes