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risuola · 26 days

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IV — EPIPHANY — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

cw: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

series masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

» PART FIVE SOON

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clockwayswrites · 9 months

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I totally didn't write this with a fever.

wc: 815, Masterpost, Shopping Montage

“What do you think, parrots and way too many leaves or palm trees and waves?” Danny said, holding the two horrifically patterned Hawaiian shirts up in front of him.

They were standing in one of Crime Alley’s better thrift stores. While Danny had agreed to let Jason buy him some clothing, he had insisted it be at thrift stores. He wasn’t ‘going to let Jason spend that much money on clothing’, he claimed.

Jason figured that meant that Danny hadn’t clocked who he was yet.

Danny waggled the offensive shirts again.

“Tuesday…”

“Ah, I see, clearly it is option number three then,” Danny said somberly before dramatically pulling out a third shirt behind the other two and, “unicorns, rainbows, and hibiscus!”

It was eye searingly bright— like a pack of highlighters had thrown up on it— and clearly whoever had designed it had never seen an ungulate, rainbow, or hibiscus flower in their lives.

“No. No, you are not getting that because I am buying it for my fashion disaster of a brother. He’ll love it.”

“Really?” Danny asked, nose wrinkling adorably as he looked down at the shirt in his hand.

“Trust me, if you knew him, you wouldn’t be doubting it.” Besides, it stopped Danny from getting it even as a joke.

“Huh. Sounds like some brother.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jason said, taking the unicorn shirt and hanging the other two up. “Why don’t we start with pants. Three pairs at least.”

Danny scrambled after Jason. “Three pairs? That means I’d have four if the blood comes out.”

“It will come out.”

“Then that’s four! And that’s way too many.”

“One pair for every two days and a back up pair if you don’t get laundry done or lose another pair to a rogue attack,” Jason explained, finding the jean section. “What size are you and what type do you like. Baggy, boot cut, skinny?”

Danny stared down at the tables of jeans, looking more than a little lost. “Um, blue? Blue is good?”

“Disaster, Tuesday,” Jason said. He sized Danny up before picking out a half dozen jeans and shoving them at the other. “Try these on.”

“Jason, I really don’t—”

“Tuesday, I’m getting you three pairs of jeans. You might as well at least make sure they’re comfortable. Go try on the pants. If these don’t work, we’ve got others to try.”

“I, um, okay,” Danny said with a little nod and disappeared into the fitting booth.

As Jason grabbed another few pairs of pants, he had to wonder when the last time that Danny actually went shopping was from how he was reacting. Having to try on the jeans to make sure they fit was pretty basic. Hoping to make sure Danny really had enough clothing, Jason grabbed a few shirts to add to the pile. Mostly he stuck with basics, but he tossed in a few shirts that seemed nerdy in a way that an engineer might like. He pushed the pile under the edge of the fitting room curtain with his foot.

“What— I don’t—”

“Just be good and try on the shirts,” Jason ordered, as gently as he could, then he leaned against the wall opposite of the little line of changing booths to wait.

The sound of the curtain pulling open had Jason looking up from his phone. Danny stood just inside the booth, tugging down at the hem of the dark red henley where it set over the navy skinny cut jeans.

Danny shifted on socked feet. (Jason made note of the holes in the toes.) “I don’t know if…”

“Gives me a spin, Tuesday,” Jason said, tucking his phone in his pocket. “You act like you’ve never gone clothes shopping before.”

“Been a good few years,” Danny drawled, but spun as he was told. The pants did surprising favors for Danny’s ass for being thrift store pants.

“Never had that sudden growth spurt?” Jason teased.

Danny huffed. “I’m a short king.”

“Well, your Majesty, put both those in the yes pile and go try on some more.” Jason shooed Danny back into the booth with a wave. “When you’re done, we’ll grab you a pack of socks and boxers from the Dollar Tree next door— no arguing— and then I’ll show you the best diner in Crime Alley.”

“Am I going to have to let you pay there too?”

“Yep, so be a good figure head of a dated governmental system and hush.”

“Or it will be the guillotine for me?” The question was muffled as Danny changed.

“You’re too pretty to lose your head,” Jason said. “It would be the dungeons with you.”

Danny cleared his throat after a pause. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said with a chuckle and a determination to ignore that mental picture. “Now come on, show me the next outfit.”

-----

AN: And Dick wore that unicorn shirt far, far too often.

Hopefully it's coherent despite me being sick. The start of this came to me as I was trying to sleep with a 102ish fever so who am I to deny it?

Stay delightful (and hydrated) darlings!

I no longer tag for various reasons, but you can subscribe to be notified at the masterpost. (Queued this post so I'll update the masterpost when I wake)

#dp x dc #dead on main #the fic that i'm not writing #danny fenton/jason todd

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my-castles-crumbling · 14 days

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Is It Over Now?

Someone requested this a WHILE back and I wasn't in the mental space, but now I am so I present....Is It Over Now (Jegulus's Version).

It had been three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes.

Three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes since Regulus had left James. Said it wasn't going to work, refused to hear James's begging or reason. Insisted that it was for the best, even as tears streamed down his own face. Said that he had to become the Black Heir and James had to be the Golden Boy and they just couldn't be together. That they were a fling, and incompatible.

Three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes of seeing Regulus with other people.

Because as soon as Regulus had walked out of the door of the little flat that was supposed to be theirs (had he not left before moving in), he'd walked into the arms of someone else.

Well, multiple someone else-s.

James had seen them. All of the dark-haired, tan-skinned men that Regulus picked up in bars. Because he went to the bars, too. Watched.

But tonight, he had enough.

Regulus was on the dance floor, a tall man with black hair and fucking glasses leering at Regulus from behind, grasping at him roughly, making James almost growl with anger. Because Regulus deserved to be worshipped, not manhandled.

"Get the fuck off of him," he said loudly over the music, walking over and shoving the man backwards.

"What the fuck, James?" Regulus yelled, turning to look at him. "You've no right, it's over, I-"

"Over?!" James yelled, bass pounding around them, flashing lights making him squint. "You think so?"

"Yes!" Regulus yelled, but he grabbed James's wrist and hauled him out of the club to a back alley. "Yes," he repeated, only slightly quieter but twice as mad once they were in silence. "Enough. You have no say over who I'm with."

"Oh? But speaking about who you're with," James repeated furiously, just as loud, "All these men you're with- they look pretty damn familiar, don't you think?"

Regulus turned pink. "I-"

"So, 'It's over'? When was it over, Reg?" James asked, half-hysterical. "When you left me alone with no explanation? When you fucked the first bloke that looked like me on your couch? Because I know you did! Or how about when you looked at him while you fucked him and wanted to see me? Or maybe when you kept going out and looking for something better than us and found nothing?"

Regulus just stared, mouth open.

"Y'know," James continued, on a roll, tears falling down his cheeks "sometimes- sometimes I wish something would happen to me so you finally get your shit together and come back to me and finally tell me the reason you left is because you fucking love me and you were too afraid to SAY IT!" is voice cracked on the last few words, his heartbreak bleeding through the anger. Because he knew Regulus hadn't left him because he didn't love him.

It had been because he was scared. Scared of them. Scared of himself. Scared of being so vulnerable.

Regulus was still staring. He looked thoroughly shocked. Like he'd been electrocuted or something.

"It's not over," James whispered, taking a deep breath, hoping so much he was right. "Because you don't want it to be. Do you, Reggie?"

And it was like his words broke something in Regulus because all of a sudden, he was in James's arms, crying, his sobs only broken by apologies. "Was-trying-to-protect....was-scared....need-you..." he whimpered into James's chest, body shaking.

And James cried, too, but it was with relief. Relief that it was not over. "Come here, baby," he whispered, brining Regulus closer. "I love you," he said firmly, even as tears fell. "And you don't need to protect me or...or run from us. You're safe. I'm not going to leave you, Reg. I've got you."

Regulus only mumbled in his shirt, but James swore he heard an 'I love you' in there.

It was the one thing he'd been wanting to hear for three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes.

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rahhhbananas · 11 months

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✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐖𝐔 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. hobie, gwen, miles, pavitr

summary. Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Y/n are sent on a short mission to find a bizarre anomaly.

warnings. He/Him pronouns, I have literally no idea how to write Hobie’s accent, this is intended to be a black male reader, but there is no real indications of Y/n’s race!

a/n. I was re-watching KREW play The Mimic and this silly idea has been stuck in my head for awhile 😭 also I just love Hobie with my freaking soul

"So, there's a lady... with a biwu... smacking people?"

Gwen questioned through the coms, watching the ambulance carry away a citizen on a stretcher. Miles swung back up to the building where the other Spider-people sat. "Seems like it," he replied. The group huddled up, discussing their next move. "Hold on!" The trio turned their attention to Y/n. "Are we sure this isn't just some mad woman who enjoys seeing the world suffer?" Pavitr nodded in agreement. "There are some nutters out there! Take Miguel, for instance." Gwen chuckled, struggling to hold back her laughter.

"Oh, come on now. And I highly doubt Peter would let Miguel send us on such a pointless mission," Miles argued, peering into a dark alley, searching for any signs of criminal activity. Y/n let out a sound of amusement. "Are you really that certain, Miles? The guy chased you on all fours, I mean, all fours! I've never seen someone so dedicated to ruining another person's life." Pavitr burst into laughter, his amusement causing him to lose balance and fall off the chimney. Now, it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Ignoring the two, Gwen turned to Miles. "Miles, I know you want to prove yourself or whatever, but come on. Y/n has a point. This is..." A shrill scream cut off her words. The trio turned their attention to Y/n, who deadpanned, "I'm offended that you thought that was me."

"Whatever, someone's in trouble!" Miles leaped from the building, with the others not following. The group landed on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. Gwen tried to peer through the foggy, see-through material, but it was too obscured. "Just break the glass! It's easy!" Pavtri suggested. However, breaking the "glass" turned out to be more difficult than expected. Pavtri’s golden bracelets ricocheted off the material and came back to hit him. He made a noise of distress, but Y/n, ignoring the mishap, screamed, "There she is!" A clear opening in the material revealed a short lady. Her entire body was white, and she wore a long dress. Her black hair reached the floor, and she had a pink and red flower crown on her head.

"Y/n!" Gwen called out, "I'm on it!" Y/n responded, pulling out a red staff with golden tips on each side. The staff expanded vertically, breaking through the nearly impenetrable material. "Good job, Monkey Man!" Miles exclaimed before jumping down after Gwen. Y/n pulled his mask down. "Monkey Man? Are you serious? That's not a cool name!" Y/n jumped down, followed by Pavitr.

"Hey, lady!" Miles called out to the woman, who had her back turned to the group. "Why don't you turn around? Let us see that maybe pretty face of yours!" Pavitr joked, perching himself on a nearby crane, ready for any sudden movements. The lady slowly turned around, capturing the attention of the Spider-people.

"AUGHH!" The group screamed in unison as they caught sight of their opponent's face. Instead of eyes, she had black holes with white pupils, while black liquid leaked from her eyes. She had a eerie smile, the amount of liquid mirrored that which came from her eyes. "What on earth is that?!" Y/n exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Do you mind me asking... what are you doing here?" Miguel questioned, eyeing the punk who lay sprawled out on the floor. "Nah, go ahead, ask away," Hobie responded, using a tooth pick while making all sorts of funny faces. "I'm just gonna...I can’t even- I'll just ignore him…” Miguel muttered, using his unoccupied hand to soothe his incoming headache. "Whateva...you seen Y/n? I need to him too-“

"Don't even bother making up a lie. I don't need to know about... whatever it is you two do," Miguel interrupted, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, a loud cry echoed through the building, capturing the attention of both men. It was Y/n, being hoisted up by Pavitr, who looked like he had been through a beating and rolled in mud. Peter, who was nearby, rushed to the aid of the bruised teens. "Goodness, what happened to all of you?" Peter asked, trying to ignore Y/n's complaints.

"A lady... with a biwu! She attacked us, mercilessly!" Miles shouted, his hearing temporarily impaired from the battle with the anomaly. Everyone winced at the volume. Miguel emerged from his quarters, with Hobie not far behind. "So, from what I gather, you've dealt with the problem?" Miguel asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah, but not without a hefty price," Gwen gestured towards the injured Y/n and Miles. Hobie hummed, walking over to his boyfriend. "Care to explain what 'appened?" Hobie took Pavitr's place, supporting his own boyfriend. "She hit me with a biwu!" Y/n pouted, crocodile tears falling from his eyes. Hobie looked slightly amused. "A biwu?" Y/n nodded, and the punk had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter. "Alrigh’ then... let's go lie down. 'mm sure you're in pain," Hobie said, guiding his limping boyfriend towards a nearby couch. Y/n's theatricality seemed to amplify in the presence of Hobie. "Should we tell him how Miles pushed him into the line of fire?" Pavitr asked. Gwen quickly shook her head. "Nah, if we do, he won't let Miles live it down. Besides, I'm sure he's got enough explaining to do to his parents," Gwen gestured to Miles, who was smacking the side of his head, trying to regain his hearing. Miles perked up, noticing his friends looking at him. "Did you say something, Gwen?!" Miles shouted, oblivious to the fact that his own volume was still heightened.

#cute #male reader #gay #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miles molares #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar #miguel ohara #peter b parker #Spiderman: across the spiderverse x male reader #black male reader

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fandom-chic · 10 months

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Please Please Please: Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

A/N: Hi everybody! This Peaky Blinders fic is a SLOW BURN ROMANCE and will start off quite fluffy! Let me know what you all think and if you would like to see more.

She knew exactly which day it was when she first met him. She wouldn't forget it for the rest of her life. It was the spring of 1898, and her family had just moved to Small Heath. Her father had grown up there, and she remembered hearing stories from his boyhood, calling it "Magical Small Heath." She was ecstatic to go to such a place. It sounded like a dream come true.

But she was mistaken.

The rancid smell of the town seeped into every aspect of life there. The colors were dreary, the weather was raw, and the people seemed indifferent to everything. To top it off, the house she called home had maybe four rooms in total: her bedroom, her parents' room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. It couldn’t even be compared to her family’s old home in the country. During her first month in Small Heath, she often found herself staring out of her shoebox-sized bedroom window, yearning for some semblance of familiarity.

"You can't stay in your room all day," her father would say, standing at the doorway.

"I can try," she would mutter back, tracing the condensation on the window pane.

"I bet you can," he muttered under his breath as he turned to leave. He stopped abruptly and looked back. "The least you can do is meet the neighborhood kids. Don't turn your nose up at everyone just yet." All she could manage was an eye roll before her father left her to her own devices. She continued to gaze out the window, imagining herself somewhere else amidst the gray roads of Small Heath.

As day turned into night, she felt herself starting to drift off. Her eyes fluttered as her chin rested in her hand. Just as darkness began to envelop her, she heard a loud bang. Her eyes shot open, expecting to see a bullet hole in her window. Instead, all she saw was a ball lying in the garden below. It hadn't been there before, but now it found its place in the grass. She focused her eyes on the ball for a moment, and that's when she saw him.

He couldn't have been much older than her, maybe eight or nine years old. He leaned down and picked up the ball, rolling it over in his fingers before looking up at her. His eyes were the most colorful thing she had seen in Small Heath, like a sea of warmth amidst the coldness. She couldn't help but smile at him, and he returned a small grin. Then, he jogged off into the streets of Small Heath. She knew she had to say hello.

Her father was pleased to find an empty room the following day as he walked by her doorway. She didn't know where to find the boy, but she knew she had to search for him. She scoured the streets until her stomach rumbled, indicating it was lunchtime. With a sigh of defeat, she made her way back home. As she approached the front steps, ready for lunch, she heard a noise that stopped her in her tracks.

"Oy!" she halted and turned back to see a familiar pair of blue eyes. It was him.

"Hello," she said, feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

He held up the familiar-looking ball. "We need another player," he raised an eyebrow. "Wanna join?" All she could do was smile and nod. He returned her smile and motioned for her to follow him. She gladly obliged.

Walking by his side, they made their way down an alley. She couldn't help but notice how his clothes hung heavily on his thin limbs. If his shoes weren't so big, his pant legs might have dragged on the ground. His cheekbones seemed more pronounced than those of a child his age. She knew she couldn't be the only hungry child in Small Heath.

"I've never seen you before," he said, tracing the seams of the ball with his forefinger.

"My family is new to town," she said, feeling compelled to share more. He grunted in response as she started to hear the voices of other young boys.

"Then welcome to Small Heath. I'm Tommy," he paused, holding out his hand. It seemed unusual for such a young boy to introduce himself in such a mature way, but she sensed that he must not lead a typical life.

"Nice to meet you, Tommy. I'm Y/N," she hesitated before adding, "I hope we can be friends." His lips curved into a smile. She wished she could capture that moment in a photograph and live within it. This was the day she made her first best friend.

As the two children ventured farther down the road, Y/N finally distinguished voices. They approached closer until she could put a voice to a face. The voice that rose above all the others belonged to a boy who appeared a little rougher than the rest.

"It's my fucking turn," he said, emphasizing the final syllable of the curse word. Her eyes widened in surprise. In her seven years of life, she had never heard such language. She looked over at Tommy for a reaction, but all she saw was a smirk.

"Oy, Arthur, it doesn't matter," the angry boy turned toward Y/N and her new friend, "because it is Y/N's turn." Her eyebrows inched up slightly. She had never played baseball before. She always saw it as something boys did while girls played "house" off to the side.

"It is?" Y/N questioned.

"She's gonna mess up all the teams," Arthur moaned, waving an arm toward the five other boys behind him.

"Then we'll start a new game," Tommy said, sounding determined. She knew Tommy was younger than Arthur, but the older boy seemed to respect him.

"Fine," Arthur mumbled, "but she's on your team."

"Of course, brother," Tommy said. They were brothers. Even more unusual, she thought, as the two boys went to the pitcher's mound to discuss teams. Before she knew it, Y/N found herself holding a bat, waiting for a ball to come flying towards her.

"What do I do?" she whispered to Tommy, who stood a few paces behind her. He chuckled to himself.

"Hit it and run like hell," he replied. She nodded hesitantly before turning to face Arthur. He made eye contact with her and tossed the ball in her direction. Instinctively, she flinched away.

"Strike one!" yelled the catcher. She knew flinching like that was the wrong move. She looked over at Tommy, who masked his disappointment by gazing up at the sky. She knew she had to hit the ball. She raised the bat higher as another ball flew toward her. This time, she kept her eyes open as she took a swing.

"Strike two!" the boy yelled again. She could hear the grimace in his voice. Resigning herself to the idea that baseball may not be her game, she heard her name being whispered loudly. She turned her head to see Tommy.

"Hold the bat like this," he said, mimicking holding it horizontally in front of him. "Don't swing, just hold it out." She nodded and made eye contact with the pitcher. She was determined now. When the ball came hurtling in her direction again, she held out the bat. When she heard the light tap of the ball barely grazing the bat, she knew she wasn't out. She smiled to herself and then over at Tommy. He looked at her wide-eyed before yelling, "Run!"

She sprinted like lightning to first base, and before she knew it, she was safe. She had officially played baseball and had made her mark on the game. She felt victorious in her own way. As she basked in her moment of triumph, Tommy took his turn at the plate. Too caught up in her own accomplishment, she didn't hear the bat make contact with the ball. She also didn't look up in time to notice the ball whizzing right at her. It wasn't until the hard ball struck her gut that she realized Tommy had hit it. She clutched her middle, crumbled to the ground, and let out a scream. Rolling onto her side, she held herself in a fetal position, trying to find some comfort, but the pain was too intense. Tears began to stream down her face.

Between the sobs, she finally noticed Tommy kneeling beside her. "Are you okay?" he asked. No, she was not. He knew that, just as well as she did. The pain was one thing, but the embarrassment in front of her new friend was unbearable.

"I should go home," she mumbled, wiping away a tear.

"Are you sure you want—"

"Yes," she spat. With that, she forced herself up and trudged home. She refused to look back at the boy she had hoped would be her friend. How could he be friends with her now? With the crybaby who didn't know the first thing about a friendly neighborhood game of baseball? She lay face down on her bed as soon as she arrived home, vowing to remain there for the rest of her existence. This was her life now—a loner with no friends.

She couldn't have been there for more than ten minutes when she heard a knock at the door. She heard her mother open it and footsteps approaching her room.

"Y/N," her mother said as the door creaked open, "you have a guest." She rolled her head to see Tommy standing in her room.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, as her mother shut the door behind Tommy.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," he said, stepping further into the room. "Getting hit like that hurts."

"It did," she said. "It hurt like hell." She heard a chuckle from Tommy.

"I can imagine," he said, dropping onto the floor beside her bed. Y/N rolled over, staring at the ceiling as a beat passed.

"I understand if you don't want to play with me anymore. No one wants to play with a crybaby," she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, not wanting to see Tommy's rejection.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because," she felt her fingers tense with anxiety, "they ruin the games and then run home to their mommies. How can that be any fun?"

"You actually sound a lot like Arthur right now," she could hear the humor in Tommy's voice, but she didn't want to look at his face just yet. "Maybe we can play a different game then." This statement shocked her. Now she looked down at him to see him gazing up at her.

"You still want to play with me?" she asked, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

He smiled and sighed. "I don't know," he said, fiddling with his fingers and averting his gaze. "I guess I do."

The moment she gave him a small smile, Tommy knew he was forgiven.

"We can ride horses next time in the fields outside town," she felt her eyes widen at his suggestion.

"You have horses?" giddiness bubbled in her stomach.

"No," he smirked to himself, "but I know where we can find some."

That day, Y/N knew she had met her best friend. Tommy, though, knew he had met his soulmate.

Next chapter

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wandabear · 3 months

Text

CHEERFUL OBLIVION - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ

Summary: Your duty is to watch her 'till Chton comes for her, even if you hate it, but do you really hate it? Especially when you start to get to know Wanda. The bond begins to torment you. But, oh Lord, you've never been so in love. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter fivechapter six

masterlist

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ tw: angst, fluff, angst with a happy ending. ㅤ

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.

Florence + The Machine - Mermaids

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤchapter one

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤ Six thousand years ago, after the beginning, there was a malevolent and ancient demon that plagued the face of the earth for a long time.

Chthon, one of the most powerful deities among the demons as he was one of the firsts to exist, managed to maintain control until he was banished. Unwilling to give up power, created a castle on top of Wundagore Mountain, carving his dark magic into the walls with evil spells prophesying the existence of a sorceress. The most powerful being, the Scarlet Witch, who would end up freeing him from his eternal exile.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Chton was gone, but his followers remained over time, as did his sacred book: ‘The Darkhold’.

Demons roamed the earth, but not as everyone thought.

ㅤㅤ ㅤ

1999 NOVI GRAD

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

The sound of gunshots echoed, stinging and destructive; soldiers on one side and rebels on the other shooting and falling to the ground. The fire in the streets, terror had an exquisite scent for beings like her.

Civilians hid to avoid being caught in the firefights, trying to live as normal a life as possible in what they believed in was hell.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Suddenly, the gunshots stopped, exposing the sound of those combat boots against the dusty ground. That woman came out of that dark alley, there was no fear in those deep eyes. Her hair and clothes were immaculate, there were no traces of gunpowder on that leather jacket, nor dust on her perfect hair.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Sighing, Y/N walked towards that street but in matter of seconds she appeared on the terrace of a building. Seemed that they would soon fall apart, the dim lights just showed the power would go out soon.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Oh, she hated those places and at the same time she loved them. Chaos always had an exquisite flavor.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

But Y/N just smiled, her eyes changing color to a yellowish tone. Her pupils were vertical, like those of a cat or a snake.Those were her true eyes. She was a demon, of course, and not a very young one.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“What a turmoil, huh?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “The US Air Force will launch the bombing soon…” someone said behind her, watching as the planes hovered over the city. A sensual and deep female voice. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

A red-haired woman stood next to her, watching that beautiful city be devoured by fire and violence. It was scary, but for them, it was perfect. Chaos was something they needed, they fed on it. It was no coincidence that she and a demon like Abaddon were there.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ Abaddon was a demon of a much higher rank, more dangerous, and much more loyal to Chton, for a reason she was his second.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “Why have you summoned me here? Lots of work?” Y/N tilted her head, watching the redhead. She looked like a sharp-tongued woman. “I mean, this place looks really bad and it’s kinda my specialty, but I'm a little busy with a war between-.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “Leviathan.” Abaddon said her name, making Y/N stop. That was her real name, not Y/N. Although Y/N was the one she chose to feel part of the… world.Names had power and Y/N knew that if Abaddon said it, she had power over her.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “She’s here.” The voice and the way Abaddon said it made her blood run cold. Y/N frowned at her, that could only mean one thing and it was impossible. Millennia waiting for that moment, so much so that now it seems so distant and impossible.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “Who?” She played that game, naivety, and she was so good at it. A nearby explosion caused the ground to shake, but neither of them flinched. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “Who Chton has been waiting so long for.” Abaddon smiled proudly, finally happy to say those words.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “The Scarlet Witch.” Y/N gasped, couldn't believe that was true. “But…” ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Although that was good news for any demon from the depths of hell, Y/N didn't seem to think the same.

That meant the end of a world she became accustomed to, the end of comforts, the end of hedonism. Goodbye New York Pizza, goodbye to the sunsets in the Maldives, goodbye to good movies and good music.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Despite that, Y/N tried to fake her best mischievous smile. “Are you sure?”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes… Thanks to you, we found the place where the Darkhold was buried, and now... You need to take care of it.” Abaddon pointed towards one of the buildings in front of them, through the window you could see an adorable woman lying on an old sofa, with her two little ones. “That’s her.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“The woman?” Y/N asked curiously, tilting her head. Her hair was brown, had a charming smile and big eyes although you couldn't distinguish their color. A happy look despite the tragedy surrounding her family.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “No.” Abaddon rolled her eyes and pointed at the little girl, cuddling next to her mom. “The girl.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ But Y/N took a moment before speaking, her brow furrowed in confusion, she took a better look at the little girl.

Without a doubt, she had an undeniable resemblance to her mother.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“But she’s a kid.” Y/N mumbled, somewhat confused. “They’re children.” ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, and?...” Abaddon raised an eyebrow, already more annoyed than she expected.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ After a few seconds, Y/N just wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Yeah, no, I don’t mess with the tiny ones.” ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

Surprised by her rejection, the higher demon turned to see Y/N, who was still looking at the little girl curiously. How come something so powerful was so small and insignificant?

Abbadon could tell a hint of pity, perhaps sympathy, something that shouldn't have been there but Y/N had always been a pain in the ass. Y/N had spent more time with humans than she had in hell.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“Your job is to do what Chton ordered you to do.” The redhead growled, showing those terrifying red eyes. Abaddon was superior to Y/N, just because Y/N had screwed up a few times.

The truth is, Y/N didn't want to be a 'demon', like it was a big deal.

She always repeated over and over again that she was only there because of a mistake, Y/N -or Leviathan- didn't mean to fall, was a high-ranking angel, she just hung around the wrong people... wrong time! ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ Therefore, she has always been a ‘bad’ demon. Cruel sometimes but morally decent. And the children, well, it was something she was never going to be able to understand. She would never attack children. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ “But they’re kids-” This time, she seemed more confident in her words. ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ Fed up with her rambling and babbling, Abaddon quickly cut her off. “We don't need you to kill her, just... make sure her destiny continues as it should be. Watch her, do not intervene.”

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ

“And I’m not a fucking guardian angel or something, I fell for something- ” Y/N growled.

ㅤㅤ “Do as you're told.” Through her teeth, Abaddon grabbed the collar of Y/N’s shirt, showing why she was superior now. She was much more aggressive and volatile. “We're not playing… he’s not playing.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

After a few tense moments, Abaddon released her and took a few steps back. Annoyed, Y/N simply sighed and shook her head.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Take it as a promotion for such good work on your… what do humans call it? Red Room.” Abaddon hissed with an evil smile before completely disappearing from that place.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Sighing, Y/N stared at that place, knowing that it wouldn't last long if Chton needed that girl to exploit her potential. Three hours later, she witnesses a missile destroying Wanda Maximoff's home, beginning the chaos and pain in the girl’s life.

2014 HYDRA Research Base

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Hail Hydra!” One of the soldiers yelled, stepping aside, letting the woman in. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The cold, musty dark walls of the place seemed depressing to Y/N, her combat boots echoed down that hallway until she reached that horrible man's office.

She had known this man for fifteen years and there wasn't even a moment where she didn't want to rip his head off. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Hail Hydra.” Baron Von Strucker said quickly, but Y/N didn't return that greeting.

Y/N wasn't interested in having any kind of contact with Hydra, especially with the ‘leftovers’, but right now it was a necessary evil. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We found two volunteers for the tests, as you said… I must say that the results have been extraordinary.” Strucker smiled brightly, more than the demon expected.

Y/N frowned, walking through the office until she reached the window, a beautiful view of the lake and the forests of Sokovia. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know.” The woman murmured somewhat thoughtfully. “How is she?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ She didn’t expect Wanda and Pietro to seek refuge in Hydra, but the girl's resentment grew more and more. Something Chton and Abaddon believed was essential, Y/N had never taken the time to know or care about Wanda either. Despite knowing the girl for fifteen years, she had always been distant, fearing 'closeness' or as Abaddon would say: 'attachment'. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“How do you know it's a 'she'?” Von Strucker asked, raising an eyebrow, quite confused. No one but him and some soldiers knew that they were twin brothers, a boy and a girl. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But Y/N's glare made him reconsider his words. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know everything, don't forget who has helped you all these years. I am your superior, I am your god.” she said through clenched teeth. Suddenly, those human eyes changed to yellowish serpent eyes. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But before Y/N could say anything, a screeching sound and the red lights indicated the alarms were activated, they were being attacked.

The Avengers crossed the walls that surrounded the castle, ready to take back Loki's scepter. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Growling in annoyance, Y/N walked towards the door. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Attack the city, split them up.” Y/N said to Strucker before disappearing from that place. She needed to look for Wanda, needed to get her out of that place before the avengers found her but an empty room answered everything the demon needed to know.

Screaming in frustration, the demon disappeared from the scene. How could she have lost her?

“How did you lose her?!” Abaddon shouted, violently approaching to Y/N. Her face was as red as her hair, and her eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets soon. There were very few times that Y/N had seen Abaddon like that. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Both were in an office in one of the tallest buildings in New York, close to the Avengers Tower.

It was no surprise that a demon like Abaddon had a firm like ‘Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz’ in her hands. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N squeezed her fists preventing herself from exploding. She didn't like being reprimanded by Abaddon at all, much less in front of other demons.

Things in Sokovia had gotten out of control.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda and Pietro escaped, first manipulated by Ultron and then by the fucking Avengers. As a result, Pietro died in Sokovia trying to save the world. That would have been great if it served its purpose, but it didn't.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “She lost her twin brother in that battle, her potential has not been unleashed yet.... but is there, I know is in there.” Y/N was quick to say, then clenched her jaw. Abaddon was about to lose it until she heard the last thing. “The Avengers took her, she's with S.H.I.E.L.D. now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Those words managed to appease the redhead's anger, who sat back down in her huge chair. Some of the demons around her whispered a few things, good or bad, but good enough for Y/N to stay alive.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Go with those 'Avengers' or whatever. Do what you must, don't let her out of your sight.” The fierce-eyed woman said, raising an eyebrow. “Chthon will destroy you if you don't, he needs the girl alive.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Clenching her jaw, Y/N just nodded.

She decided to turn on her heels and walk towards the door but the war spirit inside couldn't leave it just like that.

Why? She spent fifteen years making sure that stupid girl was suffering to fulfill her own destiny. Through suffering, Wanda Maximoff would transform into the Scarlet Witch, taking on the mantle that belonged to her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Should she keep doing it now? Even more? ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“If she's so powerful, why should I take care of her? I’m not a fucking angel anymore.” Y/N complained, looking at Abaddon one last time. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The demons around them closed their eyes in suffering, they knew that later they would have to suffer and endure Abaddon's wrath because of Y/N. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Just do as I say, Leviathan!” Abaddon hissed through those white teeth and then glanced out of the corner of her eye at one of the demons. It was a woman with black hair and brown eyes like a puppy. She was wearing a white shirt buttoned all the way. Her black hair was tied in a tight ponytail. Looked like a secretary or something like that. “And take this useless spawn with you. I'm sick of her.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Sighing, Y/N just shook her head and left the office, quickly followed by that girl.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Stolas… what did you do now?!” Y/N asked, pressing the elevator button, noticing how the brunette next to her finally untied the collar of that perfectly ironed shirt. Y/N knew that if Abaddon kicked her out was because she was fed up with Stolas, a rather young and troublesome demon. Had some important hierarchical level, but not as high as Abaddon or herself. She this big problem called: being naive. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Stolas was going to speak but Y/N stopped her. “You know what? I don't wanna know.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Once both entered the elevator, they remained silent until Stolas couldn't take it anymore and blurted out everything. “I fucked up in the Red Room, big time.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I told you I didn't want to know!” Y/N growled and then shook her head, thinking that maybe now with Stolas it would be a lot harder. After a few seconds, the elevator reached the ground floor but before they got out, the brunette turned to look at her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Lev?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At that 'nickname', Y/N turned to look at her and noticed the concern in those brown eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You don't want to disappoint him again.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And those words chilled Y/N’s blood, not just because of the way Stolas said it, with so much fear. But because they both knew that disappointing Chton was a direct ticket to nothing, to the abyss, to be thrown into a black hole never to come out again. That was much worse than hell.

If that sounded bad, betraying or disappointing him was much worse. Frowning, she just shook her head. “I won’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you for this, Ma'am. You won't regret it.” Y/N said with a kind smile. She was wearing a dark combat suit, typical of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

After the fiasco in Sokovia, Y/N used her tricks to stay on S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent. She couldn't just walk in and take Wanda away like it was nothing, it would alert the Avengers and the demon didn't have time to unleash chaos like that.

She needed to be sneaky, and passing as an agent and keeping an eye on the Sokovian was the best idea in mind. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“After what I've been told about how you've performed in Sokovia, I know you'll do very well here.” Maria Hill smiled and shook her hand.

Maria was an excellent agent, but she could not overcome a demon’s manipulation.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

After half an hour talking about the job they would have at the Compound, that of course working with Avengers was much harder. The missions were much more complex, dangerous, many times with risk of losing their lives and it was a responsibility that they had to assume, if they wanted to be there.

She also explained to Y/N and Stolas that their superior, Natasha Romanoff, would look for them later to meet them.

After five more minutes, both left Hill's office walking through the hallways, greeting some agents who passed by them.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So… What’s your name?” Stolas asked curiously. “Your human name, I mean.” ㅤㅤㅤ

“The same as always, I get confused if I change it too much.” Y/N wrinkled her nose and then held out her ID. ㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Stolas read slowly and then handed back the ID. “Cool name.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I've been using it for so long that I already forgot mine.” Y/N shrugged as they left the elevator and walked towards the room they would both share.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s Leviathan.” Stolas said quickly and in an overly naïve manner, causing Y/N to let out a confused giggle.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“... It was a joke.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh.” The brunette nodded slowly, surprised. Of course this was all new to her, she had some 'jobs' on Earth but not much to socialize with humans. After a few seconds she took out her ID and showed it to Y/N proudly. “I’ll be Julia Hale. I’m an agent.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N watched with curiosity as the girl smiled seeing the ID and then put it in her pocket. “Why are you so excited? We're supposed to hate them, you should hate this like you all demons do.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, I haven't been around here much...” Jules shrugged. “We're supposed to use them, I'm more excited to experience new things and I like to hurt them sometimes over there, in hell. Working with Abaddon was… awful and boring. Mostly awful, so this is better.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But Y/N just listened to everything carefully, noticing that she was telling the truth. In a way she thought that perhaps Abaddon sent Stolas to spy on her, but Stolas - or 'Jules' now - was telling the truth. Abaddon just wanted to get rid of her. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Once they finally arrived at the training area, both walked through the gym, approaching a more private training area where only the Avengers and some agents close to the group trained.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

In the distance, you could see how a brunette and a redhead battled in a ring to maintain control but the widow defeated the sokovian easily.

Y/N tilted her head, noticing that Wanda didn't seem bothered by hitting the mat again and again, but rather tired, staring blankly waiting for it to finish.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

"That's our best weapon?" Jules frowned looking at Wanda.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That one is interesting.” Y/N referred to Natasha.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The woman was very skilled, fast, and of course even if Wanda tried hard, she would never make the widow fall without powers. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“The Black Widow. Dangerous. One of the best weapons in the Red Room for a long time…” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Come on. Jab, Wanda!” Y/N muttered under her breath, trying to encourage her 'protege' but once again, Natasha ended up making Wanda fall. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The demon just shook herhead, how was it possible that that girl ended up being the Scarlet Witch? She could barely stand up. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“At least she’s pretty.” Jules mumbled, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You shouldn't think that.” Y/N frowned.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But the brunette just shrugged. “Come on… Like you never fucked humans.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I did, but I don't worship them, I just use them.” As if she was seriously offended, Y/N just grunted and rolled her eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I just said she's pretty... it's not like you thought that too.” Jules rolled her eyes too. She didn't know why there was such a scandal in liking a ‘human’, without a doubt seeing them was better than some infernal beast in the depths of the darkness. “Anyway, that's all we can do, she’s Chton’s pet.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N didn't say anything, just stayed silent as they watched the blonde and brunette fight one more time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just sat far away so she could drink some water, but although the demon thought it must be tiredness, the sokovian seemed down. You could tell in her aura, something wasn't right about her at all and it stirred something in Y/N, something she couldn't identify.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you already know what will happen to her?”Jules asked curiously, watching Y/N who kept her gaze fixed on the sokovian. “... that makes her... You know, change?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No one knows... I thought it would be Pietro's death, but apparently it's something more devastating.” Y/N sighed. “Just that it will be painful enough to break her whole world.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Although she didn't know it, those words would weigh heavily in the future. As if it were a revelation. Wanda got up again but this time she walked away from the gym.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Who’s the golden retriever?” Y/N asked as she watched the brunette fall to the mat once again, the blonde seeming to be winning once again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The blonde raised her ice-cold gaze and collided with Y/N's for a moment, like she knew something wasn't right, until returning to Kate it softened.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Kate Bishop… and Yelena Belova, she is the widow’s sister.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Mh… interesting. Maybe we should start there, Kate looks like a weak point and desperate for a friend.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

That day passed slowly, first day at the Compound had been quite tiring. As if interviews with Maria Hill weren't stressful enough, briefings between Avengers were worse. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do we really have to do this?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Yes. We have to.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The sun finally hid behind the huge treetops that surrounded the place.

Y/N and Jules were returning from a long training session, and although they had much higher stamina than a human being or a superhuman, it was quite boring doing things that you could easily overcome as a demon.

Once they reached the rooms, they bumped into a redhead who was waiting outside with crossed arms. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You must be the newbies.” With a smug smile, Natasha greeted them both. “Shame I wasn't at your training today, but someone told me you both are deadly.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N didn't say anything, she knew that if she drew too much attention it could complicate things. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I spoke with Maria and now you both will work with us-”

ㅤㅤㅤ Before Y/N could say anything against it, Natasha continued speaking since she was her superior. “You can dine with us if you want. Meet the team... there are just a few of us now.” ㅤㅤㅤ

Jules's eyes widened excited while Y/N remained the same, of course she didn't feel like socializing with those people but couldn't arouse suspicion either.

Y/N just nodded slowly, giving a fake kind smile.

ㅤㅤㅤ ‘I'm not hungry now, but thank you. Maybe another time.’ It was something she would have said but ended up saying: “Sure.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Great.” Natasha exclaimed, winking flirtatiously. The three walked together to the kitchen while chatting pleasantly, it was a more private area where the other agents wouldn't be snooping around. ㅤㅤㅤ

At the table were Kate Bishop and Yelena playing some video games, Steve was chatting with Bucky and Bruce, who was cooking. Wanda was on the couch far away, trying to read, and Vision was looking out the window with a thoughtful look.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Natasha caught everyone's attention. “This is Y/N and Julia, they are new and tonight they are going to have dinner with us.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N felt everyone's gaze on her and could feel the heat on the back of her neck. She had never felt so exposed, and above all, she had never felt so uncomfortable in centuries. ㅤㅤㅤ

Everyone greeted them kindly, Steve was very kind to come over and shake their hands. Yelena just nodded her head saying 'hey' and Kate looked like an adorable puppy excited to meet the new agents, which made Y/N slowly walk away. Feeling deeply uncomfortable. ㅤㅤㅤ

Bruce was quick to say that dinner was ready, and everyone seemed happy about it, willing to help set the table, but something caught Y/N's attention.

Sighing, Wanda walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water and instead of returning to her seat, she walked away. ㅤㅤㅤ

“Where is she going?” Y/N asked as she watched the sokovian disappear.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda doesn't like spending a lot of time outside her room. She's having hard times, the girl lost her twin brother recently.” Natasha wrinkled her nose as she helped carry the salad to the table. ㅤㅤㅤ

“In her Emo era, huh?” Jules joked but Y/N nudged her. “Ouch.” ㅤㅤㅤ

“You know, I think… I want to take a shower first, I'm not that hungry anyway but thank you.” Y/N said as she walked out, finding the perfect reason to leave and not have to socialize with them. That job was tedious enough without having to listen to Bruce Banner or Kate's jokes. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She decided to go up to their room, taking a nice hot shower and read a nice book until the clock struck midnight.

Jules was snoring on the next bed, really tired. Frowning, Y/N wondered if perhaps it was because that young demon didn't have any experience on Earth. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Her belly growled saying that despite being a demon, she had some basic needs like eating. Sighing, Y/N got up from her bed and left the room to attack the kitchen while everyone rested.

And it would have been a magnificent plan, the kitchen was empty which made her smile victoriously as she opened the fridge. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Taking some bread, chicken salad and some cold cuts, the demon made herself a huge sandwich to satisfy the hunger.

Of course, she accompanied it with some spicy fries that the package clarified were 'property of Yelena -AND ONLY Yelena Belova-’' ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Not caring in the least, Y/N was about to take a bite when a soft voice interrupted the moment. She knew how to recognize that Sokovian accent perfectly, even though Wanda tried hard to hide it. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yelena doesn't like people eating her chips.” Wanda said from the other side of the kitchen, slowly approaching as if she were a grieving ghost. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I'll deal with her later.” Y/N shrugged. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Convinced with that answer, Wanda just ignored her and went to the kitchen so she could make herself some steaming tea. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“My name is Y/N.” She looked at Wanda but the brunette didn't even look at her. “What's yours?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Of course the demon knew everything about Wanda, even the things that not even the Sokoviana knew. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Why are you asking something you already know?” Finally, she lifted that completely blank green gaze. Y/N could see the deep sadness behind them.

That made Y/N stay quiet and surprised. How was it possible? How did Wanda know that-? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Oh. How silly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Of course she should know, she’s an avenger, right? EVERYONE knew who Wanda Maximoff was.

Shrugging, Y/N just sat down at the table so she could eat her sandwich. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

That was strange to the Sokovian, who perhaps was expecting a sarcastic response or something like that. Perhaps a curious mind asking about her powers or about Sokovia like everyone else, but Y/N just kept eating.

Taking the warm cup in her hands, Wanda was about to leave until she stopped in front of the table.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The silence was so pleasant that she couldn't help but end up sitting too. A bit surprised, Y/N decided to share some sandwiches.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m Wanda.” The Sokovian finished by saying, taking a chicken salad sandwich. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The demon looked up, colliding with those beautiful, huge green eyes and all she could felt was terror. Not because of the fear of knowing who Wanda was or being recognized, but because there was something about them, something different, perhaps attractive. She really liked those eyes. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m Y/N.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I know, you said it before.”ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Finally they both smiled.

And maybe the demon let loose a little more. And perhaps the Sokovian smiled a little bit more, almost in an imperceptible way. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Silence reigned again and both decided to enjoy it, keep eating without needing a word other than the sound of the clock hands. Although it seemed like a pleasant coincidence, it became routine.

Every night, Wanda and Y/N decided to have dinner together at midnight, avoiding the 'avengers' reunion. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The talks were usually short, they enjoyed the company without needing to go further. Or so they wanted to think. Wanda was not going to admit that Y/N slowly made her forget the pain and that normous invisible wall was beginning to fall, and Y/N was not going to admit that she liked Wanda's presence, but they were always together sharing that sacred moment. Y/N tried to ignore all those thoughts that reminded her that she should NOT maintain any ties with the witch and it wasn't easy at all.

Some nights Wanda would cook something for both of them, other nights Y/N would bring some Chinese food or pizza.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But one night Y/N just didn't show up. That Friday night, a storm was hitting the Compound so hard that the treetops were moving violently. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Wanda excused herself from dinner saying that she wasn't that hungry cause in one of their ‘small talks’ with Y/N, both agreed to make some pasta on friday night. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Does anyone know where Y/N is?” Wanda asked, trying not to look too worried. Of course Natasha noticed the concern in her voice, but she didn't say anything.

Nat was a very good spy and confirmed it when she found both girls having dinner together, but neither of them noticed it. The redhead was happy for both, especially for Wanda who was beginning to open up a little bit. Natasha respected Wanda's silence, although she made her pay for it in training.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Noticing that the hours were passing and Y/N didn't return from that mission, Wanda walked back and forth with her arms crossed as she watched the furious wind move the treetops through the window.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Why hasn't Y/N come back yet? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The only thing she knew – and thanks to Natasha – was that Y/N was on a mission in Norway. Things had not gone well at all, but they would soon return with the news and information they needed about the last remnants of Hydra.

But that storm was bringing out the worst in the Sokovian, who seemed to relive the worst thoughts over and over again.

Why was she so concerned about Y/N?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Well, maybe because together they managed to establish a small friendship or bond without saying much.

After half an hour and a lot of tragic thoughts, the door to the room opened, letting in this woman in a bit of a hurry carrying a package on her hands.

Y/N's hair was wet as was her clothes, but the package seemed intact. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I'm sorry., I'm sorry, I know!” The demon said, approaching Wanda and stopping right in front of her. The drops of water were falling down her face, she didn’t even stop to go up to her room or change clothes. She knew Wanda would be waiting for her, and knew she might be worried. “I really couldn't do anything, the mission got so bad in a blink.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Lost in those eyes, Wanda's heart skipped a beat. Couldn't even say a single coherent word. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “We were trapped, the agents were waiting for us but we managed to overcome them-” Y/N said quickly, babbling as droplets fell from her hair. And at that very moment, Y/N knew that something wasn't right with her. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Frowning, the demon rethought all her actions that day. Why was she explaining herself to Wanda? Why was she so worried about being on time and not standing her up? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Because she knew that Wanda created a routine with her, because she knew that Wanda lost her brother a short time ago, and that she fled any kind of ties with the Avengers but not with her. Not with Y/N. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Because she cared, because it mattered. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Suddenly, Y/N remembered that she was still holding that package and decided not to let go. Without further ado, Wanda came to hug her tightly. Closing her eyes, the Sokovian let herself get lost in that warm sensation. Oh, she was so happy to see that Y/N was okay. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The fear she felt at the thought that she could lose Y/N, even though Wanda barely knew her, was overwhelming. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Completely shocked, Y/N didn't know what to do. No one had ever held her before, she had never before allowed anyone to touch her so intimately. Much less hug her like that. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked quickly, breaking away to look at her. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ “I- I'm fine.” Y/N stammered, feeling the heat in her ears. She was definitely blushing and no one, no one had ever managed that. “Some bruises… but we’re okay.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Is your girlfriend okay too?” Wanda lowered her head, somewhat embarrassed but perhaps also jealous. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Girlfriend?” Y/N frowned quite confused. “Oh… no! Jules is… my friend. Just my friend.” She stammered quickly, nodding. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, great.” And as if her soul returned to her body, Wanda just smiled and nodded too.

Finally, the demon smiled slightly without needing to fake it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “What’s that?” The Sokovian looked at that perfectly wrapped package.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Remembering it, Y/N opened her eyes wide and handed it to her. “I brought pasta from Sicily!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ That took Wanda by surprise, who just let out a small, confused giggle.

Noticing her mistake, Y/N blinked quickly and added babbling: “I mean, not really Sicily but the place called ‘Sicily’ in Little Italy. I know it’s not chicken paprikash but…” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Taking a huge breath of air, Y/N seemed about to explode but Wanda simply stopped that bombshell with a small smile and a soft voice. “Thank you.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ And that's all they needed, to share a moment together. After Y/N took a quick shower, both finally sat down to taste that exquisite pasta together. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Why don't you have dinner with them? I'm not saying it bothers me, I’m flattered. I like this.” Y/N said curiously as she devoured that delicious pasta. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “It's different… with you.” Wanda whispered, watching her face in detail. Y/N was strangely unique; those lips, her nose, how adorable her slightly blushing cheeks were. Although those eyes... they made her feel different, weird but good at the same time. She knew they were hiding something. How strange. “You are the only one who doesn't torment me with loud thoughts.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Oh, how curious that was. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Why couldn't she hear Y/N’s thoughts? That question was haunting the brunette for weeks but then she came to the simple answer: did it matter?

Y/N made her feel comfortable, who cares why she can’t? She had to learn to trust Y/N, it was exciting. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Everyone here does it, and I can't help it. It’s driving me crazy…” Wanda lowered her gaze for a moment, embarrassed. “...like I don't have enough pain in my heart. I must deal with anxiety and other people's pain too.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Staying silent, Y/N completely understood Wanda's reasons for distancing herself from the others.

Even though she pretended not to care and even though she should NOT care, Y/N was beginning to make a bond with Wanda and it was inevitable not to feel… empathy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ It was inevitable not to feel appreciation for those sad eyes, wasn’t that the reason for all this? To create the Scarlet Witch, to forge the most powerful being in existence through pain. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I won't tell you I'm sorry, everyone does it and it doesn't seem to help you at all.” Y/N barely said, she knew some things about torture and pain. Many, but she had never experienced it that way. “I know some stuff about pain… and if you need me, and want to talk about it... I'm here.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Pursing her lips, Y/N just tried hard to smile and shrugged, showing for the first time who she was.

And maybe that was what Wanda valued most, that she didn't need to make her feel better with empty words. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ The Sokovian nodded. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “How is your ravioli?” Y/N finally asked, taking a bite.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “It’s good.” Wanda smiled widely, taking another bite as well.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I’m glad.” Y/N smiled tenderly, wiping her lips with a napkin. “The owner told me it was late but that she only made an exception because I was soaked.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “You did that for me?” Those beautiful green eyes shone with some hope. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Of course not, I did it because I was hungry!” Y/N joked. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Stealing a giggle from the Sokovian, they kept enjoying for a while until the clock invited them to retire to their rooms before Natasha found out and kicked their asses.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Y/N?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Yeah?” As she finished putting the dishes in the dryer, the demon looked up to see Wanda in front of her. She was playing with her rings, something she did when the girl was nervous and it looked adorable. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thanks for coming back safely.” After saying that, Wanda walked away slowly, feeling her heart racing and her cheeks blushing like a teenager in love. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And the demon's old heart gave signs of life, jumping when she heard that. Joy could be seen in those 'human' eyes. Oh, what was she doing? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Look, you’re a sea beast! … What’s that? A whale?” Jules asked excitedly as she looked at the screen, searching for information on some random pages about demonology.

Since she arrived on Earth, Stolas was fascinated with all the technological advancement and the knowledge that humans had of them. Some are totally wrong, according to her. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “A snake! I'm not a whale, I'm a snake! Just- … Can you stop looking for us on the internet?” Y/N growled as she changed into her pajamas so she could lie down on her bunk. “If someone see you, they'll say you're crazy and you'll ruin our plans.”ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “No, I wanna see-” The brunette tried to continue but Y/N took her phone from her hands in annoyance and then threw it away, pointing at Jules. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “You're a gay owl with skinny long legs.” Y/N hissed, arching an eyebrow. “You teach about astronomy and herbs when you are summoned! Happy? HERBS! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, a demon teaching about herbs!” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Hey! that’s not me.” Jules stood up to grab her phone to look for the picture, it clearly looked like an owl exactly like Y/N described it. “I don't look like that. I know a lot about astronomy tho.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Rolling her eyes in disdain, Y/N laid down on her bunk so she could rest.

Every night, it took an hour to find sleep. Her body was never so tired as to fall asleep easily, and thoughts came to her to haunt her one more time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Y/N sighed thinking about her once again, but Jules' voice saved one more time, something the demon didn't think could be possible.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ��How is everything going? With Wanda…” Jules glanced at Y/N, who seemed to focus her gaze on the ceiling. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “It’s okay.” Y/N shrugged. “Like a hurt beast, but nothing that indicates… you know.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The brunette turned to see Y/N with a mischievous smile. “I know you both have dinner together at midnight. I can hear her heart pounding fast in the distance.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ How dare Stolas offend her like that? Watching her with a murderous look, Y/N growled: “I never said that you should follow me. And you shouldn't get involved in other people's affairs.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I didn't do it!” Jules quickly defended herself, a bit scared. “I just… noticed it. Abaddon didn't say anything about you having to bond with her.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I like to have things under control.” Sighing, Y/N kept staring at the ceiling. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Or you like to spend time with her.” Of course Jules was more astute than she looked, despite being naive she was no fool. Jules was a high-ranking demon, with the brain and body of a woman who had never experienced anything more than torture her entire life. “Time is something so simple for us, Y/N, we are eternal… We have seen empires rise, we have seen empires fall. We have seen great people and many other people so horrible that hell was not enough for them... all thanks to time. For us, it is nothing more than sand, but for her it is important, and you like her to enjoy it with you.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N turned to look at Jules, who didn't seem to say it in a mean or judging way.

The brunette just blinked slowly, a little thoughtful, maybe even relaxing between those huge pillows.

She wasn't trying to attack her or use it as an advantage, Jules seemed rather curious.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “And I’m saying: mind your own business.” Y/N narrowed her eyes and grabbed one of the pillows, hitting Jules. “Sleep now, Stolas.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “It’s ‘Jules’ here!” Rolling her eyes, Jules settled on her bed and Y/N did the same after turning off the lights. Silence reigned for a moment until the voice of the demon brought Y/N out of her thoughts again. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Y/N?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Sighing, ready to get up and hit her to shut up, Y/N opened her eyes. “What?!” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “If you think the girl needs to clear her head or feel better or... if you want to share your time with her, I think it's the right thing to do… that’s why you’re so much better than Abaddon.” Jules said in a whisper as she rolled over and settled down to sleep. “And you don't hit me all day long, that's good.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ And perhaps those words finally managed to steal a small smile from Y/N. The urge to hit Stolas or -Jules now- wasn't far, but she understood the demon's relief at being away from someone like Abaddon.

Although demons had an evil nature, they were not all exactly the same. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Many of them had previously been kind beings who ended up falling. Some with reasons, others not so much. Some were cruel, others were sadistic, and others simply existed. But Abaddon was different, if demons were chaos, Abaddon was cruelty and malice. She was a cruel general, addicted to blood, hungry for violence and that was why Chton had considered her over Y/N.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ There was no room for cruelty in Y/N, except for beings that were truly malicious. Y/N loved giving them what they deserved. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Yeah…” Y/N sighed. “That's why I'm not where she is. In control.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ And although the demon tried to sleep and clear her head, it was difficult not to think about that girl all night. The way Wanda looked at her, or the way she cared for her was so…disgustingly nice.

She had to do something to stop it, and she had to do it soon or everything would become even more complicated.

Well, I hope you like this new story that is running through my head and is saving me from the daily stress in which I begin to die. But a beautiful song made me think about that story, so why not? In my defense, watching 'Good Omens' helped a little. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ I'm sorry for leaving you for so long, my life is getting a bit complex these days… The economy in my country is burning and I try to survive by working hard so writing was difficult for me. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ If you want me to tag you in the next chapters, just comment and I will. Thank you very much for reading me, honeybee! It means a lot! 🐝 ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Do you want to help me? Wow, that's adorable and means a lot. You can buy me a coffee here!

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader

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rileyglas · 28 days

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The List ~Pt. 1 - Creation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

This is my first-time writing fanfic but I literally cannot get the stories out of my brain so…why not make everyone else suffer. This is part one of a story I’ve been rolling around some time. I feel setting a good foundation for the reader/main character is super important, so I PROMISE this story gets better. Be prepared for the usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness (Lucifer), fluff, eventual smut (yes horny readers bear with me we need some plot), and of course 18+ because….it’s Hazbin what do you expect?

Summary: f!reader finds themselves in Hell. Unable to accept your horrible fate you make it a point to continue being a bright soul surrounded by the darkness of Hell. With some higher advice, you create a list of rules to live. A short list to keep out danger and continue helping the lower sinners of Pentagram City. It’s the ONLY way you can survive (right?). Your list begins to crumble when you start helping Lucifer’s daughter with some hotel and a dream to redeem the same sinners you want to protect.

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

1.5k Words

Part One (You're on it!) Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Rumor was all sinners would spawn in hell with attributes related to their life and (untimely) death. Your gift power was proof of that.

“Everyone get inside! Come on before the exorcists see you.” You hurry the last of the smaller sinners inside a building. It kills you to see such fear from the souls. “Lock the door. I'll lure them away.”

How foolish you were. Somehow a heart of gold followed you to these depths after death...ironic how even the nicest people end up in hell. God really does have his favorites I suppose.

But that foolishness led you to the best thing to happen to you, so you thought. Dodging through the streets, maneuvering, anything to lead the "angels" away from even the worst of sinners. Cursing praying for their safety. It was only your second extermination, but you already caught onto their game. It was all too easy to get around their sloppiness. Needing a breather, you weave around some cars and dive behind a dumpster. Idiots can't even keep track of my thickass? Pathetic!

A few moments pass as it grows quiet. Your breath begins to steady when the softest whimper catches your attention. As quietly (and non-threatening) as possible, you turn the corner to approach a crying dark mass curled on the ground. Seeing their blood pooling sends your stomach into flips. Not another one. Fearing the worst you gently reach out. “Hey hey...shhh..." you utter, feeling her wince ever so slightly. "No don't panic I'm here to help. Where are you hurt?"

The young girl slowly uncrumples herself to show her wound...a massive "X" sliced hips to neck. It was so deep you couldn't believe she was still breathing let alone even moving. Fuck she's lost too much blood. "Come here let me try to stop the bleeding" you lied. You knew she had no chance. But your chest hurt at the thought of her dying (again) alone in some shit alley. With the last of her strength she curled into you, her white hair tickling your face. She had her textured locks pulled back tightly and black horns accenting the top of her head. Her tired red eyes relaxed, slowly closing as she leaned into you. Such a beautiful girl falling to such a terrible fate. With one hand on part of her wound, you used your other to softly stroke her head. “I'm so sorry young one...just breathe in and know you're not alone.” As her breathing shallows you gently kiss her forehead, bidding her soul a gentle goodbye.

The second your lips touch her skin, pure fire floods through your veins. Every nerve in your body feeling ripped apart. You spasm from the pain, clenching onto the girls now limp body. Just when the pain starts misting your vision you see flashes of...pink? "What the fuck!!" You grit through your teeth. What felt like hours of pain was merely a few seconds and it quickly dissipated from your body as did the pink light. Shit shit shit, there’s no way the exorcist didn’t hear OR SEE that! You stay perfectly still...listening to the silence with your mind reeling over what just happened.

A gasp breaks the deafening silence, pulling you back to reality. The young girl jolted out of your arms, gasping in as much air as she could. Looking down you notice her wounds were gone, only dry blood and tattered cloth remained from the laceration. You look at each other in panic and shock.

After inspecting her stomach she snaps out of her daze, remembering you two were still not safe.

"It's too dangerous to stay out here. Come with me - we aren’t far from the safehouse. I am sure my mother will want to meet you."

You follow without hesitation. Trust has always been a weakness. As you make your way through the city, she explains how she was out collecting angelic weapons with her sister when they got separated. After getting cornered she just accepted her fate...then you found her. "The name is Clara by the way. Clara Carmine. I usually just go by CC though."

You never intended to get into the Overlord game. You were merely trying to make the best, quiet life in hell if that was even possible. Guess things change when you save the daughter of Hells most prestigious Overlord. Who could say no to being taken in and protected by THE Carmilla Carmine.

Carmilla immediately began preparing you after hearing of the power you possessed. The power to heal with touch...of course it’s not that easy…it required pure intensions, coming from a place of love. Who the hell (pun intended) wrote this cruel joke for a sinner? How did the lowest of low get given such power just a few short years after arriving? It was your most precious secret. It had to be. If anyone of ill will found out - and come on, it's Hell - your soul would have been the most sought after in the pride ring. You wouldn’t last a day. Carmilla was indebted to you for saving Clara, so she made a deal to give you protection and mentorship as repayment. The first of many deals you’d make in Hell, growing the power you held.

In the years you've been under Carmilla's watch, you created a short list of rules to keep yourself out of harm’s way -

1. Never trust another Overlord

2. Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have

3. Never bring anyone too close

4. Never let your weaknesses show

It was a simple enough list that had worked for you so far.

You chose to make deals with those who needed protection or help while navigating the dangerous afterlife. In your deals each soul was bound to secrecy as to who you were and what you provided. Contract details and fine print were your specialty. Your soul count was the highest Carmilla had ever seen for someone so new, so merciful. She would often mention only one other sinner ever rose the ranks as quick though his methods were…less than savory. She never bothered to say who. Every Overlord meeting the rumors spread of some "Saving Grace" sinner making their way into powerful ranks. A shadow giving vile hope. But just as quick as those rumors appeared - they were put to rest when no new faces ever appeared. Of course you were there - you needed to attend for information just as much as the next guy, but you never sat as an Overlord. Carmilla granted you a place off to the side as "the help" to serve tea or make notes as needed. No one ever batted an eye to someone considered just a worker bee in Carmilla's hive.

Every meeting was the same, though it seemed unease was rising after each extermination. Six years had passed since you fell into this hellhole (har har). Another extermination, another meeting. Sitting in your designated corner, you twirl your pen as the Overlords began taking their seats. Might as well be invisible - but you preferred it that way. As your mind slightly wonders to less important things, the quiet buzz of conversations around you fades away from your ears.

"—yes I know I’ve been absent some time. I'm sure you've ALL been wondering!"

Your attention snaps back with the sound of this charming new voice. The demon was dressed to the nines - red suit jacket, gloves, freshly pressed slacks. Your already preoccupied mind raced. Who the hell is that? Where has he been? Why does he have that shit eating grin?

He must hold some power to be sitting here after all these years…

"Not really. But welcome back in any case."

That dismissal from Camilla was enough for you to put aside any questions you had of the demon. You knew this meeting would be tense. Can't afford distractions when you needed to be all ears. As you began writing you felt something in the pit of your stomach. Was someone staring at you? You try to shake the feeling when Velvette made her grand entrance. With a sigh and eye roll you set aside your notebook. God damn this woman, no respect, no couth. Gonna be a long one today.

The sinking feeling returns, this time you catch the culprit. The (new to you) demon Overlord is staring at you as if you’re the only one in the room. You make eye contact hoping he moves his gaze, but it only fuels the intensity on you. That smile never faltering. Your ears ring and static pricks your ear drums. Can I fuckin help you sir? Wait no, you're just the help. Lower sinners would never even dream of speaking to an Overlord like such. Thankfully the eye contact breaks when Velvette tosses the head of an exorcist on the table.

Ah I suppose this will be quite a fascinating meeting…

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #fanfic #hazbin hotel fandom #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin fandom #hazbinhotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #slow burn #hazbin hotel lucifer #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla

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cannedpickledpeaches · 2 months

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Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #floyd leech #twst jade #(y/n)'s the main character but you aren't her #slow burn #you're gonna have to read some plot #before you get to the fluff #this is actually just my excuse to write something sort of meta

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toxophilitis · 3 months

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Horny Peeping Sister cont

Chapter 7

The next week after her piano lesson, Becky was walking home down a dark alley, whistling her favorite piece, when suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her by the arm. She started to struggle and cry out when his voice fought its way through her terror and instantly calmed her.

“Easy Becky, it’s me, shhh!”

“Daddy!” she gasped, her heart at her throat. “God, you scared me to death!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, ahhh, I guess I didn’t think.” Becky now could see that her father had on the black outfit he now wore whenever they went out spying on people. He’d taken to voyeurism very quickly and Becky was glad for that. She’d gotten some very good fucks out of her old man while watching other men and women getting it on. “What are you doing here?” Becky whispered. “I thought maybe we could go out for awhile,” Jim replied. “But what about mom? She’s home!”

“I told her I was going to pick you up from your lesson and take you to the library. She doesn’t suspect a thing, I’m sure. Come on, Beck,” he whined, “let’s go find a good one and have a little fun.” Becky wanted to say no to punish her father for having frightened her so badly but she just couldn’t. It had been a couple of days since she had been fucked and a couple more than that since she’d been out peeking so she was hot for it. Her stern expression finally broke and she took her waiting father by the hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s see what we can find.” As quietly as ever, they slipped up and down the blocks and sometimes even between the houses. Things seemed unusually quiet and they were about to give up when a lighted window up ahead of them drew them like moths to a flame. “That’s Mike’s house,” Jim said, naming one of his co-workers. “Oh, I can’t wait to see him fucking Diane! I swear, if they weren’t married, I might go for that little piece myself!”

“Shhh,” Becky cautioned, worried her father’s excitement might give them away. They quickly moved toward the window, Jim hot to get a look at his friend and his wife fucking their brains out. But when they arrived near the bright window, Jim got quite a shock. Diane was there all right, but the man humping betweeen her golden thighs was no one he had ever seen before! “She’s cheatin’ on him!” Jim gasped. “I don’t believe it!” It didn’t matter to Becky that the couple on the old-fashioned four-poster bed was not man and wife. All she cared about was the fucking being hot to watch. Carefully she opened the gate to their backyard and led her babbling father closer to the fucking action than they had ever ventured before. “Quiet Dad, they might hear you,” she whispered, crouching down beside a potted plant. “And get down!” The bedroom had a sliding glass door that led out onto the patio that Becky and her father were crouching on. The drapes were open completely and Becky could see all of the plushly furnished bedroom and the wanton fucking taking place there. With a lusty sigh she settled down to enjoy the show. The woman in the house, Diane, was a tall honey-blonde, her hair falling nearly to her waist. Right now she was on her back with her feet spread and pointed toward the open window while a dark-haired man humped mightily between her legs. Becky watched his ass bob up and down and creamed. Jim stared at the fucking couple like he had never seen people fucking before. Diane had always been one of his fantasy girls, but he had always imagined her to be beyond reproach and totally unobtainable. She and Mike seemed devoted to one another and now, as he realized how wrong he’d been, his cock ached for what he might have had. Becky was stretched out on her stomach on the grass in front of the window and Jim joined her.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him, his cock against her ass, as they undulated together and watched the man pounding between the blonde’s bent legs. Becky bounced her ass back against her father’s cock. She could already feel that it was very hard and so she mashed herself against it, teasing him. Jim reached around his little girl and felt her titties. She had on a light jacket and he unzipped it slowly, hoping that the people inside wouldn’t hear it. But he needn’t have worried. They were fucking so hard they wouldn’t have heard anything short of a nuclear explosion. Then, opening the middle few buttons of her blouse, Jim at last reached the bare skin of his daughter’s tits. “Where’s your bra?” he whispered. “Who needs it? It just gets in the way.” Jim laughed at her bluntness and cupped her little titties. The nipples were very pointed, partly from what she was watching and partly from being exposed to the cool night air. Jim took them between his thumbs and forefingers and gave them each a little pinch. As always, her tits were very sensitive, and Becky wiggled back against her dad with more vigor than before. The shaft of his hard-on ran right along the crack of her ass and Becky danced against it. Inside the house, Diane lifted her upper body, holding herself up on her bent elbows. The man continued to hump between her bent knees and she took hold of his face and pulled it to hers, kissing him hungrily. For the first time Becky got a good look at the woman’s face and saw that she was very beautiful. Her hair framed her perfect features and her large, luminous eyes made her look rather exotic. Becky could understand her father’s lust for Diane. Just looking at her even made Becky feel a little funny and she moaned. Jim’s fingers moved down, opening her clothes the rest of the way. Then he shoved her sticky panties away from the flowing gash of her pussy and buried both of his hands there. He shoved one finger from each hand into the hole of her cunt and fucked them in and out like pistons, one always inside her. Becky couldn’t stay still while her father finger-fucked her this way. She humped and rolled her hips, increasing the friction his fingers gave her cunt. The night air tickled the hairs of her pussy and she shivered when her warm cream rolled out and met the cool breeze, chilling the hot meat of her cunt. Jim grunted against the side of her neck. As he filled and refilled his daughter’s pussy, his eyes never left his friend’s wife and the man fucking her so mightily. Diane had broken off their steamy kiss and her head had lolled back, her face contorted with fuck-lust and partially covered with her long, silky hair. How Jim wished he could wrap some of that hair around the throbbing shaft of his prick and jack himself off with it! At that thought, he nuzzled his face into Becky’s hair deeper than before. He filled himself with the scent of her and it turned him on like crazy. If he couldn’t have Diane, he could have his own daughter and Jim knew that fucking his own flesh and blood was a thousand times more thrilling than fucking anyone else.

Wet, sticky sounds came from between his little girl’s legs as his fingers continued to trench out her juicy cunt. The scent of her pussy surrounded them like a cloud and Jim inhaled deeply, getting high on the luscious aroma of teenaged pussy. His head swam with it. The smell of her cunt made his mouth water and Jim knew that he had to taste, as well as touch, her juicy young cunt. He gave her pussy a couple more spine-tingling jabs and then pulled his fingers free from her clasping pussy-walls. “Wha-?” Becky mumbled.

“Shhh, turn around, I want to eat you,” Jim whispered, helping her into the position he had in mind. Becky squirmed around until her head was pointing toward the window. Her dad then removed one of her shoes and pulled her jeans down and off that leg, leaving them tangled around her other knee. Her pussy sizzled right in front of his open, ogling eyes and he dove head-first right into its creamy depths.

Becky arched up when her father’s lips hit the open lips of her pussy. Her head tipped way back and she found that she could still see Diane and her fuck-partner only now they were upside down! The picture almost made Becky laugh except that her father plunged his tongue into her pussy deeply and changed her emotion from amusement to pure fuck-lust. “Ohhh,” she sighed, opening her legs as wide as she could and assuming the same sexy position Diane was in. While in the house the man between the woman’s legs, his cock filling her cunt, out in the yard the man filled the woman with his tongue, his head bobbing between her thighs. Jim slurped down all his daughter’s juice greedily, as if he had to get all that he could tonight because tomorrow might never come. Becky humped her ass up out of the damp grass and fed her dripping pussy-meat to her father. She grabbed two big handfuls of his hair and used his head for leverage as she bounced around, now and then still catching a glimpse of what was happening inside the bedroom. Diane leaned forward and so did the man who was fucking her. They embraced and the man pulled her tighter to him, making her sit up flat on her ass.

As Becky watched, she saw them entwine their legs until they were both sitting up and facing each other, his cock apparently still inside of her cunt. “Wow,” she gasped, “that was neat!” Jim looked up over the fuzz of her cunt to see what she was looking at. To his surprise he now saw the back of the man with Diane’s legs around his ass and her pretty face peeking over his shoulder. Neither of them could move much but, from the look of ecstasy on Diane’s face, Jim knew that their new fucking position was pleasing her plenty. Then he flicked his eyes back down and threw himself into the task at hand, eating his daughter out. He curled his tongue into a long tube and thrust into her pussy with it, opening her up like magic. Then he began a series of long, straight fuck-strokes, probing her depths with the soft, slimy length of his rigid tongue. Becky bucked and writhed, her fingers pulling hard at his hair and her nails scraping at his scalp. She made his face bob around between her legs, his nose involuntarily being ground against her upstanding clit. But Jim didn’t mind the slight discomfort his little girl’s lust brought to him. He was glad to let her have her fun. He snorted her smelly juices and gulped them down by the mouthful, loving every tasty minute of this cunt-lapping. As Jim delved his tongue far inside his daughter, scooping out helping after helping of her tasty juices, he rolled his own hips from side to side, his hard-on trapped beneath his body. It was uncomfortable to have to lay on top of such a swollen piece of cock-meat, but the man endured, more interested in his daughter’s pleasure than his own.

“Oh, Daddy, ohhh, ohhh!” Becky whimpered. “You do that sooo goood!”

Jim lapped the flat of his tongue up and down over her entire cuntal area. The tip of his tongue touched the puckered hole of Becky’s ass and he was reminded of how well she had taken his cock when he had first fucked her ass a few days ago. In appreciation he tickled that rough little dent with his tongue tip and then again lapped all the way up her creamy gash until his tongue reached the pulsing button of her clitty. He pulled her clit in between his lips and drew it out long and taut. Then he beat the end of it with the end of his tongue, loving the way Becky bucked and grunted. His hands were on either side of his munching face, keeping the girl’s legs spread as far apart as possible, giving himself plenty of room to work. Slurping noisily, Jim glanced over Becky’s cunt-bush to check out the action inside the house. Just as he looked up, he saw the man lean back and take Diane with him, guiding her up onto his prick. With a look of extreme fuck-lust, Diane took her perch on top of him, his cock securely buried in her pussy, like a queen to her throne. Better than ever her full, mature body was displayed for Jim’s hot eyes. Her curves were the lush, padded curves of a grown woman. She rolled her hips slowly, fucking at him as she looked down right into his eyes with heavy-lidded horniness. Jim watched her tits sway as she fucked that lucky man. More turned on than ever, his cock pounding against the wet grass, he reached forward and took hold of Becky’s young tits. He kept his eyes on Diane, imagining it was her full set of titties that he had his fingers stretched around. His breathing grew heavy and thick and the jets of air escaped his nostrils and tickled Becky’s clit, making her squirm with pleasure. Her father’s tongue was driving Becky out of her mind. Again she arched herself up, giving him more of her pussy and allowing her to take an upside-down look at what Diane was up to.

The sight of the perfect woman moving on top of the man’s cock with such sensuous grace made Becky green with envy. She couldn’t wait for her own young body to finish developing. “Ummm, fuck her,” Becky spat, the top of her head in the moist grass as she moved with Diane, jerking her cunt downward at the same speed. “Fuck him good!”

The growling sound of his daughter’s lewd commands thrilled Jim. He zig-zagged his tongue up through her open cuntal crack, touching her sizzling skin only lightly and feeling the way she shuddered with mounting joy. He intended to toy with her a little more and then, when Becky couldn’t stand it anymore, he wanted to bring her off like never before. Becky arched her body, feeding her dad her pussy while she watched Diane give the other man her cunt. When Jim’s hands left her tits and went back down to hold her legs apart, Becky grabbed her own titties, rolling and pinching and tweaking them, making herself soar higher with her incredible fuck-lust. “Oh, Daddy! Daddy!” she cried, her voice rather shrill in the empty night air. Jim’s pulse pounded in his ears as he shoved his tongue deep into Becky’s cunt and then wiggled it around inside of her. He made his tongue flutter into her cunt-tunnel and then run around her clit, touching her everywhere that mattered as he brought her closer and closer to her beloved orgasm. Becky whimpered, her body jerking violently. Her hands left her father’s head and instead grasped the grass beside her jumping ass, ripping it out by the roots in big, wet clumps. She no longer saw Diane, she no longer saw anything except her own relief, which got closer and closer with each thrust of her father’s fucking tongue. “Oh! Oh! Ohhh!” she grunted, her words louder than ever before.

Jim jammed her full of tongue one last time and then felt her go rigid beneath him. Becky let out a blood-curdling scream, but Jim ignored it, pumping her pussy with his tongue with a quick, deep determination that kept her creaming and screaming for several endless seconds.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she cried, her young body bucking and jumping. “Ohhh!”

Jim was in the groove with her orgasm, enjoying it with her until he looked up into Diane’s bedroom. All the fucking there had stopped and Diane and her partner were looking around themselves, Becky’s screams having broken into even their intense fucking trance. Jim’s heart nearly stopped as Diane bounded off the bed and looked out her large window. Fortunately for him and Becky the difference in the light was so extreme she still couldn’t see them. Jim saw her turn back to the man and say something and, not one to take chances, Jim pulled himself up, gathering the still-whimpering Becky up into his arms. “Daddy, wha...where...ummm,” Becky moaned as he lifted her up and ran with her toward the gate, her loosened pants dangling down from her half-naked body. As he let the out the gate, Jim turned around to see an outside light come on and Diane’s fucking partner stepped out into the backyard, his cock still at half mast. Jim watched him scan the yard and then stride out into the grass. With Becky still cooing and sighing in his arms, Jim watched in horror as the young man bent down and picked up something, straightening up and holding Becky’s forgotten tennis shoe in one hand. “Jesus!” Jim sighed, his heart pounding as he turned and ran down the alley as fast as he could, the burden of his daughter heavier than ever in his arms.

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sunandflame · 10 months

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Hey there :) I hope you’re having a great day :) if it’s okay please could I request a fic of muzan. Where the reader comes from a troubled family, and she’s always kind to muzan every time he comes through town and he’s very fond of her but one day when he visits he finds her on the brink of death so he turns her into a demon and she quickly becomes an upper moon. I hope this isn’t too much information 💙💙

Hi there! I actually never ever wrote something for Muzan, but I do like challenges! And there is never too much information. I hope it's the way you want it and please let me know if not, since I am always looking for a way to improve myself ❤️

Beguiling voice

Warnings: angst, violence, ra.pe attempt

Word Count: 966

Pairing: Muzan x Fem!Reader

Again you had to dry your tears and hide it behind a mask of smiles. Again you had to hide the bruises under your kimono and had to act like nothing happened. It was embarrassing and it became a habit to tug at the sleeve of your own kimono, so nobody saw the evidence of your troubled household. And yet you smiled, remained friendly, because that was your nature. You believed in the good of people even though it's been faltering lately.

You bowed to the pale man in the western suit and white fedora, gave him your friendliest smile. You often saw him here in the tea house and even if he didn't really order anything, you always tried to have a conversation with him as his voice was so beguiling to you and it was always a friendly exchange. He too seemed to be enjoying the conversations. That's how it seemed. Because if it hadn't been like that, he wouldn't be showing up again and again, right? He wasn't always there but as soon he was in the town, he made sure to visit you at least once. His soothing voice and manner were always a blessing on your battered soul and there were often times when you sought for the simplicity in your conversations. He was even in your daydreams when you tried to escape the unpleasant moments with your family. It was your escape of the reality, but the reality can hit hard.

You already had a queasy feeling since you made your way home from work. It was much later than expected and you quickly hurried to get back into your own four walls. You just wanted to be home as soon as possible, but that was denied to you.

With a jerk you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a dark alley and before you even knew what was happening to you your head banged against the wall and you lost consciousness for a moment and something wet flowed down your neck. You heard several male voices

"Fuck, she doesn't have anything valuable on her! Not even worth to rob her."

"Just leave the bitch here"

"Are you sure we shouldn't even have some fun with her? She's quite the beauty, isn't she?"

You opened your eyes in shock and began to whimper and fight. If they try something on you, they shouldn't have it easy at least. You clawed, bit and kicked around, but it only seemed to make the attackers more aggressive until eventually they got tired and just kicked you to the ground. Your consciousness wavered between fainting and trying to suppress the pain.

At some point the pain stopped and you knew that it was not only because they stopped kicking you and went away, but because you felt that you were close to death. It really was like most people said. The pain was gone for the moment and the good memories will flash in front of your eyes. Only that they weren't memories of your family, just the ones you shared with this beautiful pale stranger with the fedora.

You felt movement and someone was gently rocking you in their arms. "Drink this..." A bitter tear ran down your blemished face. You didn't want him to see you like this and yet you were overjoyed in your inner that he was the one to keep you company in your final minutes. You allowed yourself to nuzzle yourself to him or was it him who held you tighter? You couldn't tell "Y/n, drink that" This time the voice was more demanding, not allowing you to resist even as you lay dying.

With your last strength you drank what he gave you and the peaceful death you wished for was undone. Agony tortured you and you twitched in his arms, but he had been so strong that he still had no trouble holding you. Your fingers dug into his shoulder, leaving marks on his perfect jacket. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you knew there was a change and suddenly everything went black around you.

It's been some time, but it was relative for you anyway. You had become a different person. No longer a human, but you were a Demon now. And you became one of the Upper Moon Six after Gyutaro and Daki fell victim to the Demon Slayer Corps. But that wasn't the main cause. Muzan was fond of you and your strength and he regularly enriched you with his potent blood. He wanted to see you strong at his side and in his inner circle. But even so, you had shown an outstanding strength that put a smile on Muzan.

"Y/n..." His beguiling voice reached you as he brought you into the infinity castle.

"Yes, my lord..." Immediately you were on your knees to demonstrate your devotion. You didn't remember your previous life or how you came to 'death'. You knew you owed everything to him. And his voice was always something that caused a pleasant tingle in you. You knew you owed everything to him.

"Come here my beautiful." He gave you his hand and asked you to stand up. His cool hand stroked your cheek and an inner longing spread through you. If only he... You didn't finish the sentence in your head, his lips were on yours, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip while he looked down at you with his red plum eyes. "I thought I would show you how fond I am actually of you... My dear y/n" His fingers rested on your chin as he stole another kiss from you and even if it took you by surprise, you were not complaining as it was exactly what you always wished for.

#divider by firefly-graphics #sunnys work #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer drabble #kimetsu no yaiba drabble #kny drabble #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x y/n

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hobiebrownismygod · 28 days

Text

Written in the Stars Pt. 2

Hobie Brown x SirenFem!Reader

Previous | Next

___________

"Over there!"

Hobie dodged out of sight, hiding behind a few empty crates as he waited for the police to run past him. The two badged men quickly walked around the corner, not even noticing the wicks poking out from behind the large boxes, a pair of eyes gazing at them from in between the cracks. Hobie waited for a few moments longer before appearing again, heading in the other direction.

He couldn't go back to his boat. Not yet.

It seemed like there were police at every corner, and he was unable to escape them and their batons. Osborne had been imposing a stricter curfew on the city, and officers were constantly patrolling the area where he usually kept his canal boat.

He knew if he got caught going back, the canal boat would be towed away, he'd be kicked out, and he would end up completely homeless. He refused to let that happen to him again.

That boat was his life. So he decided he'd wait as long as he needed to before it was safe to head back.

He made sure to stay in the darker alleys as he approached one of the many overpasses connecting one end of the city to the other, a bridge that hung tens of feet above the flowing water of the canal. He'd have to crash underneath it for the night. The police didn't care about the people sleeping under the bridge. They never did.

The darkness was eerily empty as he pulled himself down, shivering slightly in the cold as he pushed dirt around, cleaning up a small corner underneath the overpass. He gathered sticks to make a fire and tried his best to make the place as comfortable as he could.

As he hummed to himself, hoping to fall asleep quickly, he kept his eyes on the canal, water rushing down, waves crashing against the shore, just a few feet away from him.

He found the noise soothing, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he listened to the chaotic, unpredictable rhythm. It was beautiful.

And then he heard it.

Four notes.

His eyes shot open and he swiveled his head around, searching for where the noise could have come from. He stood up, approaching the water and looking to the left, where the canal just began to connect to the ocean and a couple of large rocks stood in the distance, protruding out of the water.

Lying on one of them...was you.

The girl he saw just a few days back. Your head peeking out of the water at him, that pretty smile on your face. He wasn't sure who you were...he wasn't even sure if you were human.

But he just knew he had to grab your attention.

"Hey!" he shouted out, waving his arms at you like a madman, walking along the shore towards where you were. "Over here!"

Your head snapped towards where he was and you leaped off the rock, disappearing beneath the water.

His smile fell.

"Wait! Wait no come back!" he yelled, starting to jog over to the rocks, nearly slipping on the wet surface near the edge as he got on his knees and looked over. "Come back." he pleaded, searching beneath the waves.

For a moment...he thought he'd scared you away.

But then he saw your head poking out of the water again. His breath hitched in his throat as you slowly waded over to him, sleek arms pushing the water back as you swam.

"Hi." he said softly, afraid he might scare you. A moment of silence passed as you stared up at him and him at you. "Do you remember me?" he whispered.

You nodded. He grinned. "Really?" he leaned in a little closer, cocking his head to the side slightly. "I-uh, what are you?"

He watched as you copied him, cocking your head to the side as well. You giggled, eyes lighting up. "What am I?" You repeated, an endearing smile on your face.

He nodded. "You're...not human, are you?"

You shook your head no, eyes twinkling up at him.

"So...what are you?" he asked, eagerly leaning in a little more.

"I do not know what you humans call us...but we are known as Seireines."

He cocked his head to the side in response, thinking for a moment. "You mean a siren? You're a siren?"

You blinked. "If that is what you call us, I suppose that is what I am."

"Sirens aren't real" he said with a wide grin. "At least...I didn't believe they were. What're you doing in London?" he asked curiously.

"I...I'm not sure." You said softly, looking around as if you were noticing your surroundings for the first time. "I just remember swimming, as fast as I could, to get away." your voice sounded very far away as you spoke, recalling your last few memories.

"To get away from what?" he questioned curiously, sitting back and looking down at you.

Your eyes snapped back towards him. "To get away from you. Your people." You let out a shaky sigh, submerging your shoulders and bottom half of your neck under the water again, staring up at him sadly. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes. "The hunters. They were after us."

"Hey, hey, don't cry" he said, reaching his hand out and grabbing onto yours, pulling it out from under the water. "Why were they after you? What did they want?"

"We are different from them. They want to kill us, to study us. My people...my family...all taken. All gone."

His heart dropped as he watched you, tears streaming down your face. "Don't cry. Shh." he whispered, wiping your tears away and pulling you up a little out of the water. "Who are these hunters? What are they called? Do you know?"

You hesitated for a moment. "I remember them talking to their leader. They called him...

Kraven."

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A/N

Sorry this is kind of short but part two!! I'm gonna turn this into an actual story probably so enjoy <3 Make sure to fill out the taglist form if you want to be tagged in the next ones, I've attached the link below!! Have a great rest of your week lovelies

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @choccymilkdrinker @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther @trash-panda-xoxo @0strawberrysorbet0

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strangemagicc · 17 days

Text

Nobody Has To Know | Chapter Three

masterlist | <prev | next>

pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader

summary: after a steamy morning you’re met with a pretty surprise.

author’s note: remember when I said it was going to be sour? 😀 just the slightest dose of upset, a tiny dose of what’s to come. I hope you enjoy this chapter, their story is just getting started 🖤 comments/reblogs and any type of feedback is always so appreciated 🫶🏻

w/c: 5.6k

warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), mentions of poverty (struggling to pay bills), drug use/underage drinking, discussions of illicit activities, and the tiniest / briefest hint of smut

Rays of sunlight attempted to push through the dense clouds swirling in the dark sky creating a pale glow amongst the gray expanse.

The air smelled of wet earth and mingled with the pungent smell of restaurant waste, a scent that clung to you in the humidity.

You plopped yourself onto one of the borrowed chairs, taken from the restaurant next door’s throwaway pile. Its purple velvet was still slightly damp from the earlier rainfall but you didn’t care, ignoring the way it soaked into the denim of your jeans.

It had been a busy day since Eddie had dropped you off. The afternoon rush had finally died down into a steady lull as the hours continued to tick by. Slow and agonizing but bringing you closer to when he picked you up just like he’d promised when he dropped you off.

You pressed a finger to your mouth tracing the plush flesh. Your body still vibrated long after you arrived at work, the ghost of Eddie’s touch still felt against your skin.

Against your lips. Like the low hum of electricity and every so often you caught yourself smiling. Cheeks warmed over remembering the way he felt pressed against you and it was so fucking distracting.

All day you’d made mistakes, thoughts partially in the clouds and barely on the tasks you needed to complete. Mind still scrambled with everything that had happened.

There was a war of feelings taking place in your chest, ricocheting against your skull. Consuming your every thought because it was only twenty-four hours ago that you were in a relationship.

Committed to a boy you thought you were going to marry.

And it was only a day ago that you had a best friend, someone you would’ve confided in about something like this.

About Simon.

About Eddie.

You tilted your chin to the sky, eyes closed as pictures of his amber gaze flashed across your eyelids.

Silence, sweet needed silence, engulfed you as you basked in the sun.

Slow even breaths escaped your lips as you enjoyed the way the rays felt against your skin, how the hot air washed over you and erased the tension that had made a home of your shoulders.

And despite the sweat building along your scalp, it felt like an oasis.

The back alley had become a haven away from the never-ending throngs of children that had infiltrated the cinema for the latest installment of Despicable Me.

Their incessant screams still rang in your ear, loud and shrill.

You couldn’t help but groan thinking about returning to your spot behind the concession stand, the minutes of your break going by faster than the rest of your shift.

The back door opened, the loud squeal of the metal interrupting your peace and you listened as heavy footsteps approached. Bracing.

“There you are, Little Lipton,” Eddie greeted and you sighed heavily at the nickname, throwing your head against the chair. Doing your best to ignore him as he approached, a smirk you couldn’t see playing on his lips as he watched you.

He noticed your loud silence, his crooked smile growing into a wide grin.

“Ignoring me, Lipton? That’s so unlike you,” his words dripped with sarcasm.

“Have you come to add to the torture I’ve already had to endure?” You questioned, slightly dramatic and still avoiding his gaze. Though you could feel the way it roamed over your features.

“The combination of screaming kids and sticky floors not your favorite?”

He plopped into the chair next to you, pounding the box of cigarettes against his palm.

“I’d say it’s right up there with you calling me Little Lipton,” you gestured in the air so he knew where he ranked.

“Remember when I said I had a talent to antagonize and annoy?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, sitting up in the chair.

“A real maestro of irritation and vexation,” you agreed, a tight smile on your lips when you finally looked at him.

“Ah, someone’s been reading a thesaurus,” he pointed at you with his cigarette before placing it between his lips and lighting its end.

You swallowed harshly and shifted your attention elsewhere, ignoring the way your heart thudded when you noticed how his brown eyes turned a pretty shade of honey under the sun’s rays.

His gaze remained focused on you. Smirking when your face twisted with sarcasm, mocking his words as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

Eddie noticed the way your eyes bulged as you hurriedly tapped a notification you’d received.

Your gaze darted across the screen as you read through an email detailing an upcoming independent film contest. One that you had been dying to enter for years and finally you were old enough to.

“You ok?” Eddie asked sincerely, wondering what had you so stricken.

You let out a loud groan as you neared the end of the email, dropping your phone into your lap. The deadline was four months away. You wouldn’t have enough money saved up by then. Not when half of your check went to helping with bills just as your brother’s did.

“I’m fine, nothing serious,” you shrugged, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

“Care to expand on the theatrics?”

You shook your head, settling into your thoughts. A silence took over you as you grasped at ideas to get the money, to enter the contest but came up short.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, your frustration getting the best of you and Eddie didn’t ask, watching as you worked through the irritation. Waiting until you decided to share with him, if you decided to.

A few moments passed, Eddie taking drags off his cigarette while you stared into space. Antsy leg bouncing until you finally spilled.

“It’s just some stupid film contest I want to enter, it would get me some spare change for school and look good on my transcripts so I can get the hell out of here. Maybe even get my name outside of the Hawkins city limits,” you laughed.

Dare to dream.

“So what’s the problem?” He tapped the butt of his cigarette, ash falling off the lit end and onto the pavement.

“I don’t have a camera,” you shrugged, stating it simply.

“What happened to the one you had? Used to chase us around with that thing all the time,” He chuckled as he recalled the summer you made him act like the creature from the Lost Lagoon. Emerging from Lover’s Lake over and over again. Brown curls sopping wet sticking to his face, fingers and toes pruned.

The only camera you ever had was the one your dad gave to you for your eighth birthday, your most prized possession. The only thing he’d ever bought you.

“It broke. And I won’t have enough money saved up in time to fix it or to get a new one o-or to film something even worth submitting,” you sighed deeply and met his gaze, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It felt odd ranting to Eddie, talking to him about things you’d only ever revealed to your best friend.

He knew of your circumstances, your history and you knew of his. There were worse things the both of you had endured.

“But there’s always next year, right?” You stated, trying to change the subject. Trying not to look like you were throwing a pity party or seeking out sympathy.

He didn’t buy your faux optimism but he grinned and nodded in agreement.

“Always next year.”

“(Y/N)?”

You tensed at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening as you lowered your chin. Simon’s familiar blue gaze stared back at you, hesitancy evident in his stiff shoulders and the way he kept a few feet between the two of you.

“What are you doing here?”

It was as though everything had shifted, Simon more a stranger to you than he had ever been.

You peered at his face, the bags under his eyes more prominent. A brush of lavender bleeding into his fading summer tan. He hadn’t shaved, the stubble of his growing beard creating a shadow along his jaw. The one you used to trace while the two of you lay in your bed or when you were a passenger in his car on those sporadic drives into Indianapolis.

The one that Rachel held last night.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shoving his hands into the pocket of his baby blue hoodie, the one you bought him two years ago.

“You haven’t been responding to my texts,” he shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Staring at the gravel.

The silence between you was heavy, palpable, and there were a million things you could say.

A million that you wanted to but it all felt pointless.

“I’m at work, Simon.”

He nodded, jaw clenching as he swallowed the emotion climbing up from his chest.

“Well, looks like you’re on break right now.”

He shrugged and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Pushing your back off the chair as your heart rate sped up. Venom coating your tongue.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“No?” He looked at you now, deep blues glittering with anger as he pulled his hands from his hoodie. Holding them up at his side in disbelief. As though it were obvious that you had plenty to talk about.

“How about the fact that you left with Eddie Munson last night?”

And you hated the way he said Eddie’s name with a hint of disgust.

You laughed incredulously, shaking your head and looking up at the muddied blue sky. He really didn’t know that you knew…or he wasn’t going to give it up. Wasn’t going to confess.

The silence stretched on as he waited for you to respond, as you worked up the courage to confront him.

Images of him and Rachel played back in your head like a bad movie and the emotion you’d ignored settled into your sternum.

“How long have you been fucking my best friend?”

You looked back at him and watched the way his gaze grew, round like saucers. The way his mouth dropped open and his hands fell to his side, throat bobbing as he swallowed. His complexion grew a shade paler.

“W-what are you talking about?” He stammered, his words just above a whisper.

The laugh that escaped you couldn’t be helped and you slapped your knee as though you hadn’t heard anything funnier, as though there weren’t tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“Don’t bother lying,” your laugh died down and you stood, not moving towards him. Folding your arms across your chest.

He didn’t respond, cheeks blooming a deep red. A crease forming between his brows.

“I saw you, both of you! How long, Simon?” The emotion was evident in your words, the air between you had grown heavier.

“Four months,” he whispered and it felt like your stomach dropped because even though you had been with Eddie this morning it did not stop the heartbreak you felt finally facing the truth.

That your relationship was over.

That you no longer had a boyfriend or a best friend.

“Four months,” you repeated, nodding your head as the truth settled over you.

“You’ve been sleeping with my best friend for four months and have the audacity to be mad at me because I haven’t texted you? Because I got a ride from Eddie after I saw the two of you? Why the fuck would I want to talk to you!”

It wasn’t the full truth but it was all he deserved to hear.

“We wanted to tell you,” he stepped toward you, hand extended and instinctively you moved away from him, knocking into the chair behind you.

“So you’re a ‘we’ now?”

He didn’t respond, guilt written on his face.

“Well, now you’ve told me,” you sniffled, shrugging your shoulder before turning back towards the employee door, hand reaching for the doorknob.

“Stop texting me, and tell your girlfriend to leave me alone too.”

You didn’t wait for a response, pulling the door open and stepping into the cool manufactured air that smelled of buttered popcorn.

Anger coursed through you and your heart thrummed violently in your chest. Nausea crept into your throat, your mouth watering and vomit threatened to make your day much worse.

“Lipton!” You jolted at the sound of Huntzberger’s booming voice and pressed your back against the cool metal door for stability.

Or maybe it would just be Mark that made it worse.

“Yes, sir?” you turned to him with tense shoulders, anticipating what he was going to say. You’d nearly gone your entire shift without conflict but, of course, he had to be there to live up to your expectations.

To make sure a day didn’t go by where he wasn’t scolding you.

He perched against the counter of the concession stand, calling you over with a tilt of his head and you obliged, approaching his tall frame warily. Hands clasped behind your back, wringing with worry.

Over the years the harshness of his words had only grown sharper and despite how much you despised him, despised the job, you needed it.

“Heard you were thirty minutes late,” he clicked his teeth, disappointment coloring his features a shade of red.

“Had some car trouble,” you nodded and he raised a brow at you.

“You don’t drive.”

Your aversion to driving wasn’t much of a secret and before Simon, it was always your brother dropping you off.

“Didn’t say it was my car,” your jaw clenched as you tried to bite back the attitude that was clawing its way forward.

“I expect my assistant managers to be punctual,” he pointed his finger at you, “This is your one warning. Don’t let it happen again.”

He pushed off the counter and turned before you could respond, your shoulders sagging as a deep sigh escaped your mouth.

You could feel the eyes of your associates on you, some amused and others concerned. None of them at all surprised by the standoff.

Not when it happened at least once a week, Huntzberger’s threat a little tired.

Overused.

“Are you alright?” Barbara walked up and stood beside you, hand on your elbow. Brown eyes wide with concern.

“Just another day with Mark,” you gave her a sad smile.

“Well, luckily your day is ending,” she chuckled and looked towards your manager.

“Mine is only beginning,” she whined, looking back at you with a grimace and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

“But he likes you.”

“Barely! I am one bad closing shift from being on the other side of that very fine line.”

“Let’s hope that’s not tonight,” you turned towards the counter with a wave of your hand.

“I restocked everything in the back, started inventory so you can do the order and everyone has been to lunch. Hopefully, it’ll be pretty easy to stay on Huntzberger’s good side tonight.”

“You’re heaven-sent, I could kiss you.” she shook you lightly by your shoulders, “Now run before he comes back.”

You laughed with her but took her advice, quickly walking towards the employee locker room to grab your bag after a quick goodbye.

Excitement pushed its way past the anger and to the surface because in ten minutes Eddie would be outside to pick you up just like he’d promised and you wondered how things would be different, if there would be another kiss.

If he would pull over on the way home for more than just a kiss.

You reached into your locker and grabbed your belongings. Plopping onto the bench to freshen up your appearance. A fresh coat of lipgloss. A comb through your hair. A quick spritz of your perfume. Anything to distract from the giddiness evident in the way your fingers shook.

Your phone buzzed incessantly from your pocket and you rolled your eyes, reaching for it without looking and throwing it into your bag.

Shut up, Simon.

You took a few steadying breaths, reminding yourself that this was just Eddie. The guy you’d known practically your whole life.

He’d seen you through all your embarrassing moments, and awkward life stages. And just because you’d made out, rounded a few bases, didn’t mean it had to be weird.

Right?

Except there was that whole childhood crush bit that couldn’t be ignored.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pressed your fingers to your forehead in an attempt to push the nervous thoughts back into your skull.

“It’s just Eddie,” you tried to convince yourself again.

Just Eddie.

You dragged your feet into work, your uniform shirt untucked. Appearance more disheveled than usual. It had been a long week, a long month, and the last place you wanted to be was here.

Over the last thirty days, your mom had grown increasingly ill; headaches and nausea a constant companion. It had become so bad that she had to give up her second job, no longer able to maintain the taxing schedule, and now your summer job had become a permanent one.

All the money you made went towards bills that she was already struggling to catch up on and you didn’t mind, weren’t mad.

But the pressure felt heavy on your shoulders, you and your brother were doing everything you could to help keep the family afloat.

And it felt like a selfish thought, a childish need. To want to quit, to just be a kid. To be with your friends who were spending their nights at a party, at the lake, or at the county fair.

You just wanted a break.

A headache pounded behind your eyes, one that matched the thrum of your heart, and you sighed heavily as you flung open the door of your locker.

The metal creaked loudly causing you to wince and you pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, shrugging off your hoodie to hang on the hook.

Your hands froze on the cotton of your jacket when something caught your eye, slumping to your sides as you studied the surprise.

Face twisted with confusion.

It was a brown paper bag from Walton’s Grocery Store tapped together haphazardly. Little Lipton scribbled on the side in sharpie.

You glanced around the employee room, not noticing anyone lingering nearby before you turned your attention back to the present. Hesitantly you reached for it, the weight of the package heavy in your hands.

It was like Christmas morning, the sound of shredding paper loud as you unwrapped it hastily.

Underneath the brown paper wrappings was a camera.

The same camera you’d been eying with a note attached.

The same haphazard scribble as on the package.

Surprise vibrated through your veins and made your cheeks blossom a deeper shade. Tears sprang forward, a mix of happiness and a release of the stress you’d been carrying.

You wiped your tears until the only evidence of them was your red-rimmed eyes and placed the package back in your locker, slamming it shut before speed-walking towards the concession stand.

Eddie stood behind the counter, back facing you. Head full of curls pulled into a sloppy ponytail. He turned as he heard you approach, eyes lighting up as he watched you near.

“Hey, Spiel-“ he began, a crooked smile aimed in your direction when you crashed against his frame. Arms wrapped around his waist, face in his chest, swallowing down the sobs that were working their way up your throat.

Uncle Wayne wasn’t the most affectionate man and Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged so for a moment he hesitated. Unsure whether to wrap his arms around you.

Slowly, his body sank into the embrace. Arms twining around your waist.

The moment stretched on until you pulled away and looked up at him. Affection evident in the way your eyes shined as they searched his.

“Thank you so much, Eds,” your smile was wide.

Radiant.

Made Eddie’s heart lurch at the sight.

“Don’t even mention it,” he cleared his throat, doing his best to sound unaffected.

To seem nonchalant about the whole thing.

To convince himself that he wasn’t developing a crush on his best friend’s sister.

Eddie was nervous, hands beating against the steering wheel as he pulled along the curb outside of Hawk Theater. You stood there waving with a wide smile, your excitement evident and it was obvious you hadn’t read his texts.

Weren’t aware that his passenger seat was already occupied by a date he’d agreed to long before this morning.

He noticed the way your smile faltered for a split second.

Your gaze racked over her. She was beautiful in an obvious way; long chestnut hair that fell in waves framing her heart-shaped face and emerald eyes outlined by perfectly applied makeup.

The kind of girl you might see in a fashion magazine.

The kind of girl you didn’t want to see on a date with the guy you’d just given head to hours ago.

“Climb in the back,” she pointed her head towards the sliding doors, and the way your face twisted at her words was not lost on Eddie.

He watched you from the rearview as you settled in, the way your eyes bored into his carpet and how you played with the skin along your nails. Refusing to look at him and fuck, he just needed you to read your got damn texts.

His date turned toward you, her fingers playing absently in his hair. Wrapping his curls around her pointer, gently tugging.

“I’m Cassandra,” you didn’t verbalize a response and simply nodded.

“You must be Rick’s little sister,” she continued and Eddie winced as you snorted at her observation.

“Yup, that’s me. Little Lipton.”

His eyes darted from the road and to the rearview mirror watching as you rolled your eyes.

“So Eddie said your brother has these parties every Saturday?”

“Something like that.” Your response was curt, none too keen to talk to her.

“That’s so cool,” she enthused.

“The coolest.” You mocked her tone and Eddie was praying to whatever deity was out there that he’d be struck by lightning.

The rest of the ride was spent in suffocating silence, Cassandra oblivious to the energy shifting between you and Eddie.

You watched as the town center disappeared behind you, the sides of the road becoming more dense with trees the closer you got to your home and you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

Save you from this embarrassment.

And you knew you had no right to be jealous because one morning of shower sex does not a relationship make.

But you were jealous, the ugly green monster on your shoulder rearing its head.

Because Simon wanted Rachel and Eddie wanted Cassandra and no one wanted you.

The thought made you nauseous, stomach-churning and the moment Eddie’s car stopped you bolted from the van and into your room.

You stared at your computer, the cursor blinking at you. An unfinished word document staring back, reflecting your sad gaze.

All week you had planned to finish the script for your short film but now your mind was elsewhere.

On the other side of the wall, looking cute in his tight jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his biceps just right.

Someone sitting on his lap that wasn’t you.

You groaned, eyes glancing up at the TV.

Bridget Jones's Diary played. The one movie, besides How To Be Single, that someone recently heartbroken shouldn’t watch.

You watched as Bridget wailed, singing Celine Dion in her hysterics.

Her melancholy mirroring yours.

Raucous laughs could be overheard from the other room where Rick was entertaining his small group of friends in the garage.

It was like this most Saturdays; the hushed murmurs and infectious laughs from those in attendance over the low hum of a random indie playlist on Spotify.

The pungent smell of weed seeped through the thin walls and overpowered the scent of your candle warmer. The fourth scent you’d tried with no luck.

It made you nauseous, the smell making you think of the night prior.

The party and the aftermath.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head, determined to finish editing the first draft of your script.

The keys tapped aggressively under your fingers as you typed out a scene, the scene. The one where the hero rescues the girl - saves her from ultimate doom, and after an hour of build-up, he gets to kiss her. Soft, slow, all the longing finally expressed.

But does the jerk even deserve to?

Did she ask to be saved from ultimate doom?

To be driven home or to work?

The words stared back at you, your anger reflected in black and white.

There was no way the script was getting done.

You slammed your laptop shut and turned off the TV, walking the short space to your bed and throwing yourself into the comforter.

Your mind wandered back to Eddie.

To Cassandra.

And even the small voice in your head was mocking.

You imagined them cuddled on the couch, kisses shared between rotations of the shared blunt.

Hands wandering despite the many eyes around the room.

A loud groan escaped your lips and you slammed your head repeatedly against a pillow in an effort to forcibly remove the image of them that you had conjured up.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Your body stiffened, the sound of rustling outside your window startling you. Slowly, you peeked from beneath your covers, breath catching in your throat when you caught a glimpse of a shadow.

You crawled out of your bed, shaky hands reaching for the tennis racket under your bed.

Hesitantly you approached the window, racket held in front of you ready to wail on whatever intruder or paranormal entity waited on the other side.

A head bobbed up causing you to lurch back, a scream caught in your throat. The tennis racket falling onto the carpet with a soft thud.

Relief washed over you when Eddie’s familiar gaze met yours and you watched as he struggled, pulling himself up. Briefly pointing to the window signaling you to open it. Feet slipping on the fragile trellis he was using to hoist himself up.

Your shoulders fell and you leaned over, pushing the window open. Wincing when the glass screeched in protest.

“Hey,” he gruffed, pulling himself up a little further and resting his elbows on the sill. Arms strained, his neck muscles pushing out as he reached to pull himself in.

“What are you doing a-and why the fuck are you outside my window?” You raised a curious hand at him before resting both of them on your hips. Confusion written in the way your brows married together.

“Easier than using the front door,” he explained, a little out of breath. Fingers turning white from the grip he had on the window sill.

“How?”

“Are you going to move so I can come in?” He grumbled and you stepped aside, helping him the rest of the way through. You took a step back from him the minute he was safely in.

Eddie stood with a heavy sigh and wiggled his arms as blood began to properly pump through them again, taking the opportunity to look around your room.

He smirked at the posters that lined your lilac walls; various bands and movies you adored. Above your desk he noticed polaroids pinned to a corkboard, some from your years in highschool pinned to its surface. Others were ones that you’d taken that summer at the theater. His heart faltered for a moment when he noticed the one of the two of you together, little hearts scribbled around his face.

He smiled remembering the way you’d ambushed him when you were both on break, the flash of the camera blinding like a neuralyzer. Your giggles loud when he joked you’d wiped his memory just like in Men In Black.

“Again, what are you doing here?” You stepped into his line of sight, eyebrows raised and waiting for a response.

He cut his eyes to you and back to your desk, sighing deeply. Not ready to broach the subject.

“Working on another movie?” He questioned, his grin growing as he caught sight of the camera he’d surprised you with those years ago.

You never did get the opportunity to enter the contest that summer.

“Stop changing the subject,” you turned and plopped onto your mattress, eyebrow raised and waiting for his response to your previous question.

“Um, you haven’t responded to my texts.” He shifted his weight, hands shoved into his pockets and glancing back at you.

You groaned, throwing your hands into the air.

Not this again.

Eddie took you in, eying the way your knit shorts fit; slightly snug and the hem of them hitting just below your ass. Your pale green tank top left little to the imagination, clinging to your breasts and revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. The bud of your nipples popped through the thin material in response to the cool air that blew through the window. He swallowed hard, mind wandering to the morning you’d shared.

To the image of you on your knees in front of him.

“I haven’t looked at my phone all day,” you shrugged, absently pointing to your bag where it had remained since you got off work.

Breaking Eddie from his dirty thoughts.

“Wait, why does that matter?” Your hand dropped and you looked at him perplexed.

“I wasn’t trying to catch you off guard w-with,” he pulled a hand from his pocket, lifting it slightly and pointed towards the door.

“Your date?”

Eddie nodded and you chuckled slightly. Without much humor.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Eds,” you shrugged, completely nonchalant.

Barely hiding the fact that he did indeed owe you one.

“I met her like a month ago and made these plans. I would never, um,” his eyes darted around your room, nervous hands fidgeting at his sides.

“Schedule a date the same day you ate me out?” You finished for him, loving the way his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“I tried to text you to let you know so it wouldn’t be a surprise. I had forgotten I had agreed to bring her last week, told her to meet me at my place and I’d drive us.”

“Such a gentleman.” You pulled your legs onto the mattress and hugged your knees close. A small giggle escaped your lips because the timing of it all truly was ridiculous.

“I really am sorry,” he finally met your gaze, sincerity evident. Almost palpable.

You nodded at him, resting your chin on your knee.

“She’s pretty,” you murmured, changing the subject.

His tongue pushed into his cheek because regardless of his response there was no winning. If he disagreed you’d know he was lying. If he agreed, he ran the risk of being pushed back out the window.

“You’re beautiful,” and he meant it. His thoughts were not on the brunette in the other room, his focus entirely on you.

“You’re definitely just saying that,” you pushed off your knees with a roll of your eyes but Eddie shook his head enjoying the way your cheeks blossomed a darker shade.

“I’m not.”

You stood and closed the space between the two of you, toe to toe with his heavy boots. Playing with the hem of his shirt, walking your fingers up his torso.

His apology and his compliment were almost enough to make you get over it but you decided teasing him was too fun.

“Look if you want to date other people,” you looked up at him from under your lashes.

He didn’t.

“I’ll date other people too. I mean, I just got out of a relationship, this could just be fun. We could just have fun.”

“Fun,” he repeated and you nodded, hand settling on his chest as you gazed at him.

Mind a little fuzzy with want.

“Let’s just have fun, Eddie.”

You leaned closer to him, the spearmint from his gum invading your senses.

Your nose traced his, lips hovering over the plush of his pout.

Savoring the way his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin. Pushing the top of your shorts down so he could loop his thumb under the material of your panties and pull you flush against his chest.

You swallowed hard, your own game getting harder to play but god, it was worth losing.

His lips pushed against yours, far from soft. Hard and greedy. Swallowing the moan the sudden impact elicited. Tongue tracing your lower lip, pulling it between his pout with a soft tug.

Your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling lightly. Hard enough to evoke a groan from him.

His teeth dragged along your jaw, nipping at the skin. Tracing his tongue over your carotid, your heart pulsing against the rough wet flesh.

Eddie sucked the skin between his lips, one hand leaving your hip to cup your breast. Pinching your nipple between his fingers.

Your hand pushed under his shirt, fingernails scraping against his skin.

He guided you to the bed, your legs falling from under you until you were a mix of limbs on your mattress. His knee slotted between your legs, hands resting on either side of your head. Your fingers pushed hastily at his shirt until it revealed the patch of hair that trailed into his jeans.

You traced it, grinding against his knee. Relishing the way the evidence of his arousal was pressed into your thigh.

His eyes clenched shut, fists gripping your blankets.

Eddie pressed his forehead against yours, breaths coming out ragged. Uneven.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned, and you traced his lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Peppering kisses towards the sensitive skin between his jaw and his ear.

“I want you,” you whispered, nipping at his earlobe. Warm breath fanning against his skin causing goosebumps to sprout along his pale flesh.

“But not with your date in the other room,” you pushed at his chest, the thud of his heart just under your palm.

His molten gaze was hooded with need. His signature crooked grin slotting into place.

“Fair enough, sweetheart.”

bonus scene: Eddie’s freak out

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