#the fucking mess in distress isn’t ready | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#the fucking mess in distress isn’t ready

acacia-luna-royal · 2 years

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Clink Clink to all the Baddest, Beautiful Besties here on tumblr as we suffer through the final episode of KinnPorsche (I'm not crying). I'm not ready, no one is and the fact that we won't have this to look forward to every Saturday just breaks my heart. I'll miss the show, the rollercoaster of emotions it has put me through though I wouldn't change this amazing experience for the world. I'll miss the beautiful, talented and amazing cast that stole my heart and made me fall in love faster than I ever thought possible. I'll miss Be On Cloud and all the treats they would give us, damn they always kept us fed and watered; most considerate production company I have ever seen or known of. And I will miss all of the amazing people on Tumblr, all the lovely, amazingly talented beauties here on Tumblr that I have interacted with and made friends with. The ones that have helped me get through the emotional distress of the episodes as they went on, and I want to thank all of you.

I'll miss you all so much when we run out of things to talk about and it's gonna break me (damn, I'm already half way there) but here's the last virtual hand for KinnPorsche the Series; a hand for you to hold when we all simultaneously break down and our hearts break more than they already have. We're in this turmoil together and we'll suffer together just like we have been all this time.

So reblog if you’d like and tag all your Tumblrina besties and send them a heart.

♥️🤝🏻💜

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emmyrosee · 1 year

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@llovelykris I got your ask and I do enjoy it a lot, but please understand I did change the prompt slightly, so I could feel as comfortable I could with writing it ❤️

Tw // nightmares, night terrors, mentions of death

—-

It’s the fourth night in a row this shit woke you up.

Tonight, the nightmare completely had you blindsided, a deep-rooted terror that you should be completely accustomed to facing, but tonight for one reason or another, this one in particular was… aggressive.

Maybe it’s because Bakugou was right next to you. Maybe it’s because it’s been a few days since you heard from your family. Whatever the case, it snapped you cold out of a sleep, and you were far from being ready to sleep again, where as nights just prior, you'd been able to doze back off.

With a small grunt of effort you swing your legs over the side of the bed and toe on some slippers, letting your exhausted bones shamble you into the kitchen. You rest your pounding head against the coldness of the fridge and after waiting a moment for your world to stop spinning, you grab the container of grapes, letting the initial tartness ground you.

It was just a nightmare. Just a fucking nightamare, why is this the nightmare that's going to keep you up?

“The hell are you doing up?”

You turn from your bowl of grapes to face your interrupter, whose hair is somehow more wild and crazy, and his cheeks rosy from being pulled from sleep. You shrug and look back down at your fruit, “just… couldn’t sleep.”

“You were knocked out when I got up to pee an hour ago,” he says, voice grumbling. You chuckle softly at the silly phrasing, and you grab a grape, holding it up for him to take with his teeth. He does, and he opens the fridge to take a sip of milk straight out of the carton.

You scoff, “I told you not to do that.”

“And I told you that you’re not usually supposed to see when I do it.” You offer him a string of laughter, grateful for his attempts of making you at ease. There’s a low arm that wraps around your waist, and a forehead that rests against your temple. “You wanna talk about it?”

“You’ve got milk breath,” you tease. You earn a pinch to the ribs to make you yelp and squirm slightly away from him, and he chuckles before pulling you back and closer.

“Don’t be a damn ass. Don’t want you stayin’ up if it’s something we can work through together.”

Goosebumps raise over your skin and you gnaw at your lip, fingers messing with the container you’re holding. You take a deep breath, waiting for him to press and pry further, but he doesn’t. Katsuki never does, even if he wants to pretend like he’s not, he’s the most patient and understanding soul that you’ve had the privilege to know, and right now, you hate him for respecting your boundaries. You want him to jump to conclusions and make his own judgement about you and your struggles, but he doesn’t. He just lets out rhythmic breathing against your pounding head.

“I just had a nightmare,” you say, minimizing the magnitude of your distress. “It’s fine.”

He snarls softly in the back of his throat, “stop lying to me, fucking god. This isn’t my first rodeo, I can read you like a book. Spill, or we’re gonna keep our asses planted right damn here.”

You gnaw at your lip and gently pull away from him. You do anything and everything to avoid having to talk to him: putting the fruit away, filling a cup with water before chugging it down to relieve your cottonmouth, cracking your toes against the hardwood, anything to break up the silence.

But he’s not budging.

It’s something you both admire and hate about Katsuki, when his mind tells him something is important, he’s not moving from it. It’s a healthy form of communication, up until you literally would rather do anything but talk to him.

And even then, he’s unrelenting.

“You’re gonna love me regardless of what I say, right? This won’t make you unlove me?”

“I’ll give you a firm ‘probably,’” he says in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you don’t laugh. He sighs softly and nods, “of course not. There’s minimal you could do to make me not like you, unfortunately.”

That, finally, does make you laugh, and you nod softly as you try to find the easiest way to explain your trauma from these nightmares, your fears and concerns, yet familiarity with them and how sometimes, that’s the scariest part of them all.

They’re so familiar. They’re so vivid. Sometimes, you can’t tell which is real. And that’s terrifying, and something you never thought you’d have to face with Katsuki.

“They’re… theyre dark, Katsuki,” you say lowly, averting your gaze. “There’s a lot of destruction and death and shit I don’t want to face in real life, death and shit for people I love most, and they’ve plagued my nightmares for years and it’s just something I have to deal with now. And I try to keep them out of my life if I can help it.”

He says nothing, you almost wonder if he feels guilty for “forcing” you to say what happens- he never actually forced you to say it, but Katsuki roams in his own layer of insecurity for pushing you. You sigh and angle your head to look at him, his eyes soft and teeth sinking into his lip.

“But… but I can’t,” you snarl softly, brows furrowing slightly. “I’ve tried so hard for years, I’ve done everything I could do to break these damn terrors but nothing fucking works, and sometimes, I just need to not be near people when they happen because I’m terrified they’ll become real, okay?”

He moves his gaze softly, “you’re… you’re really strong for having to go through that.”

You snort, “yeah. Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He takes a small step back to give you some room, eyes gently flicking up and down as if to ensure you were alright. “That’s some traumatizing shit. And I wish I could make it easier.” His words have you softening, shifting to rest back into his arms. You burrow your face in the dip of his pec’s, and his arms tighten around you protectively.

You sigh, “it’s just… hard to tell people about it. This shit doesn’t make me a bad person, and it’s always taken so far-“

“Of fuckin’ course you’re not a bad person,” he grumbles, pulling back again to have you look at him again; there’s confidence in his gaze, and it has you reeling slightly. “You’ve got no fuckin’ say in what happens in your dreams, and anyone who’s made you feel bad about them isn’t someone who deserves your damn time.”

You swallow back your embarrassment and look at him pitifully, “you don’t think I’m… bad? Or scary?”

He rolls his eyes, “do I fuckin’ seem like I’m scared to you? I’m up at ass crack of morning, freezing my balls off to coddle you in the damn middle of the kitchen. You couldn’t scare a bunny if you tried, let alone my stubborn ass.”

His grumbles do have you laughing watery against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting the relief of his lack of judgement course through your heavy veins.

“You don’t have to worry about them becoming real. I’d never let shit happen to you, or your family, or friends, or anyone; especially the shit your mind conjures up. Never.” His words are firm and comforting, and they have your eyes closing as you’re soothed.

These terrors may haunt you. Who knows when they’ll break. But as long as you can talk about them, discuss them with someone you worship and adore, maybe, just maybe, you can gather the strength to get through a night’s sleep.

One of peace. One you’re convinced you now deserve.

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alovesongtheywrote · 7 months

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Hide and Seek | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary: When your first meeting with boyfriend's family goes off the rails to a murderous degree, you call your cute co-worker for help. as it turns out, he has a couple demonic tricks up his sleeves [Demon!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. graphic violence, extreme gore, a rape metaphor, threats of sa, vomiting, stabbing, murder and attempted murder, gun related violence, violence against women, derogatory terms used for the reader by someone other than eddie (whore, slut, skank), multiple side characters infer that the only purpose of individuals with wombs is to have children/make sacrifices for others, unprotected sex, p in v sex, mild breeding kink, monster fucking, angst, mediocre smut imo, fluff. if you've ever seen ready or not, take that, and combine it with labour paris paloma. if i missed anything, please let me know so i can tag it

♥ A/N: other content tags include: modern au. demon au. there's vague lore to this, i might write a follow up. for more author's note, please check the bottom of this post.

♥ Word count: 23041

♥♥♥

“Grace couldn't be happier after she marries the man of her dreams at his family's luxurious estate. There's just one catch- she must now hide from midnight until dawn while her new in-laws hunt her down with guns, crossbows and other weapons.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you hissed, snatching the movie away from your coworker, “Do not read that shit to me right now, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

A laugh slipped out from Eddie’s soft lips as he scrunched his face up in sympathy, “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands, “I never should’ve agreed to this. I’m so stupid.”

Eddie shrugged, pouting slightly, “No, you’re stupid for other reasons. This isn’t stupid. This is far from stupid. You’re just meeting your boyfriend’s family, I mean, that was gonna happen one way or another, right?”

You didn’t give a verbal response right away. You just let out a pained scream, muffling the sound of it with your palms.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Eddie gave your arm a sympathetic pat.

“It’s just,” you pulled your hands away from your face, “It feels so soon- and I didn’t think my first meeting with them would be a weekend long getaway at their giant fucking mansion. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that? A giant fucking mansion? Who the fuck has a giant mansion in this economy?”

“Your boyfriend’s parents.”

You let out another distressed sound, “I mean, I knew Roman had money, I just… I didn’t know it was McMansion money.”

Eddie nodded, hopping up on the counter of the always quiet video store, “I see. So what exactly are you afraid of here? Slipping on marble floors? Breaking their solid gold antiques? Using the wrong fork in such an egregious fashion that you get yelled at?”

“Honestly, I’m mostly afraid of blaspheming or something. His parents are like, hyper-Catholic.”

A smile crossed your face, but it faded far too fast for Eddie’s taste, “God, his parents are gonna hate me.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, or an adorable baby cow. You weren’t entirely sure how he managed to pull off that expression. Everything about his appearance seemed to scream tough, scary metalhead- except for his eyes. His eyes betrayed the fact that under layers of leather, chains, and eyeliner, Eddie Munson was deeply kind.

“And now you’ve lost me,” he leaned back, tipping himself over the counter to a dangerous level, “How could anyone hate you, angel?”

“Eddie, I work a minimum wage job in a nearly-defunct movie store that sells DVDs. I go to a community college for a degree that won’t take me anywhere. I’m pathetic, and I have no energy ninety percent of the time, and even though I’m going to try and look nice this weekend, I know I’ll look like a mess. I’m nothing. I’m nothing, and I’m going nowhere, and in a hundred years I won’t be anything more than a footnote on a footnote on their son’s wikipedia page. They’re gonna see that I’m not good enough for him. I’m never gonna be enough for him and they’re gonna hate me for it.”

“Sweetheart-” his eyes were wide. He looked completely shocked, taken aback that you saw yourself as nothing.

“You know, whenever we get an angry customer, everyone here hides behind you?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of where this was going. Eddie continued, “It’s because you’re strong as hell and you’re terrifying- and you can make anyone see reason. You’re smart as fuck and you take no shit from anyone. You’re the furthest thing in the world from pathetic..”

“You’re just saying that-”

“I’m not!” he leaned forward, “I promise! And I mean, besides all that, you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met- and you’re definitely the hottest.”

“Are you sure about that?” you asked, finally cracking a smile, “You know Steve.”

“‘The Hair?’ Well, I mean, I have eyes, I know he’s gorgeous, but you? You’re a total knockout,” he threw a few punches into the air. You couldn’t hold back your laugh.

He smiled at you, just admiring the way you wheezed at his eccentricities.

“You aren’t nothing,” he said as your laughter subsided.

“I know,” you didn’t really believe your own words. You were pretty sure he picked up on that.

“I’m serious! You could have the entire world if you wanted it. Forget a hundred years, I give it six months before the Earth is yours.”

“Are you sure about that?” “Six months! Then the world is yours and the rest of us are just living in it.”

You scoffed, hopping up on the counter beside him, “Make it four.”

“Or less!”

A soft, content silence passed over the two of you. You watched as Eddie’s long, slender fingers tapped a beat into his thigh. You reached out, taking his hand into your own, running your thumb over the blue veins that lay beneath his skin. God, you didn’t know a person could have such beautiful hands.

“Still,” with his hand still in yours, you leaned into his shoulder, using it as an oddly soft pillow while you spoke, “Even if I am taking over the world, I haven’t done it yet- so this weekend is going to fucking suck.”

“Hey, if there’s anyone who can deal with hellish in-laws, it would be you. Pretend they’re just customers. If anyone can deal with a couple of rich in-laws for a weekend, it’s you.”

“Is it?” you sighed, “Or are they gonna kill me because I used the wrong salad fork?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, a smirk crossing his lips. He gave your hand a squeeze and let go before he jumped off the cash desk, “They’re not gonna kill you, sweetheart. You think Roman would let them?”

“Who knows? Think of Grace. Think of Chris Washington. This could totally be a Get Out, or a Ready or Not!”

You were playing around now, dabbling in worst case scenarios to ease some pressure off of your worried mind. Eddie played along with you, as he so often did.

“You’re right. You’re totally gonna get murdered this weekend. I’ll have to find someone to pick up your Monday shift.”

“I know,” you feigned a wince, “Sorry in advance. I’ll be too busy getting sacrificed to the devil.”

Eddie paused for a split second. His smile wavered so briefly that you didn’t quite catch it as you continued on your dramatic rant.

“And yes, I should have informed the company over text, at least! But!” you shrugged, “I was too busy getting murdered by my in-laws.”

“That’s no excuse!” Eddie gasped, taking on some weird, posh sounding accent- presumably the sound of the bourgeoisie, “You should know that the interests of Family Video come before personal crap like getting murdered.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Boss Man. I’d ask you not to fire me, but, y’know. I’m dead.”

Eddie’s smile returned in full force as he twisted away from you, focusing on the new task of placing films back on their shelves. As you gazed at his back, gears began to turn in your brain. Maybe keeping someone in the know about your whereabouts wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

“Hey, Eddie? Would it- would it be okay if I did inform you? Over text? If something happens, I mean.”

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was much softer, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, sweetheart.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that- I’m talking about a scenario where everything goes terribly wrong and I end up offending the hell out of his parents. If they hate me, can I call you?”

Eddie nodded, his sweet eyes widening as his strong hands wrapped around the plastic case of another film.

“Of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

You bit your lip as you watched him turn. The way Eddie spoke to you filled something inside of you. It met a deep dark need that ached somewhere in your chest. You wondered if, in a different universe- one where you had met Eddie before you met Roman- you would still have that need.

You kept your eyes on Eddie for a few minutes before you finally turned away.

-

Hours later, the clicking sound of your heels echoed across the front lawn of a rather imposing mansion. The smell of freshly cut grass overtook your senses, nearly covering the underlying stench of metal. Already, the grass was covered in fallen Autumn leaves.

A mildly uncomfortable dress clung to your body, exposing your shoulders to the chill of the early evening air. An expensive bottle of red wine sat heavy in your hands. Behind you, you could hear the muttering of butlers (butlers!) as your luggage was removed from the car you’d arrived in.

Roman stood at your side, his piercing blue eyes dead focused on the door a few paces ahead of you. His suit was perfectly tailored to every sharp edge of his toned form. The harsh scent of his expensive cologne stung your nose. He was the very picture of confidence- next to him, you felt like a lost, sad stray puppy.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, not bothering to turn to face him. You knew he wouldn’t look you in the eye for a question this trivial, “You really think I’m ready to meet-”

“You are,” there was no hesitation in your paramour’s voice. There was no compassion, either.

“And you think they’re ready to meet me?”

When you were met with silence, you steeled yourself. You took a deep breath, clenching your fists as your lungs filled with the scent of cut grass and cologne.

“Now, the second that door opens, you are quiet and polite, got that? Don’t speak out of turn, laugh softly, and for once in your life, do as I ask.”

You didn’t have time to respond.

The door swung open as you and Roman approached, revealing the smiling faces of a middle aged couple. You had been informed about them on the car ride up- and you didn’t fail to notice the way they looked you up and down, judging you in a practiced silent way.

The woman, Roman’s mother, had short dark hair, styled neatly so her bangs framed her unwrinkled face. From what you’d been told, she was a fan of diamonds, anti-aging creams, and vintage reds- hence the bottle in your hands. The man next to her, Roman’s father, Benedict, shared your boyfriend’s piercing blue eyes. The watch on his wrist was expensive, though you already knew it would be. When it came to the finer things in life, Benedict (never Ben) was something of a collector.

The couple was perfectly warm as they welcomed you into their home. Cecilia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and Benedict clapped his son on the back, expressing a sort of fatherly pride. Still, as you stepped through the heavy oak doors, you were overwhelmed with a sense of wrongness. It took all your strength to smile through it. You had to ignore every instinct you had- all of which were currently screaming for you to run.

A chill ran up your spine as the doors swung shut behind you, trapping you inside with a heavy thud. Someone took the wine from your hands. You had no choice now. You were in.

You tried to shake off your unease as you moved through the hallways. Each space you entered dripped with the trappings of wealth. Everything was crafted with fine materials by the very best craftsmen. The decorations were decadent and modern and entirely overwhelming. You could just tell that everything in this house was more expensive than your car.

You did your best to listen as Cecilia and Benedict took turns delivering the history of the marble floors and fancy trims, but you couldn’t help but focus on their taste in wall decor. Oil portraits hung on the walls; painted visages of men and women stared down from golden frames. Their bodies were bathed in painted finery, and their eyes seemed to watch you as you passed through their hallway.

“Ah, I see you have an eye for art!” Benedict exclaimed, stepping away from your side for a moment to gesture to the portrait of one woman in specific. She had the saddest honey-brown eyes you had ever seen. You wanted to reach out and hold her hand- which was odd, considering the fact that she was a painting.

Benedict continued, ignoring you as you became lost in your own mind, “These paintings are all originals, all commissioned by the family.”

Your eyes followed the line of portraits as far as you could see. In each gilded frame, a different face peered out at you with sad, desperate eyes.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Cecilia took your elbow in her hand, pulling you closer to the painting of the brown-eyed girl, “She was Benedict's darling first wife. She passed so tragically young.”

Her words told a tragic tale, but her tone was nothing short of upbeat. You stood straighter, becoming more aware of Cecilia’s proximity to you and the smile on her face as she continued to speak of Benedict’s late partner.You couldn’t help but notice that the woman in the frame was missing a ring.

“She died in childbirth, as did her baby- her only child. When she left us, we had this portrait made.”

“Tragically, that’s the case with most of these old things,” Roman said, placing a hand on the small of your back, “When a LeBuer passes, we commemorate their life with art. It’s a nice way to keep them close- to keep them from leaving. Someday soon, you’ll join them.”

You nodded, entirely unsure of how to respond to that statement. All of your jokes with Eddie had been just that- jokes. Now, however, with the eyes of the portraits boring into you, you were actually starting to get freaked out.

“Come now,” Benedict’s voice boomed through the hallway as he guided the group away from the portrait and down the corridor, “It would be rude to leave the rest of the family waiting.”

“Oh, yes. They’ve all been so excited to meet you! Roman has told us such wonderful things.”

You peered at Roman from the corner of your eye, wondering what, exactly, he had told his family. He kept his gaze on the portrait, glaring at the woman within as if she had done him a personal injustice. He remained there, stock still with that look on his face until his parents pulled you away, leaving Roman behind.

A short ways away, the hall opened up into a second foyer that was somehow even grander than the first. A chaise lounge sat in the middle of the room. On a small table next to it, dried flowers sat perfectly arranged in a vase that definitely cost more than you could hope to make in a lifetime. An elegant staircase twisted up one wall. Beneath it stood an oak door, covered from top to bottom with fine gold detailing. When you looked closer, you could see that the gold made up tiny illustrations of what you had to assume were biblical stories.

The other walls were decorated with more portraits. More finely dressed men and women, more piercing eyes staring down from gilded frames. You suppressed a shiver of discomfort.

Roman’s parents stopped you just as you reached the door beneath the stairs. Benedict stood behind you, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders as Cecilia gathered your hands in her own.

“Now, some members of the family were unable to make it- tonight you’ll be meeting our daughter Medea-”

“And her no good husband,” Benedict continued, the tone of his voice and Cecilia’s eye roll betraying the truth behind his joke.

“You’ll also meet our eldest son, Adam, and Roman’s aunt and uncle, their son, and-”

“Cathrine,” Roman announced his return to the group, “You’ll get to meet Cathrine.”

Honestly, you had no clue who the fuck that was. Cathrine could’ve been the family pet for all you knew- but something about the way Roman’s lips curved around her name, the way his voice took on a tender tone that he never even used with you- that said otherwise.

“Are you ready, dear?” Cecilia took your hands in hers again as she asked. Her words were kind, but you couldn’t help but think her smile looked fake. You drew in a harsh breath. Your heart began to race in your chest. You drew your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it as your nerves twisted in an anxious dance. Cecilia’s hand drifted up towards her neck, where she laid a few dainty fingers over a necklace- a gold chain and a crucifix. For a split second, and only a split second, you could see disgust cross her face.

“I-” you stuttered, “I think I need a moment.”

Cecilia said nothing. She no longer looked like she wanted to throw up at the very sight of you, but there was still a cold look in her eyes. Benedict was unaffected by his wife’s sudden frost.

“Just as well! We’ll let the family know you’ve arrived.”

He took his wife by the elbow and gestured for his son to follow, guiding them both through the massive doors into what looked like a void of darkness. Before you could question it, the patriarch’s voice called out to you.

“Come in soon, dear. They’re waiting for you.”

You smiled, attempting to cover the tremor that ran through you at the echoing sound of Benedict’s voice. The second the doors shut behind the happy family, you let your facade drop. You collapsed onto the chaise lounge. At a different time, you might’ve felt glamorous doing that, in the moment, you just felt anxious.

Moving quickly, you pulled your phone from your dress pocket. Your lockscreen was a photo of you and Roman at a beach. His arm was wrapped around you, his eyes and smile confident and self assured. Beside him, you simply looked inadequate- tired and anxious. Unlocking the phone, you were met with your homescreen- a photo of you and Eddie where the flash made his eyes go red- and a text from the man himself.

EDDIE: hope you got to the haunted mansion safe and sound (ooooooo ooooooo *spooky sounds*)

Your thumbs flew as you typed a response.

Y/N: i’m here, and i haven’t been murdered yet. this place is fucking *weird* though

EDDIE: what brand of weird are we talkin?? good weird? bad weird? me weird? that time gareth got drunk and tried to organize the gravel behind my place weird?

You paused, smiling before you resumed typing.

Y/N: ok, tbh, i don’t think anything is gonna top gareth weird

Y/N: but things are like… weird weird.

Y/N: i don’t mean to be a bitch. his family is perfectly nice, it’s just… they have paintings?? oil paintings of all these dead people. apparently they’re all relatives, but there are so many of them

EDDIE: huh

EDDIE: maybe it isn’t ready or not, maybe you’re in crimson peak, and one of his relatives is murdering all of their wives

EDDIE: hey if you see tom hiddleston wandering around looking sad, lmk, i wanna get in on that

Y/N: ha ha, very funny

Y/N: but seriously, i hate these damn paintings- it feels like the eyes are following me

Y/N: I’m On Edge, eds. seriously, Roman told me I was gonna join the paintings on the wall one day, and maybe it was a marriage proposal, but it felt more like a threat

There was a pause, a moment where all you had were three little dots telling you he was typing. For a split second, the storm of anxiety brewing in your chest threatened to overtake you. Your breath came in harsh pants as your hands began to shake. Eddie would think you were overreacting. It was just a comment from your boyfriend- you thought for sure Eddie would call you crazy. Roman would have called you crazy.

EDDIE: do you want me to come get you? I can be there in half an hour if i drive fast enough

Just like that, the storm faded. The thundering beat of your heart returned to normal. You couldn’t help the grin that crossed your face as you stared at your phone, nor could you withhold the relieved sigh that left your lungs.

Y/N: don’t break any traffic laws for me just yet… but leave your phone on, just in case

EDDIE: as you wish. stay safe, sweetheart

You stared at your phone until the screen went black, trying to fight the warmth that crept up your face. After years of knowing Eddie, those damn pet names never lost their effect on you. You tried to shake it off, steeling yourself to prepare for your next challenge.

In-laws.

With a calming deep breath- and then a second and third calming deep breath when the first one didn’t do its job- you pushed open the doors and made your way into the next impossibly fancy room.

Immediately, you were overcome with the sense that the very act of entering this room was a massive mistake. It was almost as if the space itself knew you did not belong inside of it.

A wide, oval shaped table took center stage in the middle of the room. Like everything else in the house, it was finely crafted- and probably custom made. The surface was carved with strange, intricate shapes. Chairs had been scattered around it haphazardly, as if a family sat down only to get right back up again. The walls were covered in paintings alongside various taxidermied trophies from various hunts. Unlike the paintings, the glass eyes of the deer, foxes, rabbits and bears didn’t seem to follow you. Two cabinets sat at the far end of the room, both well stocked with guns and other weapons that you could just see through beautiful glass panes.

The entire LeBuer family fell silent and turned to face you, as if you had rudely interrupted each and every one of their conversations.

You stood there for a moment, facing Roman’s family with wide eyes. His parents were standing with a pregnant woman, her hands clutching the arm of the man that stood beside her. That would probably be Medea and her husband if Benedict ’s clenched fists were anything to go by. Across the room from them, another couple stood talking to two young men, presumably Roman’s aunt and uncle, his brother and his cousin. At the very back of the room, in front of a massive portrait of a dark-eyed man with a devilish smirk, stood Roman. With him was a woman you did not recognize. Cathrine.

Each and every one of them wore an expression like you had just kicked their dog. Lovely.

The room seemed to drop a few degrees in the following moments. Silence filled the air as you stared at the family, and they stared back. You had half a mind to turn right back around and call Eddie, and you were about to follow through with it when Benedict moved towards you.

“Ladies and gentlemen! And other creatures of the night,” he pointed at Roman’s uncle with a grin, “It is my honour and privilege to introduce you to the newest member of the family.”

You felt like that was a bit extreme, but really, you were just glad someone was talking.

“Miss (L/N),” Benedict ’s hand was on your back, guiding you through the room, “I’d like to introduce you to my brother, his lovely wife, their son, Alexander, and our boy Adam.”

You tried to hide the tremor in your fingers as you made your introductions and shook their hands. Roman’s aunt and uncle gave you polite but cold smiles. Alexander looked completely uninterested in you. Adam almost looked too interested. He wouldn’t let go of your hand until you pulled away with moderate force. The smell of his cologne was overwhelming.

The storm of anxiety Eddie had eased moments before had returned in full. You could feel it clawing at your ribs- it was a force of nature that became less like a weather event and more like a feral creature the longer you stood in that room. Every moment you spent speaking to Roman’s family was a moment your instincts screamed at you for not running away.

But you were being silly. These were just nerves. You wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to get along with Roman’s family. You wanted them to approve of you- to make him happy. He wasn’t even looking at you. Even as you crossed the room, as you were introduced to his sister and his brother-in-law, his eyes stayed on that other woman. Cathrine.

“We’re so excited that Roman has finally found someone,” Medea let go of her husband’s arm, placing her hands over her bump, “Maybe our little guy will have a friend to run around with someday soon.”

You didn’t even try to make your laugh sound genuine. You just smiled, and nodded, and pretended you were totally down with that idea.

You were not totally down with that idea.

“Roman!” Benedict called out, “Come here, son. Introduce your sweet girl to dear (Y/N).”

It took you a moment to process Benedict ’s words- his phrasing was odd, and perhaps it would be a touch hurtful if you were a jealous woman.

Across the room, Roman took Cathrine’s hand, cradling it gently in his. He looked at her like she was precious to him, as if she was something he’d searched all of time and space for and finally found. He looked at her as if she was a divine and expensive creature.

If you were a jealous woman, this would have been more than a touch hurtful- it would have been a punch hurtful, perhaps. Roman never looked at you that way.

“(Y/N), dear, this is Cathrine,” those weren’t Roman’s words. He didn’t even bother to introduce you to her. His mother did, “She was a childhood friend of Roman’s.”

“They’ve always been close,” Benedict said, putting a hand on your shoulder. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but it felt like a dead weight on your back, pushing you forward into the event horizon of a black hole.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long,” Cathrine smiled at you, her voice was sweet as honey- with a special sort of poison lurking just beneath, “Roman’s told me so many good things.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you tapped your fingers against your wrist in a rapid, anxious rhythm, “I’d be a little sad if he only told you bad things.”

Cathrine laughed, but the sound was fake; a cheap plastic vase in the place of a porcelain one. You knew your joke was bad, but still, the sound put you on edge. When her tiny nose wrinkled with laughter, you were almost sure she was scowling at you. As her chest rose and fell, you caught sight of her choice of jewelry- a gold chain with a dainty crucifix.

“Oh,” she hummed, “You’re so funny! That’s such a good trait. You’re so pretty, too. I’m so glad Roman picked you.”

She looked at you the way a hawk would look at its prey moments before they tore it into little tiny pieces. You thanked her quickly and cast your gaze to the floor, unable to stare down her bloodthirsty expression.

You didn’t have to avoid her gaze for long. The massive doors creaked open. The sound echoed through the room. Neatly dressed men in white shirts and black dress pants filed through, each of them carrying a tray with a single flute of champagne on it. It seemed incredibly inefficient, but you were just happy that something had distracted Cathrine from her murderous thoughts.

Benedict took his place at the head of the table, standing behind the chair that you assumed was his. The rest of the family followed suit. There was a place saved for you beside Roman. Feeling petty, you took a spot away from him- an empty seat closer to the head of the table. No one seemed to mind, and the place that would have been yours was filled by Alexander.

“My beloved family,” Benedict raised his glass, “A toast! To good company, good fortune, and a bright future.”

You watched Roman’s family toast and drink. You did the same. You had never tasted such salty champagne.

Benedict continued, “To my brother-” he turned to Roman’s uncle, but you could not make out the man’s face. You shook your head, trying to clear your head. Benedict’s voice became briefly inaudible as your vision blurred.

No one paid you any mind. Roman’s father continued, his glass still held aloft, “To my darling wife-”

You gripped onto your glass, breath coming fast as Benedict’s voice faded in and out. Black dots swam in front of you. Something was very wrong.

“My dear children. You have ensured that our family will prosper for yet another generation. First, my sweet Medea, and now Roman. You’ve brought home the perfect girl- and the perfect sacrifice.”

You couldn’t have heard that right. The world seemed to sway, spinning around as you tried to stay steady on your feet. Your stomach flipped and your throat burned as you fought the urge to vomit all over the table.

“You’ve done an excellent job, Roman,” Cecilia’s voice was immeasurably fond. Her eyes were on you.

“Did you really have to pick such a cute sacrifice, though?” Medea whined, “Now your kid is going to be cuter than mine.”

“Does the demon have a preference?”

You stumbled backwards, champagne glass slipping from your hand as you tripped away from the family. The sound of shattering glass was entirely lost on you.

“What-” your voice was weak. You could barely hear yourself over the static in your ears, “What the fuck-?”

“Relax now, dear,” Benedict put a hand on your shoulder, “You will come to understand in time.”

You jerked away from him, nearly collapsing to the floor in your haste to get away. You could see Roman approaching you, hands outstretched as if you were some feral creature he wanted to soothe.

“Darling,” he whispered. You couldn’t hear him, you could only see his lips moving.

“The drugs are in her system, Roman. You’ll have to speak up.”

Roman sighed, throwing his hands in the air as if annoyed that he’d have to expend anymore energy on calming you. You were kind of used to that gesture, actually.

“(Y/N), darling- my family has a tradition. We can’t further the family line until-”

“Until we spill the blood of an innocent and summon the ancient gods,” Cathrine spoke, stepping towards Roman and wrapping her arms around his waist. She grinned as confusion spilled across your features, and she spoke to you as if you were a small child, “Don’t you understand? You’re here because I wanted to have a child with my husband.”

Ice spilled through your veins as realization sunk in. The agony of betrayal bit at your heels like the feral dog this family imagined you to be. Anguish spread through you, burning in your throat and behind your eyes. You were hurt, you were sick, and over everything else, you were annoyed.

Because you had been right, and Eddie would never hear about it from you.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Roman took a step closer, “I wasn’t the only one in our relationship who loved someone else. I had Cathrine. You had that boy from your work. You should have stayed with him.”

Roman’s words stung like tiny razors dancing across your skin. Of course this was mostly because he was excusing his own deceit, but it was also because he was kind of right. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want your killer to be right about anything- but here, in what could be your last moments, you were thinking of Eddie.

You made an attempt at retreat, but your back hit something. A cabinet.

Roman’s eyes were on you. His family’s eyes were on you. His wife’s eyes were on you. Your intuition had been right all along- you were the prey, and they were the hunters. You were never welcome here. You were never going to be welcome here. Your mind raced, eyes flitting around as you tried to find a way out. They were going to kill you. Roman’s family was going to kill you in a stupid, cliche way.

But the LeBuer family, in their infinite wisdom, had made a mistake.

They backed their prey into a cabinet filled with guns.

You let out a shuddering breath, folding in on yourself as you tried to project the image of a woman defeated. You let out a sob, a genuine sound, even though it was a distraction.

“You’re right,” your voice betrayed your terror, “For both our sakes. I should have stayed with Eddie.”

Roman didn’t have time to ask what you meant. None of them did, and you couldn’t imagine them being super curious about what you had to say, anyway. You were livestock to them. Something to stab so that they could further their family lineage, or whatever the fuck they had said. You couldn’t remember it clearly, and as you stood, the thought completely vanished from your mind.

Adrenaline flooded through your system as you threw your elbow into the glass panes of the display cabinet. You didn’t feel the glass pierce your skin, or your blood dripping over the wood. You just felt the solid reassuring presence of a weapon in your hands.

You weren’t sure if it was loaded. Even if it was, you were not confident in your ability to shoot straight given your drugged state. Therefore, when the first of Roman’s family members approached you, you decided to use the shotgun in your hands as a club.

Alex went down like a fucking chump.

You hit him in the face and he collapsed to the floor with a sharp screech. Adam was next. You ducked under his open arms and nailed him on the inside of his thigh with the butt of the gun. Just as he fell to the ground, Roman’s uncle moved in. You jumped up, hitting his chin from below and sending him stumbling into his wife.

The other members of the family began to back away. You turned the gun in your arms, aiming it at them as if you knew what you were doing. They raised their hands in surrender. You kept the weapon trained on them as you began to stumble through the room, your back to the wall as you headed for the door.

“Now, (Y/N), sweetheart,” Cecilia began, “You have to understand- this is for the greater good! Your sacrifice would give Roman and Cathrine the ultimate gift- a child! Don’t you want that for them? Don’t they deserve it? The joys of mother and fatherhood?”

“Isn’t this your place as a woman?” Adam decided to join in, “To give life? Don’t you want to fulfill your duty as a woman?”

“Don’t you love our son, (Y/N)?” Benedict asked, “Please, help him with this. No marriage is truly blessed without children.”

You almost lowered the weapon, shocked at their audacity, “It was never gonna work out. Turns out he’s married.”

You were almost there, almost out. Just another few steps, and then you could run. You didn’t know how far you would get, how long the adrenaline would last, but it had to get you somewhere, right?

You would call Eddie. You had to call Eddie.

Just as you formed a concrete plan in your mind, someone’s arms wrapped around your throat. They pulled you back, nearly throwing you to the floor before you had a chance to fight back. You scratched at their hands with your free one, managing to draw blood. The angle was awkward, but you did your best, using the gun to try and beat them away from you. They tried their best to pry the thing from your hands. You fought back. Their arm was tight against your windpipe. With their other hand, they reached down. Their finger wrapped around the trigger.

The sound of a shot made your ears ring. The arms around your throat dropped in a millisecond. You stumbled away, hand wrapping around the gun as you dared to glance behind you.

Roman’s uncle was on the ground. The space where his face had been was nothing more than a mass of blood, bits of skull, and scattered brains.

You aimed the gun at your hunters. You could faintly hear Roman’s aunt screaming, but you tuned her out. It was easy enough- your ears were still ringing.

“Are you still going to kill me?”

There was a moment of silence. Blood pooled on the marble floor near your feet. The light from the chandelier caught on the broken champagne glass you’d left on the floor. You were seeing double again.

Roman nodded. So did the second, drug fueled vision of him that only you could see.

“Fine,” you hissed, shutting your eyes against the harsh reality you were facing. When you opened them again, Roman was much closer, staring you down with a look of pure disappointment. The fucking audacity of these people. You turned the gun in your hands again, hitting him in the dead center of his face.

“Good luck with that.”

With that, you were gone, tearing out the doors and down the hallways. The mansion that Roman’s family called home was a fucking maze. Even without the drugs coursing through your system, you would’ve been lost in seconds. The only thing you could do was find a place to hide.

You let out a small laugh at the thought. Your night had, despite all improbabilities, actually turned into Ready or Not- a cursed game of hide and seek that would end with somebody dying. You would never let Eddie forget this.

That is, if you saw him again. To do that, you needed to survive long enough to call him, and get help. You could do that- you had to believe that you could do that.

You could hear voices and footsteps far down the hallway. Someone was coming. With your goal in mind, you ran. It was a struggle to avoid falling or tripping over the stupidly lavish hallway runner. There were no significant landmarks to tell you where you were going. There were no windows, no doors, and every damned wall was covered in those paintings. The portraits with sad eyes watched as you tried to make your escape. You weren’t afraid of them anymore.

After coming upon two dead ends, you finally found some way to make progress. A twisting stairway led up to another floor. You didn’t have time to weigh your options. The voices of your pursuers were only growing louder. With the shotgun in hand, you threw yourself up the stairs and bolted onto the second floor.

Immediately, you were blessed by the last rays of light that the sun had to offer as it sunk below the horizon. You didn’t have time to enjoy it. You just ran down the hallway, past windows and portraits until you finally, finally found a series of doors.

The first few you tried were locked. Sweat pooled in the palms of your hands as you heard someone running up the stairs. The ground seemed to shift beneath your feet when one of the doors finally swung open beneath your palm. Counting yourself lucky, you tucked yourself inside and gently shut the door behind you. Moments later, you heard footsteps thudding passed your hiding place.

You took in your surroundings. You were in a bedroom. Though it was beautiful, the space smelled of dust and neglect. The fine silk sheets on the bed clearly hadn’t been used in some time. A bronze crucifix hung over the bed, though it had been tilted to the side ever so slightly. The rug was expensive, but its red hue had been darkened from dust. The other furnishings had suffered a similar fate.

You took a step forward, trying to explore the room further and get away from the door. Your leg gave out beneath you. Nausea overtook your body as you struggled to stand. The world wouldn’t stop spinning. Again, your vision doubled, though this time it faded to black at the edges.

You were about to pass out.

In a desperate attempt at self preservation, you checked the door behind you. There was no way to lock it- no keyhole, no mechanism, nothing. You glanced at your surroundings again- there was a bed, an oak chest that was far too small for you to fit inside of it, a nightstand, and a door. You had no choice but to crawl to it, dragging yourself across the floor, burning your skin on the rug.

You had fully assumed that this door would lead you to a closet, but to your luck, you found a small ensuite. It was just as neglected as the bedroom- particles of dust floated through the air, coating the counter and catching in the fluffy towels that hung on the wall- but the door had the ability to lock. That was all that really mattered to you.

You slid the shotgun in first, tucking it beside the toilet before you slid yourself in, knees and thighs clinging to the cold tile. The moment you were in, you pulled the door shut behind you and locked it. A moment passed. The silence was broken only by your deep, haggard breathing. Your hands clutched at nothing as you tried to calm the erratic beat of your heart.

Though you desperately needed a second to catch your breath, time was not on your side. Your body shook almost violently on the cold bathroom floor. Your vision continued to darken, and you knew that whatever drugs were in your system would slowly drag you under if you let them. You didn’t know if you would wake up from that.

Pulling yourself over to the toilet, you made yourself vomit to the best of your ability. You did everything you could do. Still, the world swam in front of you. As you faded from consciousness, you managed to pull your phone out from your pocket. Roman’s smiling face mocked you from the screen as you unlocked the damn thing. In the final moments before the world went dark, you managed to send out one text. You hoped that Eddie left his phone on.

Y/N: sos. sos. please.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your phone clattered to the floor. Night fell as you lay there, alone and asleep on the bathroom floor. All the while, Roman’s family searched for you, becoming more agitated as they did.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the tile floor pulled you from your sleep. The bathroom was dark and cold, and you shivered as you sat up. Your skull ached. Your throat stung. Your limbs hung heavy at your sides. In other words, you felt like total fucking garbage, and in that sweet moment before you remembered what hell you were living in, you swore you were going to shatter your phone for robbing you from your peaceful sleep.

And then you remembered that you were in deep, deep shit.

You immediately began to search for your phone, pawing mindlessly through the darkness with only the occasional vibration to guide you. When your fingers wrapped around the sweet little device, you almost cried tears of joy. You unlocked it quickly, wincing at the agonizingly bright light that spilled from your screen.

Your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts, not only from Eddie, but from Steve, Robin, and Nancy. Your dear friend had raised the alarms- and you were so thankful that he did.

EDDIE: what’s up?? are you ok???

EDDIE: what’s going on???

EDDIE: (Y/N)???

EDDIE: do you need me to come get you??

EDDIE: is this a joke?? if this is a joke, it fucking sucks :(

EDDIE: you’re freaking me out, man

He called you.�� Of course, you hadn’t been awake to answer.

EDDIE: come onnnnn, (Y/N), pick up the phone

EDDIE: ok, im making steve call you

EDDIE: if this is a joke, he’s gonna be so mad

EDDIE: he’s gonna go full dad on you, just wait

EDDIE: and if it isn’t

EDDIE: please tell me this is a joke

There was a missed call from Steve, then a missed call from Robin. The latter had spammed your phone with texts and direct messages, sending you your name a thousand times on three different apps. Steve had sent a few frantic texts of his own. Both Steve and Robin were clearly worried by the end of it, but neither of them could top Eddie. From his texts alone, you could tell he was terrified, and that was without all the missed calls (of which there were at least 20 and at most 200. You didn’t bother to read the number correctly.)

A twinge of guilt ran through you as you kept reading.

EDDIE: ok, you aren’t answering steve or robin

EDDIE: i don’t like this

EDDIE: please tell me what’s wrong

EDDIE: please

EDDIE: if you don’t respond, i’m calling hopper

EDDIE: i swear to christ

EDDIE: (Y/N) my heart can’t take this, please pick up your phone

EDDIE: ok, that’s it, im calling hopper

That was the most recent message. You responded.

Y/N: do it and hurry

EDDIE: HOLY FUCK YOU’RE ALIVE

EDDIE: thank god

Y/N: i need you to come get me, now

Y/N: please

EDDIE: i'm on my way

EDDIE: are you okay? can you tell me what’s going on?

There was no way you could tell him- not through text, anyway. There was no way he would believe you based on words alone. You tapped his name in your contacts list and hit the little phone icon. He picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

His voice was distorted by static, but you could still hear every ounce of his concern. Your body warmed as tears pooled in your eyes.

“I- I don’t even know, Eds,” you cringed as your voice cracked, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just take deep breaths for me, angel. You don’t have to say anything, Just stay where you are, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. Okay, just be careful. They-” you paused, taking a shuddering breath as you remembered the feeling of drugs coursing through your veins, of an arm around your throat and hands grasping at your body. You knew it had happened. The shotgun lying beside you and the blood spattered across your body told you that. Still, you barely believed that any of it was real.

“What did they do? If they hurt you, I swear to god-”

“I think they drugged me,” you sounded so painfully small, broken in the middle of this strange bathroom, “They drugged me, and Roman’s uncle tried to choke me, and I- they said something about sacrifice?”

“What the fuck?” Eddie sounded just as terrified as you felt, “I’m calling Hop, he’ll meet us there.”

“Call an ambulance too, please. I don’t know what they gave me, and I feel sick.”

“I will. Just hang on, sweet girl, just hang on for me.”

“Okay,” you whispered as tears finally spilled down your cheeks.

The line fell silent for a moment as your mind raced over the events of the day. With another shaky gasp, you spoke again.

“Roman is married.”

“Shit- what?”

“He’s married. He has a wife. They want to kill me.”

“Jesus H. Christ-”

He’s about to say more when you cut him off, “And Roman’s uncle shot himself in the face. He- he was trying to kill me.”

“Holy fuck- and he shot himself in front of you? God, angel, I’m- I’m so sorry.”

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, “Don’t worry. It was kind of metal.”

It was such a weird joke, but you were coping in whatever way you could. Eddie laughed cautiously over the phone, clearly concerned but allowing you to cope. The line fell silent for a few moments. You could hear him scrambling around, grabbing his keys and trying not to trip over himself. Despite the situation, you were filled with overwhelming affection for the man on the other end of the line.

“I love you, you know,” you weren’t sure he heard you. You didn’t try to speak up, “If I don’t make it out of here, I want you to know that.”

“You’re gonna make it out of there. I promise, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I love you, too, sweet girl.”

You let out another small, terrible laugh. Tears kept spilling down your cheeks. You couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Y’know what’s funny? I was right. I’m hiding from my boyfriend’s family members while they try to kill me- this is just like Ready or Not.”

“You’re right. You were right, and this is just like that fucking movie, and you’re gonna get to rub this in my face for the rest of our lives, just stay put, baby. I’ll be there soon, ok?”

Before you could answer, a floorboard creaked somewhere nearby. You pulled the phone away from your ear. Footsteps thudded down the hallway. A chill ran up your spine. You threw yourself away from the door as quietly as you could, seizing the shotgun with your free hand.

The bedroom door opened.

“Eddie,” you whispered, “Someone’s here. I have to go.”

“Okay,” he sounded frantic, “Okay, okay. You go, stay safe, I’ll be there soon, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you,” the words were barely there. You hoped to whatever force was out there that he heard you. The light of your phone dimmed down to nothing, and you were left alone in the dark and the quiet.

You slipped your phone into your pocket with the utmost caution, trying not to make even the smallest of sounds. Moving slowly, you wrapped your other hand around the shotgun, holding it in front of you like the world’s worst shield. Someone was breathing on the other side of the door. You could hear them moving around, getting closer and closer to your hiding space.

Suddenly, the bedroom fell silent.

The smell of cologne became overwhelming.

Adam knocked on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he drew out the sound of your name, his voice violating every syllable, “I know you’re in there, sweetheart.”

You remained silent, praying that he would decide that you weren’t actually in the bathroom and leave. Those prayers went unanswered. The doorknob twisted, but it didn’t give. You had locked it. Now Adam knew you were in there.

“Who were you talking to, Miss (L/N)? Was it someone special? No, it couldn’t be, you already have a boyfriend… well, had.”

Something was tapping against the door- something metal.

“But now you know the truth- or at least part of it. Roman is happily tied to the lovely Cathrine, and you’re nothing but a lamb for slaughter.”

Your knuckles were white around the shotgun. Adam went silent for a terrifying moment.

“You’re real a cute lamb, though. It’s a damn shame, if you ask me. A real waste of a body like yours.”

You tried not to gag.

“Y’know,” something dragged across the door, fabric, then metal again, “We could always figure something out. If you came with me, Roman and Cath would just have to find another sacrifice- and we could get a sacrifice of our own.”

You tried to take deep breaths.

“You look like the kinda girl that would like that- summoning a few demons, having a few kids. You’d make a cute little housewife. That’s what girls like you are made for. And I’d treat you better than my shit head brother ever did.”

You remained silent, biting your lip until it bled. The taste of iron spilled into your mouth, but even that wasn’t as vile as the man on the other side of the door.

“On second thought, I might not keep you, Miss (L/N). You’ve been too quiet. I like girls who can scream.”

You could hear the sound of a gun, cocking, loading, fucking whatever, you didn’t know how guns worked. You just knew that you had to do something, and you had to do it now.

Just before the sound of a shot could fracture the uneasy silence, you unlocked the door and threw it open, smacking Adam in the face. He collapsed to the ground in an undignified heap, the gun in his hand skittering across the floor. Without a second thought, you ran for it and kicked the thing into the hallway. When you turned back to Adam, he was still sprawled across the rug, clutching at his face. Blood gushed from his nose, dripping into his mouth and spilling across his lips and chin. You hoped the taste of it was fucking vile.

“YOU FILTHY BITCH!” Adam screamed, “You broke my fucking nose!”

“You deserved it,” you held the shotgun like a bat. You didn’t know how to shoot, but you did know how to hit something with a blunt object.

Before Adam could struggle to his feet, you hit him again, right in his bloodied nose. He shrieked in pain, scrambling back as you went to hit him again. He took his face out of range- an intelligent move, in theory. Unfortunately for Adam, this put his knees right in your line of fire.

You weren’t sure what damage you did, but by the time you’d finished, Adam was curled into himself, and you no longer felt human. You staggered away, covered in the blood of not one, but two of Roman’s family members. Your hand found purchase on the window sill. You leaned against it, desperately trying to catch your breath.

Outside, someone screamed.

You looked down, only to see some of the LeBuers gathered in the driveway. Medea was half-way inside of a car, looking up at you with horror and rage painted across her features. Immediately, half of the people with her raced back into the house. Cecilia remained outside, ushering her daughter and son-in-law into the vehicle before she, too, went back inside.

They all knew where you were now.

You were deeply, deeply fucked.

You could hear Adam laughing at you as you raced into the hallway, scooping the discarded gun into one hand and keeping the shotgun in the other. You sped down the corridor, stopping every now and then to throw open whatever doors you could find. You hoped that Roman’s family would think that you’d disappeared into another hiding place- anything to give yourself more time.

You ducked into one of the open doors just as Roman’s family spilled into the hall. They weren’t quiet in their searching- you could hear Benedict barking orders, and Cecilia’s distressed cry upon finding her beaten and bloodied son. As the hunting party panicked, you slipped into the darkness, moving backwards into an endless and ill-lit corridor that you hadn’t even noticed.

When the voices of your pursuers faded, you finally let yourself turn around. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever into infinite darkness. You could just barely see the frames of portraits that still lined the walls. The floor runner beneath you muffled the sounds of your footsteps, and you followed it diligently, staying silent until you found yet another fucking door.

You held both guns in one hand as you pulled it open. The next room contained another goddamned staircase, this one descending to the floor below. Before you could truly question the design choices of the rich and powerful, someone shoved you forward. You collapsed to the ground, losing your grip on both guns. Exhaustion filled your bones as you watched both weapons tumble down the stairs.

A well polished shoe slammed into your ribs before you could move. You didn’t have the chance to respond before your assailant kicked you again, bruising your ribs if they hadn’t already. You let out a sharp cry as you tried to sit up. Your attacker spat at you as you struggled, and when you looked up, you saw Alex’s disgusted face.

“Get up.”

You didn’t move. You just laid there with a shocked expression on your face. Alex leaned in, grabbing the front of your dress and dragging you to your knees.

“I said get up, you stupid whore.”

This time, you did as he asked, moving slowly as your shocked body tried to catch up with your equally shocked mind.

Alex didn’t appear to be armed. If anything, he looked like he hadn’t expected to find you. It was pure coincidence that he’d happened to wander down the same hallway you had. Alex was doing his best to look angry- furrowing his brow and glaring down at you- but the disgust on his face betrayed him. Locating you was nothing more than an inconvenience.

You hoped you could use that to your advantage.

“Alex, listen,” your voice was more sure than you expected it to be, “You can let me go. You can let me run off. You won’t have to get your hands dirty. You can just- you can pretend you never saw me.”

“Mm, yeah, I could,” Alex drew out every syllable he could, whining as a way of mocking you, “But this whole thing will end faster if I drag you back by that skanky little dress of yours. So-”

He pulled you to your feet, hands still tangled in the fabric of your dress. Adrenaline surged through you as he pulled you to the door. You fought him, scratching at his arm, drawing red angry lines into his pale flesh. He shrugged you off for the most part until you leaned in, seizing his neck with one hand and pulling it towards your mouth until you had the opportunity to bite.

Alex screamed as your teeth broke his skin. Blood filled your mouth, hot and metallic. You wanted to pull away, to stop biting and spit out the vile liquid, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not yet.

With your teeth still embedded in the flesh of Alex’s throat, you used your hold on his neck to drag him backwards, towards the stairs. He didn’t struggle or fight- he only screamed louder.

When he finally let you go, Alex lost his balance. You watched as he stumbled, staggering away from you as he tried to stop the bleeding. With his blood dripping from your mouth, you walked up to Alex and shoved him down the stairs.

You watched him fall, tumbling and bending in ways that human beings were not meant to tumble and bend. His screams stopped about halfway down the staircase. You shut your eyes. You just listened to the sounds of bones breaking in silence until that, too, came to a stop.

Then, the only sound was your breathing.

You felt around in the darkness for the banister of the stairs, and you clung to it as you collapsed to the floor. You sat there in the quiet, staring into nothing. For a moment, you were lost to the world as a numbing sort of panic filled your lungs.

“Holy shit.”

You knew that voice. With a gasp, you looked up. Of course, given your luck, the first thing you saw was Alex’s mangled body. His knee was twisted the wrong way, as was his left arm, and you winced at the sight of it, but your attention was quickly pulled away to the thing right next to Alex.

A pair of beat up white sneakers. Black jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, a leather jacket and violently wild hair.

“Eddie?”

The familiar boy at the bottom of the stairs didn’t say anything for a second. He just examined the body below him. At this angle, you couldn’t see his face. For a moment, you were terrified. You might’ve taken a man’s life- and that in itself was horrifying- but to add more fire to the hell you were in, you’d taken that man’s life in front of your best friend. What would he think of you now?

“Eddie?” you asked again, your voice trembling unpleasantly.

“Holy shit, sweetheart,” he finally looked up at you. His expression wasn’t disgusted or afraid- in fact, if you didn’t know better you would almost say he was impressed, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Tears filled your eyes as relief washed over you. You were safe now. Eddie was here, and he would take you away from this place, and these people, and you wouldn’t be brutally murdered because Eddie would never let that happen to you. And on top of that, he didn’t seem to mind that you had just maimed a man.

A smile crossed your face as you called down to him, “Will do.”

He returned the grin, but it immediately slipped from his face. His eyes were no longer focused on you. In the silence that followed, you could hear Roman’s family coming down the hall.

“Run, run!”

Eddie really didn’t have to tell you twice. You sped down the staircase just as Roman’s aunt stepped into the room, a silver hunting knife clutched in her hand. Adam limped in behind her, bruised and bloodied but still well enough to hunt you down. Clearly, you hadn’t kicked his ass enough.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you leapt over Alex’s body and into Eddie’s arms. He caught you and pushed you behind him, getting you as far from the new threat as he could. As you moved towards the exit, your foot hit something metal. You knelt quickly, seizing the guns at your feet and handing one of them to Eddie.

The moment you did, Roman’s aunt noticed her child’s crumpled form on the floor. For the second time that night, you heard a mother scream at what you’d done to her son. You couldn’t find it in you to feel any sort of guilt.

“YOU WRETCHED JUDAS!” she screamed as she stormed down the stairs, “You’ll pay! You’ll fucking pay!!”

She ran at you, knife raised, but before she got the chance to enact her vengeance, a deafening shot rang out. The shotgun was still in your hands, unused and useless. Blood soaked the woman’s shirt as she collapsed to the floor. You and Eddie watched in silence, the gun still smoking in his hands as she pulled down the steps into a bloody heap at the bottom.

“No- no!” Adam’s face was painted with his rage. His eyebrows were furrowed, cheeks red, and the look in his eyes could only be described as murderous, “You fucking wretch! I’ll make sure the last thing you hear is her screaming as I tear her apart! Do you understand that you stupid bitch? I’ll break you open and I’ll make him watch!”

You resisted the urge to vomit as you and Eddie ran out of the room, his hand slipping into yours as you fled. The beating you’d given Adam bought you more time, but you didn’t let yourself indulge in the illusion of safety. Even as Adam’s threats faded into silence, the need for escape haunted you. Your fear followed you like the eyes of the paintings on the walls.

“Do you remember the way you came in?” you asked, panting and out of breath from your run.

“I did, but I think we lost it two hallways ago- who the fuck lives like this, man?”

“Rich people.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. With his hand still in yours, he pulled you to an abrupt stop. Before you could ask what was wrong, you were in his arms again.

“Please never date a crazy rich dude with a homicidal family again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

You laughed into his chest, wrapping yourself around him and grabbing fistfulls of his shirt in your hands.

“I don’t think mine can either. I’m barely functioning as it is, I can’t even begin to think of doing this again,” you moved your hands up to gently cup his jaw, making his eyes meet yours, “Let’s make a deal- we are never doing this again. Ever. For any reason.”

“Agreed,” his smile was damn near blinding, betraying his mock-exasperated tone, “Because all of this is just fucking crazy.”

“I know! It’s crazy and it’s cliche, and if I ever fall for another psychopathic rich man, I want you to kill me.”

He laughed, but there was a look in his eye. You couldn’t really tell if it was guilt or some other kind of remorse. Your smile fell from your lips as you remembered, unsure of how you had ever forgotten- Eddie had just killed a woman. He had done it for your sake, to save your life, but you didn’t know how that action would weigh upon his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “For coming to get me. And I’m so sorry for- for everything else.”

Eddie shrugged, as if shooting someone hadn’t bothered him in the slightest, “Anything for my best girl. Now come on, we need to find a way out of this fuckin place. Hopper’s on his way, he’ll be here soon- not soon enough, but soon.”

You nodded, but you stood still as he began to pull away. Before he could get far, you launched yourself at him again, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I mean it,” your voice was muffled by his body, firm and solid beneath your lips, “Thank you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get us into this mess, I should’ve followed my gut, and-”

“Hey, hey,” two of his fingers slipped under your chin, tilting your head up, “Look at me, angel. Look at me.”

His eyes were soft, gentle, and indescribably comforting. You raised your hand, slipping it into his much larger one. You couldn’t help but watch as his muscles flexed, his fingers wrapping around your own.

When he spoke again, his voice was soft and quiet. For a fleeting moment, you found yourself captivated by his lips, “You don’t need to apologize. For any of this. Look, I’m a coward. I know I am. But if you’re in trouble, I need you to know that I will always come to get you. It doesn’t matter if it’s this homicidal family, another homicidal family, or some other shit.”

He paused. His hand was so cold in yours. You never wanted to let go of him.

“When it’s you, I can put the fear aside. When it’s you, I can be brave.”

The air stilled for a moment as you let his words wash over you. They warmed your skin like soft flame, and without another thought, you brought his still freezing hand to your lips. You pressed a gentle kiss across the back of his fingers, silently returning the affection he's given you. When you met his eyes again, his cheeks burned an impossible red, but he could not hide the smile that spilled across his face like wine across a fine linen.

“Now,” he cleared his throat, “We’re gonna get out of here, and Hopper’s gonna fix this shit, and I’m gonna take you home, and we’re gonna stop for soft tacos on the way, and we are never watching Ready or Not again. Sound good?”

“That sounds amazing,” you returned his grin, but before you could say anything else, you heard voices echoing through one of the endless hallways. It was time for more running, “Let’s go.”

“Good plan!” Eddie kept your hand in his as he bolted, “You’re so smart, did you know that? I always love your plans. “I think I love your plans more!” you panted, knowing that you, at the very least, were not talking about plans.

You weren’t sure how Eddie felt about you, but as the two of you threw open doors in the hopes of an exit manifesting itself, you became sure of your own feelings. Truly and completely, you were in love with Eddie Munson.

Maybe you should’ve been worried about that. Maybe you should’ve felt some heavy sense of dread that he wouldn’t return the feeling. Maybe, under normal circumstances, you would’ve felt that way. However, given the fact that this self-professed coward had broken into this place for you, shot a woman for you, and saved your life, you were pretty confident that he felt something for you.

“This way! They went this way!”

But you would never know for sure if Roman’s family managed to find you before you could ask.

You threw open every door you found as you ran, again looking for an escape while creating a million distractions. Eddie followed your lead, catching on quickly as if he was built for this exact insane situation.

Behind each door was the same kind of shit- bedrooms, closets, storage spaces holding extravagant nothings (you were pretty sure you saw the shape of a grand piano.) You could feel your hunters closing in. The hallways and corridors of the mansion seemed to close in around you and Eddie. Then, there came the final door.

It was painted red, though the colour had faded and chipped away through the years. Without a second thought, you seized the brass door knob and turned it. The door opened to reveal an empty black space. You couldn’t see the end of the room.

A frigid draft blew in through the new space raising goosebumps on your skin. The smell of rotting flesh overtook you. You shivered, trying not to retch as you looked around, desperate for another escape. Other than the red door, you had found yourself at a dead end.

“(Y/N), come on, let’s hide and find another way out.”

“There’s no time,” there really wasn’t. You could hear Adam’s enraged screaming getting louder and louder with every passing second. You wouldn’t let yourself be caught.

You grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him into the dark. As you ran further into the room, the light from the hallway shrunk down until it was nothing but a pinprick. The smell of mold and decay got stronger as you ventured further inside. Flies buzzed around just out of swatting distance. Your body trembled, struggling to get warm as the room got colder and colder. Eddie’s hand was an anchor in a sea of nothingness. You held him tighter, desperate to know that he was there.

Towards the back of the room, another light came into view, blood red like a warning. You raced towards it, Eddie’s hand in yours. The dim crimson light illuminated a set of poorly painted metal stairs. You didn’t even stop to wonder what the hell they were doing in a mansion like this. You didn’t stop to wonder where they led. The breeze on your face- though it smelled putrid as anything- felt like freedom. You moved down the stairs faster than was safe. Eddie followed behind you hesitantly, though he didn’t slow you down.

You seemed to descend for an eternity, moving down until the light faded and you were in the dark again. When you finally met solid ground again, you surged forward, running in an animalistic panic through what you had to assume was a basement. You kept telling yourself that you would be safe, that you were almost out the door.

Then, the floor fell out from beneath you. The shotgun slipped from your hands, landing somewhere deep below with a dull thud. A scream tore itself from your lips, echoing back up the stairwell and giving away your location instantly.

Eddie pulled you back to solid ground and turned you, keeping your face tucked into this chest. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you secure in his embrace. He was muttering something, but you couldn’t hear him over the rush of blood in your ears. Your fingers gripped his shirt so tightly that it made your knuckles sore. Your ribs ached as your breath came to you in harsh pants.

You turned to look at where you had fallen.

All too late, Eddie’s voice finally became clear, “Don’t look at it, (Y/N). Don’t look, you don’t need to look.”

You had nearly fallen into a pit. It was deep. Wide. And the bottom was absolutely lined with corpses.

You could see bones sticking up through tattered old finery. Flesh still clung to fingers, decorated with once gleaming rings. Eyeless sockets stared up at you through matted, fetid, rotting clumps of hair and scalp.

You were looking down at centuries of sacrifices, first and second and third wives of the LeBuer family, victims of a ritual that you could not hope to understand.

If it weren’t for Eddie’s hold on you, you would have collapsed.

“I see you’ve found your future tomb.”

You whirled around. As your eyes adjusted to the low light, you could see Adam standing on the stairs. Alex limped down behind him, his mouth drawn up in a pained grimace. Eddie pushed you behind him, trying to protect you from this new, hellish encounter.

“You won’t touch her,” he growled, “Not while I’m here.”

“Oh, shut up, guttersnipe. This isn’t about you. This could never be about you. All we want is the girl,” Alex hissed, though you couldn’t tell which was stronger in his voice- hatred or agony.

“Look, trailer trash, we’ll even make you a deal for her,” as Adam spoke, you wrapped your hands around Eddie’s wrists, trying to provide some form of comfort. You weren’t sure if it worked, or if it just made you look like a damsel in distress, but at least you tried.

“We’ll set you up for a few years, and in exchange,” Adam continued, “You give us the girl. And you keep quiet about this, of course. The LeBuer name has a reputation. If any of this were to get out-”

“Any of what? The demon sacrifice? The murder of innocents for your own selfish needs?”

“And how would you know about any of that you fucking heathen?”

Eddie shrugged, “Just trust me on this one, man. I know.”

“Look at him, Adam,” Alex wheezed, “He would know demons. He fucking looks like one.”

Adam scoffed, shaking his head at Alex’s attempt at a joke… or was it an insult? You were too tired and terrified to give a shit.

“Okay boys, fun’s over, I’m afraid I’m not up for exchange this fine evening. Now if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time to leave. Thank your parents for hosting, Adam, it’s been wonderful-”

The deafening sound of a gunshot cut you off.

You screamed, reaching up at your ears to protect them from the noise. Eddie had the same idea, and Alex and Adam ducked right to the ground, lying on their bellies as you all looked up to see who had shot.

Roman stood on the stairs, his back just bathed in the faintest crimson light. In his hands he held another fucking gun. Honestly, by that point you were so fucking tired you almost hoped he’d just shoot you with it.

Clearly, God, Roman, and also Eddie, had other plans.

Eddie tucked you behind him, making it absolutely fucking clear to everyone in the room that if they wanted to hurt you, they would have to go through him first- and oh, how your heart sunk as you realized you were something Eddie wanted to protect. In that moment, you knew you were precious to him. Maybe you were something he’d searched all of time and space for and finally found. You wanted to fucking scream again, but your throat was really starting to hurt.

Roman just sighed. As he made his way down the stairs, his pace was leisurely and completely self assured. He didn’t even aim the gun at you or Eddie- he barely even spared you a glance.

“My good gentleman, I assure you, this isn’t how we wanted this night to go.”

“Don’t even start with that bullshit, man. Don’t fucking gentleman me. Maybe you didn’t want to spend the night in your corpse dungeon, but I’m perfectly happy to be here,” Eddie’s voice had a harsh edge to it, one that made you want to cling onto him and never let go. If you were too tired to fight this battle- which at this point in the night, you had every right to be- you knew he would handle this thing for you. For the both of you.

“Are you? You’re happy to defend an empty vessel? Happy to stand on the edge of a pit filled with the lowest form of decay? Well, I guess it’s an upgrade from whatever hovel you crawled out of.”

Nevermind. Fuck lying dormant while Eddie protected you. You were going to protect him, too.

“Oh, would you fuck off, Roman,” you barked, woken up from your angst-filled exhaustion, “How long have you been bottling up the classist insults? Just through our relationship? Or did you hide even before that? Come on, then. If you’re hurling insults at people who don’t spend stupid amounts on whatever pathetic bullshit you call “luxury,” you should probably spare one for me. We were partners, after all.”

Eddie’s eyes were filled with pride and fear in equal measure- he looked like he wanted to kiss you and shove you back behind him for your own safety. Roman, on the other hand, had the audacity to look hurt.

“Were?”

It was your turn to scoff, “You were planning to sacrifice me to the devil for your own sake- and for the sake of your secret wife. You expect me to serve you, to die so you can have a kid. You used me, Roman, and I’m sick of your shit. We’re fucking done.”

He stood still on for a moment, his eyes darting between you and Eddie from his place on the stairs.

“I was right,” he finally mumbled, “It’s you and him.”

In the silence that followed, Eddie’s hand found its way back into yours. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, over every ridge and vein his hand had to offer. He squeezed his fingers around yours in return, pulling you close to him with no intention of letting go.

“Very well, then,” Roman pointed the gun at Eddie’s chest, “You’ll both die screaming.”

You knocked Eddie to the ground as Roman fired a shot. The overwhelming sound of gunfire echoed off the walls, making everyone in the room wince and cover their ears. It gave you an opening.

With Eddie’s hand in yours, you bolted towards the stairs. Alex recovered from the sound first. He jumped towards you. Eddie let go of you for a moment, just so he could fight off your assailant. As his punches landed, Alex staggered back. He made weak attempts to return Eddie’s blows, but he was no match for the metalhead. For the second time that night, Alex went down like a bitch. He rolled across the floor, coughing and swearing until he fell off the edge of the floor.

The third time Alex went down that night, he went all the way down to the corpse pit.

You froze, listening to Alex’s scream as he plunged out of sight. A dull thud echoed through the room as he landed. Bones crunched beneath him, rotten flesh squelching as Alex slipped through old blood and viscera. You could barely hear him screaming over the buzz of disrupted flies. The smell of rancid meat rose into the air. Bile rose in your throat as the screaming turned to desperate retching. Eddie stood still, gazing into the pit with an expression you couldn’t name.

Before you could reach out to him, an arm wrapped around your throat. You let out a yelp as someone pulled you into the firm plane of their chest. Your heart fell through your chest as you clawed and scratched at your attacker. You couldn’t afford to show them mercy. You bit and tore at them, drawing blood and shrieking like a feral animal as their other arm curled around your waist. Through your adrenaline fueled haze, you were absolutely sure that it was Roman’s voice calling you a bitch.

Eddie raced to help you, moving faster than you thought a person could go. Adam interfered, advancing on Eddie viciously. Unlike Alex, Adam was adept at fighting and capable of heinous violence. The two men exchanged blows with equal force and brutality, landing hits until Eddie’s nose was bloodied and the side of Adam’s face was painted purple.

In the interim, you didn’t stop fighting. As Eddie and Alex beat the shit out of each other, Roman tried to pull you towards the stairs. In retaliation, you took a sizable chunk out of his arm with your teeth. You gagged as you spat out his flesh- the sensation of hot, metallic blood spilling past your lips was almost too much to bear. Roman growled, and you could feel his hand tangle itself in the roots of your hair, pulling you away from his new wound.

“I’ll credit you with this, my darling,” Roman grunted, pulling you backwards as you spat out his blood, “You’ve put up a good fight. But you have to know, this can only end one way.”

Beside the body pit, Adam had finally managed to pin Eddie to the ground. You watched as the bastard gripped Eddie’s jaw and turned his head to face you. Eddie looked absolutely devastated. Panic swirled in his warm brown eyes as he kept trying to free himself. No matter how hard he tried, he was still forced to look at you as Roman wrapped a hand around your throat and started to squeeze.

As your vision began to swim, Adam leaned down, pressing his lips to Eddie’s ear. You clawed at Roman’s arm like an animal. Your nails tore at his already open wound, but he held you fast, placing another hand just below your navel to keep you still.

“I get what you see in her, pretty boy,” you could hear Adam’s words, muffled slightly by the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, “She’s hot when she struggles.”

Beneath his assailant, Eddie growled, digging his nails into any flesh he could reach. Adam barely winced.

“It’s a shame you won’t leave this room- I mean, the things we’re gonna do to her once we get upstairs. It would be a wet dream for a freak like you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes as the threat set in. Fear burrowed itself inside of you, eating away at your flesh as flies fed on the bodies below. Across the room, Eddie grit his teeth, his eyes flashing with rage. You didn’t see him land his next hit. You didn’t see him claw at Adam’s face. You didn’t see anything- it was all too fast. All you knew was that one moment, Adam was smirking down at Eddie, and the next his face was covered in blood. Adam shrieked, his hands hovering over his face as crimson gushed from four deep, perfect wounds embedded in his flesh.

In his panic, Adam made a terrible mistake. He let Eddie go. Without a second of hesitation, Eddie tackled his assailant. He wrapped his pale, slender hand around Adam’s throat and squeezed. You watched Eddie’s knuckles turn white, his veins standing out against his skin. Beneath him, Adam gasped for air, thrashing desperately in an attempt to escape. You could hear him choking on his own blood as it poured down his face.

You heard something snap. A smile snuck its way onto your face.

Adam was still gasping, though the sound was almost nothing now. Static filled your ears. Roman screamed, a sound of deep rage, right in your ears. Eddie looked up at you, his eyes wide. A thick strand of scarlet something dripped from between Eddie’s lips.

And then he was gone.

You watched as Eddie fell back into the pit, dragging Adam with him. Someone was screaming- you. You were screaming. You couldn’t feel the strain in your throat. You could barely hear the sound. You hadn’t heard the gun go off, even though Roman had shot it inches away from your skull. You couldn’t feel Roman pulling you back. You couldn’t feel the stairs hitting the backs of your legs as he dragged you back up into the house.

All you could see was the dark void that Eddie had fallen into. All you knew was that dark void. There was nothing else. Tears ran down your cheeks. Eddie was gone. Broken sobs left your body as you collapsed into Roman’s arms- into the arms of the man that had destroyed your world in seconds. You were nothing but a wounded animal, now. Hunted, maimed, and brought forth for slaughter. You took some bitter joy in that thought. You knew you would see Eddie soon enough.

The hallways of the LeBuer mansion blurred into nothing. The portraits on the walls had the decency to look bereaved, but every little Jesus on every little cross you passed seemed to laugh at you. All the fight had been drained from you like blood from a cadaver. You said nothing as Roman pulled you back into the dining room. You didn’t flinch at his family’s carnivorous smiles. You didn’t make a sound when Roman let you drop to the floor.

Bruises began to form on your arms and shoulders but you didn’t feel the pain. Someone took your phone, not that it mattered. You let the family place you on their table. You let Roman tie you down. You let Cathrine tear open your dress. Even the chill of the room on your exposed flesh didn’t bother you. You just laid there, still as death, while Benedict approached with a large, intricate blade. He handed it off to his son.

“Roman, dearest, did you drug her?” Cecilia asked, “She hasn’t moved an inch. Usually they squirm so much…”

“Don’t worry, mother. As far as it concerns us, she’s already dead.”

“That’ll make the next few steps a lot easier. Perhaps she’ll bleed less,” Cathrine put a hand to your cheek, gently brushing the smooth pads of her fingers over your flesh. Her face was the only thing you could see, the only thing you had to focus on as the knife finally dug deep into your skin.

You refused to scream. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Your tears, however, spilled from your eyes without your consent. Cathrine’s smile grew wider as her family tortured you, as you were penetrated again and again with the blade. You couldn’t see what they were doing. You didn’t know when they would finally end your suffering. Your world was made up of her cruel eyes and nothing else.

Your blood burned as it dripped over your sides, pooling beneath you until you could feel it between the table and the flesh of your back. You could hear drops of it falling to the marble floor. The sound was enough to drive you crazy- that is, if the pain didn’t do it first.

The blade ripped through your skin, diving deep into you with such brutality that your body shook from the force. You could feel yourself choking on blood. The world was turning gray, tunneling into a mess of static. The grunts of effort from Roman’s family were muted by the panicked sound of your own breathing. You were going to die here. You were going to die here, and Cathrine would be the last thing you would see. You didn’t try to fight it.

In a weird way, it was almost like sex- the blade thrusting in and out of your body, making you bleed, making you hurt. It was a violent intrusion. A man imposing his will on you to serve his own desires.

You didn’t have it in you to fight, but you did want to throw up really badly.

When she finally pulled back, you had just enough strength to look up and see what they’d done to you. You’d been stabbed. Just stabbed, a thousand times without a hint of grace or tact. You could see yourself bleeding out, blood pulsing to the surface with every weak beat of your heart. The sight made you sick. There was something viscerally wrong about your mutilated body lying before you.

You let out a soft cry as Roman put his hand low on your abdomen. It was a pitiful sound, the only thing you could make as your heart struggled to keep you alive.

“Thank you. For your sacrifice,” he pressed down, a final act of cruelty.

Cathrine wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “It’s what any woman would do.”

“My family,” Benedict began. Though his voice sounded miles away, you could still hear the jovial tone in his words, “Let us begin the prayer.”

You watched as Roman took Cathrine’s hand in his- specifically, his hand that wasn’t stained in your blood. She grabbed the golden crucifix around her throat and held it with a look of pride and hope.

“Our father,” you couldn’t tell who was speaking anymore. You just knew that they sounded happy.

“Forgive us this trespass and send us a servant of the one below.”

The lights flickered. You almost wanted to laugh. This was some cheesy fuckin shit. The air took on a sudden chill, not that you could feel it. Your blood provided you with a scorching heat as it spilled from your veins.

“A servant of your fallen son, to bless this fallen daughter.”

The lights flickered again. You could hear something loud above the voices. Something crashing, loud like thunder but not as natural.

“To bestow upon our family the ultimate gift- a child-” their voices cut out, “And your name.”

You were pretty sure one of the ten commandments was not to murder anyone- but you knew you weren’t a person to them. Thou shalt not kill didn’t apply to slaughtered lambs. Why would it apply to you?

“Accept this most humble offering, this lamb to slaughter, this child of Abraham.”

You heard a door open.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Or whatever. Amen.”

That voice- that voice was new. Roman’s family stopped their prayer. You could hear someone gasp. They sounded terrified. You wondered, briefly, what they would have to fear.

“You- you can’t be here. You’re dead.”

“Huh. Thanks for filling me in, I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise.”

“I shot you-”

“I’m aware.”

“Roman, who is this boy?” Was that Cecilia or Cathrine? For the life of you- something that was quickly coming to an end- you could not fucking tell.

“You asked for a demon,” you heard a pause. Footsteps. Something fell to the floor with a crash, “You got one.”

“No- you’re not, you can’t be-”

“Roman, darling-” was it concerning that you still couldn’t tell if that was your ex’s wife or his mom? It didn’t matter. The next thing you heard was Roman, enraged. You were sure of that. You heard it enough times.

“ENOUGH- I’m going to end this! I’m going to end-”

A shot rang out. There was another pause. Something small and metal clattered to the floor. Silence followed.

The lights went out.

Bathed in darkness, the voice of the new guest suddenly became clear, and when he spoke a fresh round of tears fell from your eyes. You were dead now. You were sure of it. The afterlife was fucking weird, but you were certain.

“Hey there, angel. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you. Just tell me what to do.”

You drew in a shaky breath, your chest rattling, aching with the effort. The cold air hurt your lungs. You felt like you were burning from the inside out.

“Help me, Eddie.”

In an instant, his presence was gone. The room was still dark. When Eddie spoke again, his voice came from the doorway again.

“You’re going to get away from her now,” his voice was low, his words a warning, “This is your only warning.”

Footsteps echoed through the room. Someone was running. There was a grunt, a sound like someone exerting effort, throwing a punch.

There followed an awful, fleshy, tearing sound. Roman’s screams of agony met your ears, just as the snap of breaking bones jolted you back to some level of reality. There was another shout, a scream of paternal rage. More footsteps- and again, the sound of flesh being torn from bone. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel bad about that. In fact, you almost laughed.

The next cry that rang out was definitely Cecilia’s. The noise she made was cut short, overtaken by cracking sounds of a shattering rib cage. Someone choked on their own blood, gagging and sputtering their way to a brutal death. You couldn’t really feel bad about that, either.

Roman was still screaming. You could hear Cathrine’s voice, demanding Roman’s freedom. It didn’t help much. The next thing you heard was Roman’s pained gasps for air.

Eddie’s voice rang out again, a source of comfort amid all the auditory gore.

“Let me get this straight. You two shit stains wanted a child so badly that you were willing to torture an innocent woman to get one? You were willing to brutalize her for your own sake?”

“It’s tradition! Roman’s family is cursed- they must have a sacrifice in the name of God! A holy baptism of blood! A new mass! The killing of one womb so that they may conceive in another-”

“God doesn’t give a shit about your family’s tradition of torture porn,” Eddie’s voice was strange, caught between a growl, a laugh, and a sob, “I’m half convinced he doesn't give a shit about anything. He doesn’t see you, Cathrine. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t bless you, he doesn’t bless this fucked up family, and he doesn’t bless your husband.”

You heard a weak wheeze before Roman spoke, “She- she gave her consent. I had her, she whored herself out to me. That means-”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN SHIT,” Eddie had been enraged the entire time he’d been speaking, but this was something new. From your place on the dining table/alter, you could see a red light flickering off the ceiling.

“Consent to sex is not consent to ritual sacrifice, you stupid fuck.”

You were pretty sure the black mass that flew across your vision was Roman. You weren’t sure how Eddie managed that one, but you sure as shit weren’t complaining. A deafening crash came from one of the cabinets. Glass shattered on impact. You laughed- the sound was wet and broken, and the laugh itself was painful, but the sound still escaped. You hoped that whatever had happened to Roman had fucking hurt.

“Roman!” Cathrine’s scream all but confirmed your theory. You heard her footsteps as she tried to get to her husband, but something stopped her.

“And you. Well, you’re just a fucking disappointment. Tell me, kid, what makes you think you’re any different? What makes you think you’ll be spared from him? From his wrath? From his family? There’s a pit in the basement full of bodies, full of people this family has sacrificed for their own gain. What makes you think you won’t join them?”

“He- he loves me. Roman loves me.”

“He told (Y/N) the same thing. Look what he did to her. Look what you did to her.”

“She- she would have done the same thing! She would have killed me!”

“No. Not like this. I, on the other hand-”

Eddie didn’t finish that sentence. You just heard the squelch of skin splitting, the sound of something wet falling to the floor, and a half scream from the woman who watched as the light in your eyes faded to nothing. Like that, she was gone. You couldn’t help the smile that slipped across your face. You shut your eyes.

“(Y/N)- (Y/N), come on, keep your eyes open.”

You did. Eddie was above you, haloed in red light- and something was different. His eyes were dark, pupils blown. It almost looked like the dark overtook the whites of his eyes. His skin was pale, ashen, far more so than it normally was. You reached towards him and when he moved to take your hands you noticed them. Massive leathery wings stretched out behind your boy. You had to be dead already. Or at least close to it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hand squeezing yours, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt, I never wanted you to see me like this-”

“You…” your voice was weak. Your blood stained your lips and teeth, “You’re pretty.”

He let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. It broke your heart, a little bit. You wanted to pull him close to you and never let him go, but it hurt to move. You just wanted to close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

“No, no, no, come on. Stay with me, angel, stay awake.”

You could only hum in response.

“I- I’m going to have to touch you. Is that okay?”

You wanted to tell him that he could touch you however he wanted to. He could do whatever he wanted, he could finish what the LeBuers had started and cut you to bits and you would let him. Whatever was left of you was his. You loved him, and you wanted him to know that. All you could do was lie there and nod.

Apologies spilled from his lips as he let go of your hand and placed his own over your wounds. His touch was feather light. It should have hurt. By all logic, it should have hurt, but you didn’t feel any pain. You could feel something sharp against your flesh, but whatever it was, it didn’t cut into you. It just scratched sweetly across your skin as his fingers traced over your stomach and your ribs.

Eddie brushed over you slowly, gently, in a way that filled you with want. You could feel his hands start to tremble as they moved lower and lower. Warmth seeped into your body wherever he touched you. Slowly, the agony you felt- the sharp sting of your torn flesh, the bruised ribs, all of it- it just faded away.

You opened your eyes and slipped your hand into Eddie’s. Your fingers tangled with his over your stomach. Where you expected to feel blood, you only felt your own skin- and something sharp, attached to Eddie’s hands. Claws. Neat.

Your strength was coming back slowly, inch by inch, but you could feel it- you could feel life return to every vein and nerve you had.

“Whatever you’re doing,” you whispered, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

A smile broke out across his face, “I won’t. I promise, I promise I won’t.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and giving you a good view of those things behind him- wings. Actual fucking wings. They were beautiful, terrifying, and they were half wrapped around you, keeping you close to Eddie. You loved them, instantly, but good lord were you confused.

“Am I dead?” your voice was still quiet, still fragile despite your growing strength.

“No, sweetheart. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I couldn’t let them take you from me.”

“So this…” your eyes searched his face, “All of this is real. I’m not dead or dreaming?”

“You’re not. You’re awake, and alive, and in a few minutes we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “That’s nice. Are you going to fly me out of here?”

He paused, seeming surprised, as if he had forgotten about the massive wings behind him. A deep blush overtook his face, painting him red from his jaw to his ears.

“Yeah, about that,” he winced, “I know this is a terrible time to tell you, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I’m not really a person. Or at least, I’m not anymore. I’m so sorry that-” You cut him off before he could say anything else.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect. It’s all very metal.”

He laughed at your words, ignoring the tears that spilled over his cheeks. Without a word, you reached for him, trying to maneuver yourself into a sitting position as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down, meeting you halfway, and burying his face in the bare skin of your shoulder. His messy curls stuck to your skin. His strong arms curved around your back, his fingers digging into you as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Just hold me for a second, please,” you whispered, running your fingers up and into his hair, “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he gasped, his voice trembling terribly, “I almost lost you. You’re not leaving my sight ever again.”

“Good,” your voice broke, your eyes burning as tears of your own began to fall, “Don’t let me go. Don’t ever let me go.”

“I won’t. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Eddie pulled away first. You made a small sound of protest, but he wasn’t gone long. He didn’t even take his hands off of you. He just took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

When you looked down at your body, at his clothes covering you, you couldn’t help but notice that you had been healed of every single stab wound and every single bruise. There wasn’t even a scar left behind.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”

“I mean it, Eds. I would have died if you hadn’t come to get me, I-” you paused, watching as Eddie anxiously bit his lip. Heat pooled in your stomach like the births and deaths of a thousand stars. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You really wanted to kiss him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you moved closer, your lips barely an inch away from his.

His eyes went wide. His grip on you tightened. You could feel his breath catch, feel the way he tensed up in anticipation. Everything about him betrayed how badly he wanted you.

“Shit, I-” he took a shuddering breath, his fingers kneading a pattern into your skin, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“Good,” you leaned in, but he stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder to put some space between you. You paused, tilting your head as his fingers ran down to your hip.

“Wait,” his voice was so quiet, “Just wait. I don’t want to- I don’t want to take advantage, y’know? You just went through something terrifying, and I-”

“You don’t want to hurt me,” you reached up to cradle Eddie’s jaw in your hands, letting your thumbs stroke across his skin, “You’re still protecting me. You’ve been doing that all night, y’know. You should let yourself take a break.”

Eddie tried not to grin and failed. His grip tightened on you as you pulled him closer, your chest pressing against his as you sat up properly.

“Hey, I have a demon question for ya,” you pulled one hand away from his face, tracing lines up and down his arm. You followed the thick ridges of his veins, a deep blue against his pale skin. You hid your grin as he inhaled sharply. His fingers would definitely leave bruises on your hip, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.

“Demons usually offer their aid in exchange for something, right?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Just answer the question, Munson,” you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, and you watched him melt in front of you.

“Yes, we usually take souls and shit, but I couldn’t ask you for that. I couldn’t, I-”

“Could you take something else?”

He let out a half gasp, “Wh- what?”

“Could you. Take. Something else?” you met his gaze dead on, “A firstborn, maybe?”

“Oh, sweet girl, you are trying to kill me.”

You giggled- actually fucking giggled- and leaned into his chest. Maybe you were trying to kill him, just a little bit. Maybe you wanted something else.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, something across the room broke. Beneath the collapsed gun cabinet, something was moving.

“Shit,” Eddie whispered, “Get behind me.”

Without another word, he let you go and moved to stand in front of you. His wings spread wide, blocking you from sight as someone began to rise from the rubble.

“I’ll kill you,” Roman’s voice was weak, “I’LL KILL BOTH OF YOU!”

“Don’t you people ever die?” Eddie asked, exasperated as his body tensed, preparing for a fight.

You stepped to the side ever so slightly, getting a glimpse of Roman that you very much could have lived without. There he was, your ex boyfriend, his face painted red with his own blood. His shirt was torn revealing bruised and broken skin beneath.

He looked like a monster. And he looked like he wanted to kill Eddie.

For whatever reason, your gaze turned to the side. You winced as your eyes fell upon Cecilia’s body, lying across the room in a pool of crimson. Eddie had destroyed her. He’d destroyed all of them. It was a gorey sight, but you had a hard time finding sympathy for a woman who watched as you were held down and tortured. If Roman wasn’t being a little shit, you might have grinned.

Beside her, in a puddle of viscera that you could only assume was once Benedict , was the elaborately decorated knife that almost brought about your end.

“You haven’t even seen the worst that I could do to her,” Roman growled, “You love her, don’t you, demon? Then it’ll hurt you even more when I flay her alive.”

“You won’t live long enough to get the chance.”

“Won’t I? I’ve lived this long! You killed everyone else, but I’m still here! I-I have been chosen! By you- by God!”

You slipped under the table, dashing across the room to grab the knife.

“Man, I genuinely thought you were dead until right now. Your survival was a mistake.”

“There are no mistakes, demon. I was meant to be here. I was meant to survive! To carry on the LeBuer line! And I think I’ll use that pet of yours to do it.”

Eddie made a deep, inhuman sound at the back of his throat. From your space across the room, you watched as he lunged at Roman, teeth and claws bared. He was ready to attack, and so enraged that he didn’t see the grin that spread across the LeBuer boy’s face.

When Eddie flew across the room, Roman dove out of the way, bending down and seizing a wayward piece of glass. He leapt at Eddie, shoving him into the wall and bringing his forged weapon to his chest. Roman’s hand bled where it clenched around the sharp object, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’d kill you now, demon, but it would be much more fun to make you watch,” he pressed the glass into Eddie’s shirt. Honestly, it didn’t do much. Eddie pulled back, his neck tensed. He looked absolutely murderous. Realizing his mistake, Roman dropped the blade and wrapped his undamaged hand around Eddie’s throat. It took everything you had to keep from screaming- and you couldn’t scream- for the sake of stealth.

The two men were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice you coming. They didn’t notice you leveling the knife at Roman’s back.

“Roman,” you called his attention to you. Roman turned, and from the look in his eyes alone, you knew that given half the chance, he would make good on every threat he’d made.

You took a deep breath and drove the knife straight through Roman’s chest. You didn’t stop until you had run him through. Roman let out an agonized screech as he stared down at the blade protruding through his body. You winced as he collapsed, his weight pulling the blade from your hands. As he spit blood at your feet, you whispered, “We’re. Fucking. Done.”

A moment passed, silent and still. Your hands shook slightly. Taking another deep breath, you looked up at Eddie. His big dark eyes were already on you. Without another thought, you leapt over Roman’s body, running into Eddie’s arms. You fell into him, and he caught you like he was made to do just that.

He held you close, his grip strong and reassuring. You buried your face in his chest for a moment, your hands gripping onto him hard enough to bruise. You could feel his wings wrap around you again, locking you in a soft and safe dimension of your own. Eddie whispered something to you, several somethings, but you couldn’t quite hear him. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest, but you couldn’t register anything. It was all just static.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. His soft lips were moving, speaking, and the motion was hypnotic.

“Can I kiss you now?”

He paused, lips parted slightly and eyes wide. You spread your fingers across his chest, brushing your thumb across his collar bone.

“I saved you. You saved me,” you leaned closer, “We’re even now, right? So we can kiss each other without feeling bad about it?”

He stared at your lips. His eyebrows furrowed together slightly, creating the picture of a conflicted man. You could feel his heart racing in his chest, just beneath your fingertips.

“Eddie?”

“Fuck it.”

Eddie’s lips were on yours before you could make another sound. His hands were on your face in an instant, cradling your jaw with such a sweet intensity that you almost melted into him, then and there. Your hands came up to grip his arms, and you followed them up the shape of his body until your fingers wrapped around his shoulders. Without another thought, you pulled him closer.

He let out the sweetest sounds as you parted his lips with your tongue. You wrapped one of your legs around his, desperate to feel his touch everywhere you could. He lowered a hand to your waist, nearly clawing your side in his desperation to hold you. Need turned the both of you into animals just a few shades from feral.

“We’re even,” he spoke against your lips, breathless and panting, “We are so, so even, angel. Fuck-”

“Haha, I get it now. You’re a demon, and I’m-” you cut yourself off, whining into Eddie’s mouth as he bit down on your lip just hard enough to make your flesh sting.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered as pressed kisses to your jaw, “You’re my angel. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Eds, I’m- I’m perfect… When's Hopper gonna get here?”

He paused, tilting his head, “Not for a while… why?”

“Because I have plans for us, pretty boy.”

A wicked grin crossed Eddie’s lips as he dove back into you.

Eddie may have seen you as angelic, but the thoughts running through your head were anything but holy. Your blood seemed to burn wherever he touched you. Sparks flew with every touch he left on your skin. You were seconds away from catching fire, from burning brighter than any star the sky had to offer. You let out a soft moan as Eddie’s lips trailed down your throat.

“I need you,” you panted, “I need you, Eddie, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweet girl, whatever you-”

You cut him off by leaning forward and wrapping your lips and teeth around his shoulder. You bit down, marking him up without drawing blood. The moan that slipped from him was far too pretty for you to handle. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against him desperately. You were very much aware that you were acting like a pathetic slut, but you didn’t really care. You needed him- and judging by the hard length pressed against you, he needed you just as much.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him blindly towards the altar/table in the center of the room. He followed eagerly. You both stumbled, nearly falling to the ground since you both refused to break the kiss.

Your back hit the altar with a harsh thud. You let out a soft whine, jumping up to sit on the flat surface just as Eddie pulled away.

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt-”

“I’m fine,” you reached behind you and unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the sacrifice room, “Can you do me a favor and tear off what’s left of my dress?”

Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t say anything, either. He kind of just froze for a second. When you looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes were completely glued to your chest. A sweet blush graced his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but grin.

The fact that he wanted you, that he couldn’t look away from you set off another set of sparks deep inside your body. Absolute want pooled at your core as galaxies formed in his eyes. You were his universe. You could see it.

“You okay there, Munson?”

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

You let out a laugh before reaching out and pulling him close. Once you had him between your thighs, you wrapped your legs around his hips.

“Thank you, Eds. Now are you gonna help me with my dress, or am I going to have to take it off myself?”

You tilted your head to the side, unable to wipe the smile from your face as Eddie continued to devour you with his eyes. His hands came up to your sides, trembling slightly as he took you into his hands. Something dark and dominant flashed in his eyes. His grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to wait a second,” his voice was low, almost inhuman, and fucking delicious to your ears. You laughed again as he buried his face in your chest, kissing and biting your skin, leaving purple marks behind. Your laughter quickly gave way to breathy moans and desperate pleas as Eddie’s lips moved across your exposed flesh. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling at the roots and giving them a slight tug. He growled against you, biting down hard and marking you with the shape of his teeth.

“God, I want you to do terrible things to me.”

“You’re-” he cut himself off with a kiss, “Adorable.”

“I’m serious! I almost died today- we both did. I’ve come face to face with my own mortality, and I realized that life is too short. If I don’t ask you to rail me now, who knows if I’ll get another chance? In other words, please fuck my brains out before we get hit by a meteor or something.”

He laughed. You could feel the vibrations in every place his skin met yours. You kind of wanted to scream.

“We’re not gonna get hit by a meteor.”

“You don’t know that!” you sat up, pulling his face from your chest and holding his jaw in one hand, “We could get meteored any second, so I need you to know that I love you.”

His soft brown eyes bore into your soul for a moment, and honestly, you wouldn’t have cared that much if a meteor did smite you at that particular moment. You had Eddie. You had everything you needed.

“I love you, too,” he pushed you back and finally, finally set his claws on your dress. He tore it off slowly, making you ache with anticipation. You could feel the sharp, pleasant scratch of his nails against your skin again, slipping beneath the waist of your underwear. You really wouldn’t complain if he just ripped you open, but you knew he wouldn’t. Not unless you asked nicely.

“By the way,” he leaned up to kiss you, “I wouldn’t let you get hit by a meteor.”

“Is that something you could prevent?” you tried to come off as confident, but your voice snapped into a million pieces as he pulled your panties down your thighs.

“I’d do my best,” he shrugged, tossing your underwear to the side for the moment.

“That’s comforting.”

“You’re the one that came up with the meteor thing,” he gripped your thighs, claws just biting at your flesh as his fingers flexed, “You know I’ll always protect you.”

He would. He had. He’d proved that much to you. He leaned in slowly, kissing your lips again before moving down to your throat, tracing the pattern of purple bruises and bite marks that he’d already left. You squirmed in his hold, hips thrashing slightly. You could feel yourself dripping. Arousal gathered between your thighs as he eased his way down your body.

Eddie’s arms hooked themselves around your thighs, hands spreading on your hips- he was holding you in place. After pressing another kiss to your skin just below your navel, Eddie paused. When he looked up at you, you could feel the space of the universe fill your lungs. When his eyes met yours, the heat of the sun made its home within your ribcage.

“Please,” you begged. It was all you had to say.

He bit his way down your thigh, leaving another trail of marks on your skin. His lips were so soft against your skin. When he reached your aching pussy, he grinned.

“You’re soaked for me, sweetheart. How long have you needed this?”

“Too long,” you whimpered, though the sound turned into a moan as he pressed a kiss to your throbbing clit.

“My poor girl,” his tone was soft with the slightest hint of mockery. You opened your mouth to respond, but you cut yourself off with a whine as Eddie’s tongue met your entrance. He lapped at you, collecting your arousal like something feral. His nose nudged against your clit, making you cry out his name.

“That’s it baby,” he moaned, “Just like that, fuck.”

You called out his name again, and he buried himself deeper inside you- a reward for your good behaviour. You could feel Eddie smile against you, grinning like a madman and lapping up your arousal as it dripped down his face. You could feel your body clench around nothing, feel yourself draw closer to the edge.

His hands reached up, moving over your hips to your breasts. His calloused fingers brushed over your nipples, squeezing and circling until you threw your head back against the altar. You tugged at his hair again, pulling him closer to your core with a desperate whine- not that he was any better at keeping his composure.

The noises he made were nothing short of delicious- hungry praises and moans that let you know just how much he wanted you. After the blood-soaked night you had, you needed to hear that. You needed to hear him moan your name. You needed to hear how badly he ached for you. It sent you right over the edge.

You let out a weak cry as he devoured you, as he sucked and bit softly, and as his fingers dipped down to find your dripping entrance. You clenched around nothing, your hips thrusting into his face of their own accord. The world faded around you, disappearing into a void of stars that burned half as brightly as you did.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, sounding almost mindless, rambling as if eating you out had decimated his ability to think, “So, so fucking good.”

You simply panted in response. Your grip relaxed on Eddie’s hair for just a second before you pulled him up to face you. He went willingly, obediently, following the unspoken order. When you brought his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on him.

One of his hands left your chest, moving to your back to pull you closer, deeper into the kiss. His fingers spread out across your back, rough fingertips dug into you carefully, almost gently. You pinned his other hand to your chest, threading your fingers through his and pressing your joined hands into your skin. You and Eddie wrapped your bodies around each other, refusing to let go as you kissed the breath from his lips.

His body was soft but firm beneath your hands. He was your anchor, keeping you tethered in the real world, ensuring that you didn’t float off into another world while you were with him. You needed that.

Slowly, keeping his hands on you, you sat up. You wrapped your free arm around his neck. He literally couldn’t get any closer to you, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying. The hand that you had tangled with his slipped away, tracing a line down his chest until it reached the button of his jeans.

You let your fingers play with the fabric, slipping beneath it to feel the rough, scarred skin of his hip. You paused for a minute, surprised at what you felt. Eddie pulled back for a second, a mildly embarrassed look on his face. You didn’t let him stay away for long. You pressed your lips to his again, hard and fast as you full on attacked his jeans.

“You must want me pretty bad, huh, angel?”

“How do you figure?” you asked, pulling him closer with the arm around his neck and bringing your lips to his neck. You kissed the column of his throat for a few moments before you bit down harshly, lips and teeth completely unforgiving. When you pulled back, a large swath of his skin was stained purple.

“Yeah, pretty boy,” you pressed a kiss to the sore spot, “I want you.”

“Good,” he growled, pushing you back onto the table and pulling you to the edge of the surface. He brushed his hand across the side of your face before lowering it, tracing down your side until he reached your cunt, “Because I want to do unspeakable things to you, pretty girl.”

You moaned, your face burning hotter than the heat death of a small universe. Eddie slipped his fingers into you. He took things slow at first, torturing you by easing you into things, pumping into you gently with just the tips of two fingers. You mewled, craving more of his touch. You’d given up on wondering how his claws weren’t cutting you. You just wanted his calloused fingers to go deeper.

Eddie silenced your pleading whines with a kiss. Slipping deeper into you, he whispered, “You have to be patient, angel. You can be patient for me, right?”

“I-” you moaned as he sunk his fingers deeper. His dark eyes watched your face intently, taking in every change in your expression.

“Come on, sweet thing. You can be patient, right?”

You whimpered, opening your mouth to respond. You didn’t get the chance. Eddie moved his fingers again, moving his fingers in and out of your dripping slit. You moaned softly, and as your lips parted, Eddie added a third finger. The sound you made snapped, becoming louder and more desperate as your demon brought you to the edge again.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, “Please. Don’t be mean to me.”

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your lips as he brought his thumb to your clit. You came quickly, thrashing slightly in his arms as you clenched around his fingers.

“God,” he groaned, “You’re so fuckin tight. Such a good girl for me.”

You let out a little whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. The two of you stayed there for a moment, holding each other again as you calmed down.

“Think you can give me one more, pretty girl?”

“Is that even a question?”

He kissed your throat again, keeping you distracted as he freed his cock from his pants. He pulled away for a moment, allowing you to see the absolute monster he kept between his thighs. You knew, now, why he had prepared you so thoroughly. It was necessary.

His cock was almost unnatural- long and thick, red near the tip and covered in veins. It looked… demonic. And you wanted to take him inside you as soon as you possibly could.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“I do,” you grinned, reaching out for him. He leaned in, placing his face against your palm. He smiled down at you, his eyes incredibly fond. You were the thing he had searched all time and space for- and you had searched for him. Now, you were both found, both real- as batshit insane as it was that this was the place that made you so.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he whispered, “If I need to stop.”

“I will. I promise.” He pressed into you, slowly and gently, letting you feel every single ridge and vein. You shut your eyes, moaning softly. Eddie braced himself with one arm, using the other to knead at the soft flesh of your chest. His lips were on your throat again, adding more marks to the sea of purple that he’d already made.

Once he was inside, he paused, just taking a moment to feel your body around him. You clenched down on him, running a hand into his hair to tug at it again.

“You’re so fucking warm,” he growled in your ear, “So fucking tight.”

“Thanks, I worked hard on that.”

Eddie lost his composure, thrusting into you gently as he laughed, “You are so deeply strange. I adore you, did you know that?”

You thrust your hips up towards his, “I kind of figured, I’m not gonna lie.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his thrusts increased in speed as you bathed in the light of his smile. You could feel his cock deep inside of you, pressing against every sensitive spot you had. You moaned softly as his thumb stroked over your nipple. The stimulation of his calloused touch on your breast had you arching your back, pressing further into him.

“You’re so deep inside,” your voice wasn’t much more than a whimper, though you willed it to be stronger, “Fuck, keep going.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he thrust into you harder, leaning down to bite your chest, clearly not satisfied with the job he’d done on your neck.

His hand slipped down to your clit, pressing into your swollen nub. He circled it in time with his thrusts, alternating between heavy pressure and feather light touches until you were seeing stars and screaming his name.

“Are you gonna cum for me sweet thing?”

You didn’t even get to answer his question. You came around his cock quickly, and he fucked you through your orgasm without a moment of hesitation. Your body spasmed, your walls clenching down on him until he moaned your name into your skin.

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath. Eddie’s lips didn’t leave you. He laved his tongue over the bite marks he’d made, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me.”

You clenched down around him again, moaning this time at the praise. You searched your mind for a witty comment, something cute to say to make him laugh, but your brain was full of stars and nothing else. Every time his cock stabbed into you, another damn galaxy found life behind your eyes.

You used the hand you had tangled in Eddie’s hair to pull him closer. You pressed your lips to every part of him that you could reach.

“I love you,” you whispered, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

“I know, sweet thing. I love you, too.”

You tugged his hair, biting down on the side of his throat, and he moaned softly. You clenched your now sensitive walls around him, whimpering slightly at the sensation. He let out a sharp exhale, and his hand left your clit to wrap around your hip. You could feel how wet your cunt was just from the feeling of his damp fingers on your skin.

His thrusts grew harsher, his pace speeding up to something unforgiving. His grip on you was bruising, but you wouldn’t mind the marks.

“Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” you asked, “Are you gonna cum inside me?”

His hips stuttered, and you could practically feel his heart skip a beat, “Can I?”

“Please. I want to feel you- I want this.”

“You- you promise you want this? The whole- the whole deal about your only purpose being to create life, that isn’t in your head, right?”

You shook your head, “No. Not with you.”

One of his hands found one of yours. Your fingers tangled together like they were made to do just that. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Besides, I’m on the pill, anyway.”

He laughed again, briefly against your lips before he went right back to kissing you. He squeezed down on your hand, his teeth grazing your lip. You could feel him twitching against your walls, could feel his cock throbbing inside you.

He thrust all the way inside you as he came. Ropes of hot cum flooded your walls, filling your cunt and warming you from the inside out. Another orgasm took you by surprise, rolling over you suddenly and making you clench down hard. Cum spilled down your thighs, pooling on the altar beneath you.

When Eddie pulled out, you were both completely breathless. His hand was still in yours, his body still draped over top of you. You wrapped your free arm around him, your fingers landing on the spot where his back met his wings. They unfurled behind him, showing you their impressive size in whole.

“You’re amazing,” your voice was quiet, trying not to ruin the post-orgasm haze, “I don’t know how I managed to land you.”

“Are you kidding?” he murmured, his voice just as quiet, “I don’t know how I managed to land you. You’re terrifying,” he pressed a kiss to your collarbone, “And sweet,” another kiss, “And you’re fucking stunning,” a third kiss.

He pulled back, warm eyes dead focused on you, “I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I have been for a while.”

“Good. Because I love you, too, and I think all of this would be a touch awkward if you didn’t love me.”

He grinned, pressing his face into your shoulder and pulling you up. More cum spilled out of you and onto the altar. You reached down, collecting some of it on your fingers and putting it in your mouth.

“Fuck-” Eddie hissed, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

You threw your head back, cackling as Eddie put his forehead against your shoulder.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?”

“Normally? No. But I just noticed that that painting looks kind of like my dad, and it’s freaking me out,” he pointed at the wall, to the massive portrait of the smirking gentleman with black hair.

You tilted your head, casually running a hand through Eddie’s hair. If you squinted, you could almost see the resemblance between Eddie and the man in the painting. You didn’t want to think about it. You’d had enough creepy shit for one evening.

“We should get going,” you murmured, wrapping Eddie’s leather jacket around you again, “Hopper will be here soon, and I don’t really want him to see us like this.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie looped his hand beneath your knees, “You brought your stuff for the weekend, right?”

“I-I did. Eddie, wait-!”

Before you could stop him, he lifted you up, carrying you over the bodies and out of the room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly.

“Am I not-? Do I weigh anything to you?”

“Demon strength. It’s like lifting a bunch of grapes.”

You scoffed, letting your head rest against Eddie’s shoulder, “I don’t know where the butlers put my stuff. My bag could be in the body pit for all I know.”

“It’s not, I was down there.”

You scoffed again, ”Well, we’ll have to hunt for my shit I guess.”

You did. It didn’t actually take long. Most of your things had just been left by the door. As was the-

“Oh shit! The wine!” you exclaimed, patting Eddie’s chest until he put you down. You ran over to the bottle, which had been left just beside your bags- bags that you ignored entirely in exchange for the sweet bottle of vintage.

“Angel, don’t you-? Want your clothes first-?”

“Eddie, you don’t understand, this wine was fucking expensive and I didn’t think I was gonna get a chance to drink it.”

You struggled helplessly with the cork for a few seconds before you gave up and handed it to Eddie.

“Demon strength?”

He laughed at you a little, but he did open the bottle for you. While he did, you pulled some clothes out of your bag- a shirt you’d meant to sleep in, and some pajama pants. You kept Eddie’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Once you were dressed, the wine was ready to go. You gave Eddie a cheer, and a small round of applause. He joined you, and for a moment you both applauded like idiots in the foyer of Roman’s big ass house. The portraits seemed to smile down at you, grinning your approval as you drank the blood coloured wine.

You and Eddie passed the bottle back and forth wordlessly as you made your way to the door. Your hand slipped into his again. Every time you held his hand, you felt more and more like that’s what your hands were supposed to do- what you wanted them to do. When you weren’t busy taking over the world, you wanted to hold Eddie close to you.

The two of you sat together on the front stoop of the McMansion. The porch light cast a warm glow over the front yard. The freshly mowed lawn had drowned beneath a sea of leaves since you last saw it. You let your head rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“What the fuck are we gonna tell Hopper?”

Eddie took a drink of the wine, “The truth. Your in-laws tried to kill you. We didn’t let them.”

“I’m pretty sure we both committed several counts of murder tonight.”

He shrugged, “Eh, it wouldn’t be the first time. For me, anyway.”

You looked up at him, concerned, though you didn’t move away from his shoulder, “Should I be concerned?”

“I mean, I haven’t technically killed any people? It’s a long story.”

“Oh,” you nodded, taking the bottle from him and taking down a deep sip of wine, “So. What about the melted puddles of people? How do we explain that? Do we just tell the cops that you’re a demon?”

Again, Eddie shrugged, though a wince crossed his face, “Well, Hopper knows.”

“WHAT?”

“Yep. And Steve. And Robin. They know.”

“What? Okay, okay, who else knows?”

“Nancy doesn’t know officially, but I think she’s aware. Also, you know those kids who come into Family Video like, constantly?”

“Mhmm, the freshmen.”

“Yeah, they know. One of them was there for it.”

“It?”

“The incident. I’ll tell you about it another night, we’ve… we’ve been through a lot today.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I think tonight was my incident.”

“You could definitely call it that.”

You smiled, lacing your fingers with Eddie’s, “If this was my incident, I’m glad you were here for it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, placing his head on top of yours.

“Yeah.”

You let your eyes flutter closed then, knowing that you were safe from harm. When you woke, there would be no sirens, and no flashing lights. Just the guy with the sweet daughter, who bought literally all of the Barbie movies and Die Hard. The former for his daughter and her friend, the latter for his daughter’s other friends.

When you woke, Eddie would be there with you. His eyes would be brown again, and his wings would be tucked away so well that you would wonder if this whole nightmare had been a terrible dream. You would feel his hand around yours, and you would know it hadn’t been. You would know, finally, that you were no longer anyone’s prey.

You were the hunter.

♥ A/N: I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS SINCE SEPTEMBER WHAT THE FUCK. IT'S SO LONG MY EDITING SOFTWARE WOULDN'T ACCEPT IT, SO YOU'RE GETTING THIS THING RAW. happy halloween babes, i hope you enjoyed this. thank you to @mxcheese for reading this a million times, and to my partner for listening to me ramble about various plot points with no context.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #read the tws on this one man #im nervous to actually tag them since tumblr's been Bad about that lately #lmk if i should #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 11 months

Text

another snippet... michelle happens to run into trent crimm on her visit to england, very briefly. (timeline? what timeline. i did not check a timeline)

(ao3.)

The man bumps into her, and then says, voice crisp and polite (she still isn’t used to the posh accents!), “Oh, sorry.”

He has long hair streaked in silver, and glasses, and he’s holding a little notebook and pen.

When he sees her, he blinks. “Oh,” he says, “Hello, I was just looking for your husband, actually. Trent Crimm, the Independent.”

“Ex-husband,” Michelle says, before she can stop herself, because it’s almost a relief to hear out loud.

The man’s—Trent Crimm’s—eyes widen with surprise, something almost like shock flashing over his face, and then he snaps his notebook shut.

“As a journalist,” he says, voice a little higher than before, “I didn’t hear that.”

Right. Fuck.

“Shit, sorry,” she says, “I should—I should watch my mouth, jeez, what am I thinking—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trent Crimm says, almost gently, “You’re, ah. off the record. Divorce is—” he shuffles slightly, a little awkward, and then says, “it’s. hard.”

Ah. Seems like he might be speaking from experience. Part of her wants to say you too, huh? or try and talk to him, but—well, dumping this on a stranger in a pub would be a bad idea anyway, but she isn’t actually stupid. He’s a journalist, after all, and even though she thinks he seems sincere enough, she still probably shouldn’t say anything else.

“Yeah,” is all she says, a little glumly. “Um, anyway, I think—Ted’s over there?”

Trent Crimm’s eyes dart over to where she gestures, but then his lips tighten a little and he says, “I should probably go, actually. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. L—” he falters. “Um.”

“Michelle,” she says, smiling, a little amused and refusing to give him a last name to work with, because British folks were so funny about that.

Sure enough, he grimaces a little, but obliges her and says, “Michelle.”

He gives her a little half-smile and then ducks out, disappearing into the crowd.

She worries a little about the interaction, but—he seemed like a decent sort, right? So she doesn’t say anything to Ted just yet.

It’s only later when she goes back to her hotel room and Henry is asleep that she thinks to look the journalist up.

Naturally, the first thing she finds is a clip of him calling Ted a fucking joke on live TV.

Fuck.

“Ted,” she says, in an abrupt phone call too late in the night to be polite. “I might have messed up.”

“What?” Ted says immediately, a little panicked, “What happened, do you need me to—” there’s shuffling noises like he’s throwing himself out of bed to get dressed, and she says quickly, “no no no, just.”

He pauses, ready to listen, and she says, “I. I’m sorry, I mentioned our divorce to a reporter.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“You… what?” Ted says, not sounding mad so much as baffled.

“I just—it just slipped out, I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “I know you’re under a lot more media scrutiny here, but he said it was off the record but that was after I said something and I—”

“Michelle, Michelle,” he said, “Hey. Hey, it’s alright, if it’s gonna be a big deal, they’re gonna find out anyway. Don’t you worry about a thing, alright?”

“I looked him up, though,” Michelle says, more distressed than she’d like to be, “He called you a fucking joke, if he already doesn’t li—”

To her surprise, Ted… laughs. Brightly, the genuine one and not the cheerful I’m-pretending-everything’s-fine one she’d grown to hate.

“Oh,” he says, and there’s a release of tension she hadn’t even realized was in his voice. “You talked to Trent.”

“You—what am I saying, of course you know him,” Michelle said.

“Trent’s fine,” said Ted, with a sort of cheerful finality. “If he said it was off the record, it’s off the record.”

“He literally called you a joke,” said Michelle, unimpressed. “On television. Oh, I shoulda given him a piece of my mind—”

Because while she wanted to divorce Ted for a reason, goddamn it, no one who called him a fucking joke on live TV was in her good books.

“He didn’t know me yet,” Ted said, like it was that easy, and she wondered if he was being too forgiving for his own good, like he always was. Sometimes it felt like he never stood up for himself at all, just let people hurt him. It could be exhausting.

“Here,” Ted said, “look up his first article on me. No, hang on, I’ll just send it to ya, it’s short.”

Sure enough, she fumbles to open her messages and Ted’s just sent her a link with a little smiley face. Once it might have made her smile. Now she just sighs and clicks the link.

It doesn’t take long to scan through the article; to reach the last line.

“Hm,” she says. “Not exactly glowing.”

“That,” Ted says, “from Trent, as far as I can tell, is about the same as Beard nodding his head.”

“Oh, wow,” she says, suitably impressed.

“Anyhoo,” he says, “I trust Trent to keep his word. If he said he wouldn’t say anything, he won’t.”

There’s something about how he says it, about that laugh he’d given when he’d realized, that makes her stop. This doesn’t feel like his usual—she’s pretty sure Ted at the very least actually likes this guy, which, well. despite Ted’s flaws, he isn’t actually stupid. And he’s a good judge of character.

“…alright,” she says. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“Hey, you can call me anytime,” he says, a little too sincerely, and something in her chest feels tight. We aren’t married anymore, part of her wants to snap, to remind him sharply, but she knows that isn’t fair, and she knows he’s well aware.

So she just sighs, and says, “Goodnight, Ted.”

And he says, “Goodnight. I—goodnight.”

And then the call ends, and she’s left staring at the ceiling.

It’s too painful to think about the divorce, about Ted, about what she’s going to do now, so instead, she lets her thoughts turn back to Trent Crimm.

Trent Crimm, who’d called her then-husband a fucking joke on TV, made the entire room laugh at him. Trent Crimm, who’d smiled awkwardly at her and said not to worry about it, that he understood how divorce could be. Trent Crimm who Ted apparently liked for real.

What a character. She’d have to keep an eye out.

(Years later, Trent Crimm will write an entire book about her ex-husband, and she’ll purse her lips and think ah. And then she’ll meet the man himself again, wide-eyed and blushing and very much in his pajamas—pulling a robe defensively over his bare chest—in Ted’s kitchen, and she’ll think, ahh.)

#trent crimm #michelle lasso #tedependent #my writing #snippet

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masterqwertster · 1 year

Note

For the Spell ask, Modify Memory for Ashton and Orym?

This ask

Modify Memory

You attempt to reshape another creature’s memories. One creature that you can see must make a Wisdom saving throw. If you are fighting the creature, it has advantage on the saving throw. On a failed save, the target becomes charmed by you for the duration. The charmed target is incapacitated and unaware of its surroundings, though it can still hear you. If it takes any damage or is targeted by another spell, this spell ends, and none of the target’s memories are modified.

While this charm lasts, you can affect the target’s memory of an event that it experienced within the last 24 hours and that lasted no more than 10 minutes. You can permanently eliminate all memory of the event, allow the target to recall the event with perfect clarity and exacting detail, change its memory of the details of the event, or create a memory of some other event.

You must speak to the target to describe how its memories are affected, and it must be able to understand your language for the modified memories to take root. Its mind fills in any gaps in the details of your description. If the spell ends before you have finished describing the modified memories, the creature’s memory isn’t altered. Otherwise, the modified memories take hold when the spell ends.

A modified memory doesn’t necessarily affect how a creature behaves, particularly if the memory contradicts the creature’s natural inclinations, alignment, or beliefs. An illogical modified memory, such as implanting a memory of how much the creature enjoyed dousing itself in acid, is dismissed, perhaps as a bad dream. The DM might deem a modified memory too nonsensical to affect a creature in a significant manner.

A Remove Curse or Greater Restoration spell cast on the target restores the creature’s true memory.

Orym doesn't like letting Ashton go off, alone, with the recently found Nobodies. He doesn't like the way they eye Ashton up, measuring the genasi's combat readiness, their magical equipment.

Ashton has never hidden that there was a certain practicality to his old crew, had claimed the same of himself (and maybe it was true, once upon a time, but it's certainly not the person Orym knows these days), but that business-like evaluation raises Orym's hackles.

When Ashton comes back down into the tavern proper after that talk in one of the Nobodies' rooms, there's an unexpected, almost eerie, sense of calm to him. He easily threads his way through the crowd to the table Bells Hells is gathered around and, after taunting to withhold what happened at the group's immediate prodding, explains in a soft, amazed voice that the Nobodies hadn't meant to leave him like that, that they were sorry. It's a list of all the things Ashton had ever wanted to hear to ease the tragedy of his fall and subsequent abandonment.

And Orym can't believe it's true.

Not when he spots the Nobodies in the stairwell, assessing the Hells' table with just the slightest hint of smug or worry, depending on the individual.

Orym's not a big magic guy, just a little wind and growing flowers are all he's gifted with. But, he's heard a lot of stories from and about people who are. There's magic out there to mess with people's minds. His friends do it sometimes. Thankfully, there's magic to reverse such things as well.

It's not easy, but Orym does manage to grab FCG's attention and quietly convey his concerns to the cleric. He feels bad about distressing them when they've been so happy for Ashton, but Bells Hells' barbarian deserves the truth.

There's no satisfaction in watching Ashton stiffen, their hand held between Fresh Cut Grass's hands, eye's narrowing as they lock on to the Nobodies carousing with the Hells. The lights in the glass burst dangerously with the emotions growing inside the genasi barbarian.

"What the fuck did you do?" Ashton growls out, voice deep and rumbling as Orym's ever heard it.

The Nobodies pale and pull back, dismay and fear plain on their faces. Bells Hells tightens up, preparing to either attack alongside their friend or attempt to hold back what promises to be a spectacular explosion of fury.

___

"I'm sorry that didn't go well," Orym quietly apologizes once Bells Hells is retired for the night.

"Don't be," Ashton rumbles into the quiet. "I'm glad you figured their game out. It would have fucking sucked to think I could trust them because they planted some fake memory in my head of the perfect apology, only to find out all over again that I can't."

"You know you can trust us, right?" Orym can't help but ask.

Ashton snorts as a smile curves their lips. "Yeah. It seems like I can."

The scary thing about Modify Memory is the "its mind fills in any gaps in the details of your description", so if you want to absolutely convince someone of doing something with/for you within a ten minute window, you can. They will provide the rhetoric that convinces them to help you because they're tailoring it for themself. Lucky for Ashton here, Orym is the little god of Perception, and FCG is always willing to help.

#MQ&A #critical role #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #bells hells #MQfic #spell hurt/comfort prompt

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no-damsel · 1 year

Text

Just friends

Warning - Swearing

Chapter one

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The music was so loud that it was almost impossible to hear the conversation that was taking place right in front of you. Walking further into the room, you rub the bottom of your nose with the back of your hand and sniff loudly before sitting on the club owner's lap. His hand immediately moved to your waist, making you uncomfortable, but you bite your tongue and pretend to enjoy the attention Jasper gives you.

“Who’s this?” You ask, pointing to the two men sitting across from him.

Jasper takes a drink of his whisky. “This is Tommy and Gregg,” he says slowly, as if you’d need a moment to follow what he’s saying. “They are going to be working here on a trial basis.”

“Cool.” You lazily rest your head on Jasper's shoulder while they continue to talk business.

Both men would be rotated between working behind the bar and working security. Occasionally, you’d wipe your nose with the back of your hand or twitch your jaw. Each time you did, ‘Gregg’ would shoot you a death glare; you couldn’t blame him. He probably thought you were a drugged-up mess, which is exactly what you wanted people to believe. You recognized the man going by the name of Tommy as the sweet kid who lived down the street from you growing up, Adam Ruzek.

“I’m sorry,” ‘Tommy’ says, interrupting. “But you’ve got to introduce us to this pretty lady here.”

Adams' brown eyes bore into yours as he searched for any sign of distress. You hadn’t seen him in so long that he must have been shocked to see you sitting on one of the most despised men in Chicago. The fact that you look strung out and hardly dressed probably didn’t help.

“Where are my manners?” Jasper says, slapping you on the thigh and laughing. “This is Angel; she’s one of our dancers and my personal favorite. High as hell, but she takes great care of my books.”

How Jasper wasn’t busted before was a mystery; he would mix different pills and alcohol and start blabbering to anyone who would listen. He had just met these guys and already told them who had done his books.

The man sitting with Adam scoffs, “Angel, huh? How original.”

You met his glare. He was handsome. Hispanic and looked to be around the mid-thirties. Given that Adam hadn’t been a cop for long, you’d assume this guy had a fair amount of experience being undercover. You lean forward and run your finger over ‘Tommy’s’ jawline before pinching his cheek. “I like him; he’s cute. He reminds me of a chipmunk.”

Adam gives you a sweet smile before acting flattered by your comment, “Well, thank you, sweetheart.”

Jasper wraps his arm around you a little too tight, a silent way of telling you to shut up. “Excuse her; Angel likes to party a little too much on shift and comes away with some weird shit; just ignore her.”

“Oh, I imagine that’s not possible.”

Jasper smirks. “Since you’ve taken a liking to them, you can show them around.”

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After showing the club’s newest ‘employees’ the lockup routing, you lead them down the hallway towards the dressing room. The halls were mainly empty since it was still daytime, but in a few hours they would be mobbed by dancers starting to get ready for the nighttime shows.

“So, Angel, how long have you worked here?”

“A couple of years,” you answer before opening the door to a small room that the staff uniforms were kept in. You close the door behind you and look between them. “So, chipmunk, is your friend here good?”

Adam chuckles. “He’s good.”

You both knew the question you were really asking, and that was if the person could be trusted.

You give them both uniforms, scribble down a message, and place it between the tops you hand to Adam. You hand it to him just as Jasper walks into the room.

You wink at Adam and say, “I’ll see you later, handsome.”

Jasper frowns and runs his hand through his blonde hair, and you hear him say, “House rules: no getting high off my shit and no fucking on shift. If you see anyone who isn’t one of my men, tell me right away. And if you do bang any of these bitches, I don’t want it to bring any drama into my house, right?”

They answer in unison, “right.”

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A few days pass before you see Adam again, along with the other cop, when you finish your shift at six in the morning. They had been working behind the bar while you jumped between greeting ‘guests’ at the door and convincing the men sitting at booths to buy overpriced bottles of alcohol.

“Yo, Angel!”

“Tommy,” you smile before rubbing at your eyes, which are heavy and over-coated in massacre. “How are you enjoying your new gig?”

He looks more uncomfortable the closer he gets to you, and he does his best to avert his eyes from the sheer red outfit you were wearing. He clears his throat. “I was just going to grab some breakfast; care to join me?”

“Sure, I’ll just get changed, then meet you outside.”

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“Your partner seems intense,” you say in between bites of your breakfast. Pancakes loaded with cut-up strawberries, bananas, and chocolate sauce. You’d need the sudden sugar rush to help you stay up a little bit longer.

“Antonio is wary of strangers, but he’s a good guy.” Adam chuckles, “I see you still have a sweet tooth.”

“I don’t indulge much these days. Jasper likes his dancers to look a certain way, you know.”

“Yeah, like trash. Calling me my nickname from when we were kids was a good call. I gotta say you had me really worried when I first saw you; I actually thought you had gone down that path.” He sips on his coffee. “You're not taking anything, right?”

“Absolutely not!” you say defensively. “I’m just good at making it believable.”

“Viola…”

You kick him under the table for using your real name in public.

“Sorry, sorry.”

You had to give two years of your life to this undercover assignment. You had gone on a strict diet, dyed your hair with cheap dye, then let the roots grow out, and invested a lot of money into tacky clothes and cheap makeup to play the part. In-between bites, you ask, “So you're going to tell me why you're in that hellhole?”

He leans in and talks in a low voice, “In the past two weeks, there have been thirteen overdoses because of bad dope that’s been sold by Jasper’s people.”

“Jasper isn’t the boss; a man named Hector Vazquez is calling the shots. This case… It’s icky; there’s more to it than just dope. I’m not going to lie—I’m actually glad you're there, because I’m drowning.”

“Can’t you speak to your sergeant?”

“No,” you answered sharply. “Sorry, it’s just that you're the only person I’ve said that to. I’m… The stuff I’ve found out has made me seriously consider just leaving and starting over.”

Seeing the worry on your face, he places his hand on yours. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been looking at one-way plane tickets,” you admit. “I just... I don't know who to trust anymore. You're the first person I’ve spoken to in a long time who even knows my real name.”

Adam scratches his chin with his free hand before smiling politely at the waitress when she tops off his coffee. “I know someone who can help, but you’ve got to trust me. Completely.”

“Who is it?”

“My boss, Hank Voight.”

#chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago PD #antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson #antonio dawson x you #slow burn #adam ruzek #chicago pd x reader #Chicago PD fandom #Chicago PD fanfic #Antonio Dawson fanfiction

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safetycar-restart · 1 year

Note

i have been incredibly sick the past few days, but i’m back and ready to give a small thought on aftercare 🫶 (i’m also going to mourn kinktober for the next few weeks 🥲)

ANYWAY, aftercare with charles my love ✨

on the days where you don’t make it to the bed, because he’s too busy whining and trying to get fucked (so the couch is the next best option), i feel like getting charles to go to the bed would be unwise, because he needs a lot is support after he’s finished.

so instead, you improvise? give him all of his kisses and praise, telling him that he’s been a good boy, and did so well, before grabbing a blanket to share, helping to get him comfy, putting on whatever random movie is on tv, and then cuddling with him?

sometimes you’ll even feed him snacks and things if he’s hungry, but he has to be hand fed because he’s too tired to do it himself, and he loves being cared for and pampered? literally a dream.

( i said this was going to be short but i think i kinda lied )

ANYWAY I HOPE UR EXAM WENT WELL 🫶

- 🌱

This is an old kinktober ask but it’s so fucking good and I’ve decided that fuck it, I’m gonna answer some of my old kinktober asks sometimes because they’re too good to waste.

I love the idea that sometimes Charles is genuinely too worked up to even get to the bed. Cause sure, you could probably grab his hand and drag him to the bed and he would end up there, but he’d be so upset and scared?

Because when Charles throws himself at you to be looked after, his guard is completely down. He wants you and just you and it’s so scary and disorienting to be suddenly dragged to a different room.

So no. No no no.

Sometimes you must simply make due right where you are because moving him will only cause your sweet little boy distress and that’s something you refuse to do.

And then yeah, the bed isn’t a good option for immediate aftercare either for the same reasons. You can’t move him after you’ve wrecked him. Not only because the poor thing literally can’t walk, because he’s so vulnerable and subby and he would be so scared if he suddenly had to move or felt that he was being moved.

He just wants to curl up in your chest for kisses and cuddles and praise until he stops feeling like his heart has been sunburned and then he’ll be ready to move.

And putting a random movie on tv is great!! Because then Charles knows for certain that you won’t move for a while and he can really allow himself to rest. And okay yeah he doesn’t actually watch the movie and honestly neither do you, but that’s not important.

By the way, of course he must be hand fed! For two reasons actually. Firstly, he honestly doesn’t have the coordination to do it himself after a scene, he’ll make a massive mess and then get so upset because he thinks he’s bad. And second, he’s your good boy!! He just submitted to beautifully for you and held absolutely nothing back and now he deserved to be spoilt and pampered.

Also, I want to add one thought of my own:

Cuddling in the sun outside for aftercare? Like you rent a little private villa somewhere with a garden for a weekend and then you scene with Charles in the living room. Afterwards, instead of laying him out on the couch, you lay him down the grass? And he gets to feel the sun on his skin and the fresh hair on his face and he can cuddle you at the same time and he’s truly in heaven.

#sub!charles #cl #nsfw.#gn!reader #🌱

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kiruuuuu · 1 year

Text

Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 15✨

Day 7, 11 and 13 were all about the Great Rainbow Bake Off, and this part continues the series! Today features Bandit's, uh, preparations. (Rating G, fluff?, ~1k words)

.

During the span of no more than five minutes, Blitz witnesses the following sights:

Kapkan walking by while drawing invisible lines in the air, visibly distressed and with his tongue between his teeth in concentration.

Dokkaebi, looking ready to strangle Lesion, yelling at him loud enough it reverberates off the walls: “Sugar is sugar! There is no wrong kind!”

Sledge sitting in a corner with his head in his hands, muttering feverishly: “What do people like? What do they like??”

“I wonder if Manu regrets suggesting the contest already”, Blitz turns to his best friend who doesn’t seem at all concerned with the competition, instead opting to doze in the lounge as usual.

“Don’t think so”, Bandit replies with a yawn, keeping his eyes closed. “Have you noticed how many more people are able to try her cookies these days? It’s raining compliments for her, instead of these gluttons devouring everything she produces in seconds.”

Blitz frowns. “You realise you’re usually one of those gluttons?”

“Eh. I’m on my redemption arc right now.”

Cryptic answer, but alright. Something else occurs to him: “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing as well? I mean, I’m glad you’re not possessed like the others, but -”

In the distance, Dokkaebi screams: “It’s the same fucking thing!”

Yeah. Blitz doesn’t even want to imagine his teammate going to similar lengths to win – Bandit’s competitive streak is a mean thing once it gets out, surfacing not just in an obsessive way but also bringing out the absolute worst in him regarding cheating. He knows he doesn’t need it and even then he tries to find loopholes everywhere, unfairly disadvantages his rivals, attempts to mess with them where he can. Blitz much prefers him napping on the sofa to burning bridges.

“There’s still time”, is Bandit’s laconic reply.

“Isn’t it in two days?” Silence. Blitz’ frown deepens. “Have you ever baked anything in your life?”

“Of course. I’ve been baked many times.”

Blitz resists rolling his eyes, but only barely. “Dom.”

“I mean, I’ve baked pizzas, croissants, pies…”

“Dom. Anything not frozen.”

“I once put a tangerine in the oven because my girlfriend at the time said it’d make my flat smell less of man-who-lives-alone. Well, I forgot about it and let me tell you, burnt citrus is a lingering odour not easily removed.”

Yikes. He crinkles his nose in sympathetic disgust. “So… I’ll take that as a no. Are you going to wing it? Half-ass it? Manu doesn’t deserve a lukewarm attempt and you know that. Part of this exercise is about you lot understanding and appreciating how difficult it is to produce tasty biscuits all the time.”

“Oh, I understand. That’s why I’m not dumb enough to try.”

“You’re dumb enough to try anything”, someone else butts in out of the blue, flashing Blitz his wide, trademark grin. Ace has materialised out of nowhere, seemingly shrouded in Christmas cheer and glitter with how festive his clothes are, his sweater a hideous mix of tartan, polka dots and paisley. No, wait, this is actual glitter raining off him. Blitz vaguely recalls a brief panic spreading through Rainbow when Kali was overheard mentioning a bomb, but this explains it perfectly.

“Not dumb enough to try you”, Bandit shoots back and Blitz feels nausea rise in him at the way his best friend looks at Nighthaven’s golden boy. To everyone else, it might come across as contempt, but after about a decade, Blitz knows what utter devotion looks like on Bandit’s face. And, unfortunately, this is it. “What happened, did you put a unicorn through the shredder for one of your videos?”

“No, I decided to cosplay Tinkerbell today, seeing as some of you could do with a little more magic and joy in your life.”

“And just like Tinkerbell, you also wither and die whenever nobody pays attention to you.”

“I thought about cosplaying you, but I couldn’t fit seven dicks in my mouth.”

Bandit actually laughs at that. He must’ve lost his mind, Blitz really has no idea what he sees in the Norwegian influencer though it’s so painfully obvious he’s smitten with him. Odd that he wouldn’t do his best to impress him and prepare properly for the Bake Off.

“Your lunch is in the fridge”, Bandit informs the other man who visibly lights up at his words.

“You’re a godsend. By the way, I’m going to give you shit for years if you don’t show some effort for the Bake Off, remember that.”

And as Ace glitters away, Blitz can’t help but shout after him: “You realise he actually likes you, right?”

The only answer he gets is a disbelieving scoff and a dismissive as if. Curses. Blitz’ hope was that they finally start dating just so he doesn’t have to bear witness to their increasingly awkward courtship. Which seems to involve a whole lot of insults.

He turns to Bandit. “You buy him lunch now?”

“We buy each other lunch. My turn today.”

“I don’t know why he thinks even for a second that you don’t have the worst crush on him I’ve ever seen.”

Bandit shows his own grin now, decidedly more toothy and scarier than Ace’s. “And I don’t know why you think even for a second that I don’t have the perfect plan.”

Well. Blitz hopes that plan involves getting glitter out of all the clothes he owns.

.

It turns out Bandit’s plan involves turning up at his door that evening, carrying a bunch of ingredients, a variety of baking utensils, a laptop and a small dictionary for translating between Norwegian and English.

“Hi”, he greets Blitz with a smile. “My oven broke. Can I use your kitchen while I zoom Ace’s mum?”

And though Blitz didn’t know what he expected, it certainly wasn’t this.

#rainbow six siege #fanfic #grbo #great rainbow bake off #kac #bandit #blitz #ace #bandit/ace #some at least #why expend a lot of effort when few effort do trick #I feel for you blitz I really do #but you chose to be friends with this man

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winderlylandchime · 6 months

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1/2 hello, Im back with s5 updates and you guys, I completely forgot what happens in it. The man and I are both in distress now.

Just so you know: he hit play and sat down and just let out a big ‘ughhhhhhhh’ sound. It’s like he’s getting ready for a battle.

‘Okay, let’s fucking go! Brian and Justin living together! Brian being in love! Let’s go! I am okay and not at all stressed’ the ep starts with the babylon mikey/brian scene. ‘Where’s Justin? Why is Mike having a life crisis? (Mikey mentions the surprise trip) reunited? FLYING TO LA?! *pauses tv* EXCUSE ME? When the fuck did that happen? Did i miss an episode?’ The britin phone call happens ‘SO HES JUST IN LA? At an orgy? Nice but what the fuck?! STAY LONGER?! THREE MONTHS?! How long has he been there?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! I DIDNT SIGN UP FOR THIS! Brian looks hurt! (Brian mentions that hed be pissed if justin didnt go to la) OH SO YOURE THE ONE TO BLAME FOR RUINING MY HAPPINESS? Ohhhh he’s gonna come soon Blondie!! He has a trip planned! Brian what? He said he missed you!’ The scene then goes to JR ‘oh that’s just messed up! You show me Brian and Justin and that one just got head! And a room full of dicks and then surprise BABY! That’s messed up. Gus is watching her like he’s planning to throw her out the window.’ ‘Oh shit so mel and lindsay don’t live together? So theyre lying and playing games? Who thought thatd be a smart idea?’ ‘CARL AND DEBBIE MOVED OUT TOO?! DOES ANYBODY STILL LIVE WHERE THEY DID?’ *deb and carl walk in on Em* ‘FINALLY SOMEONE IS ACTING NORMAL’ ‘BRIAN FINALLY! You have no idea how much I missed you. Let’s go to LA to Blondie!’ And now we are meeting Mikey and Ben’s friends ‘wait that was it on Brian? BRING HIM BACK! Who are they? *looks at me* im sorry. I don’t want to sound like a dick. But Jenny Rebecca sounds so dumb, it doesn’t have a flow. *lets out a big sigh* you have no idea how long I’ve been keeping that in. Anyway who are they? Since when the fuck does Liberty Avenue bother Ben? Their neighborhood sounded boring compared to this. Why is everyone moving?!’ Brian mentions he’s not going to LA ‘what the hell?! what’s going on right now? What is this bullshit?! THIS IS STUPID’ now it’s showing Justin in LA ‘blondie! GO HOME! What the hell is going on? (Keller shows up) GO TO HELL! This is somehow your fault! (And connor shows up for Rage) OH COME ON! NO I TOLD YOU HES GONNA BE A PROBLEM! What the fuck is happening! This is not what I imagined’ Mikey mentions he’s throwing them a party ‘no. No. Nooooooooo! Why is he this stupid? (Ben keeps making references about the apartment) my god, he’s annoying. When did he turn into a middle aged white woman?’ ‘BRIAN! Finally! My baby is a success! *makes that pfft noise* HA imagine Brian owning a house in the country. Lameeee! (Brian sees a motorcycle) YES I SUPPORT THIS BUSINESS INVESTMENT!‘ Brian says Justin isn’t coming back *hand on his chest* ‘HUH? Yes, we are both listening! Explain your failed logic to me, Brian! Three? Six? HOW MANY MONTHS HAS HE BEEN THERE WITH NO VISITS? (It shows Justin and Connot having sex) WHAT IS THIS SHIT?! WHY WOULD THEY SHOW ME THAT? FUCK THAT CONNOR DUDE! WHAT IS HAPPENING?? HE HAS TO COME BACK! I knew LA is gonna be a shit show! NO WHAT DO YOU MEAN TIME TO GO ON WITH YOUR LIFE? You FUCKING ASKED HIM TO MOVE IN?! *looks at me all sad* what?’ And we are at Mel and Linds surprise party ‘oh Mike. Dude why are you so fucking obsessed with her 10th anniversary? Has he ever minded his own business with other peoples relationships? (Everyone jumps out) i would kill him. Even if they did want to celebrate it, why would they do it with bunch of people?’ Ben says that line about how now more than ever it’s important people know that gay couples can be committed ‘oh my god. I would go on a murder spree if he said that to me. Why do you as a grown man need two lesbians to help you feel confident in your relationship? Can he be written off?’ Linds wants to tell everyone and Mikey asks “the right time for what” ‘for you to mind your business. It was about 4 seasons ago’

Hello dear sweet anon!

I remember far less about season 5 than any other season for obvious reasons (I haven’t watched it as often).

But yes Brian saying he would be pissed if Justin didn’t go to LA is… well it’s foreshadowing isn’t it? Always put career first, that’s the Brian Kinney motto.

Ahh Boring Ben and Mikey moving to the boring ‘burbs. Your brother is going to have so much fun with this. He’s going to lovvvvveeeee Eli and Monty. (/s)

When did Ben turn into a middle aged white woman? Good question. Followed up with the “it’s important for people to know that gay couples can be committed” FFS. Assimilationist.

Brian buying Babylon is so iconic. He should have always owned it.

#dear winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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acacia-luna-royal · 2 years

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I don’t think anyone is ready for this, because I know I’m definitely fucking not, but there’s a chance we’ll get something really close to this picture in Episode 8:

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THEY’RE WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! WE MIGHT GET TO SEE THAT HUG ON SATURDAY SOMEONE HOLD ME PLEASE!!!!😭😭♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

#KinnPorsche #Kinn x Porsche #KinnPorsche the Series #KinnPorsche the Series La Forté #Kinn #Porsche #MileApo #I’m crying thinking about it #This Fucking Mess in Distress isn’t ready for this wholesomeness!!!#I love them so much!!#BL Series #Boy Love

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

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am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

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It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

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MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

__

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

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MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

__

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

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MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

__

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

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#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

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jackalopesao3 · 3 years

Text

Obey Me Cast Receiving Oral HCs

Super NSFW

⛔️ Minors do not read/interact ⛔️

⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️

I don't even like giving blowjobs but here we are 🤷‍♀️ I have no idea why I felt the need to write this. I'm such a hoe for these fictional demons, a fictional angel, and a fictional sorcerer. Please put me out of my misery.

Characters: The Brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon

Lucifer

💙 Likes to be in control when receiving so you will be on your knees.

💙 Sometimes he will stand and other times he will sit at his desk chair.

💙 Likes to keep a hand on your head to control your movements.

💙 Sometimes he'll just hold your head still with both hands and fuck your face.

💙 Typically doesn't get naked for them and just unzips his trousers.

💙 Lucifer isn't very expressive when receiving and stays pretty composed. He'll either just stare at whatever is in front of him or look down at you to make sure you're servicing him properly.

💙 Loves the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock and deepthroating him.

💙 When he gets to close to release, a very faint blush will spread across his cheeks and his mouth will open just slightly in a silent pant.

💙 He lets out one breathy moan when he cums and his eyes close.

💙 Will praise you for your efforts and stroke your head as he comes down from his high.

Mammon

💛 Is a blushing mess when he's receiving.

💛 "Of course you want to pleasure the Great Mammon."

💛 Prefers you on the bed with him while he's on his back, he can hide his facial expressions better this way.

💛 He gets hot easily so his clothes always end up in a pile on the floor.

💛 Is very sensitive. Has come from just you licking and teasing underneath his head.

💛 He is a whiny, needy, drooling mess. He just looks so adorable when his breaths puff out from his reddened face.

💛 Will also keen and bite his pillow as he nears release.

💛 You may have to hold his hips still as he will start bucking his hips uncontrollably. He just gets so into it.

💛 Slip a finger into his ass and curl it while you deepthroat him and Mammon.EXE will stop working.

💛 Gets really clingy after he fills your mouth with his seed. He is super affectionate and thanks you for pleasing him.

Leviathan

🧡 Is also a blushing mess when receiving. No matter how long you've been in a relationship, he is still a shy boy at heart.

🧡 Leviathan is loud. You have to be careful when his brothers are home due to the volume of his moans.

🧡 Will totally let you go down on him while he's gaming. Has forgotten to mute his mic before though so best to remind him lest his teammates hear all those lewd noises he makes from your ministrations.

🧡 Will give you shy little praises as you suck him off. "Y/N...s-so good...aah!"

🧡 He can go either way with keeping his clothes on. If he's not gaming while you're doing it, he likes when you take your time with him and strip him of his clothes.

🧡 Despite thinking of himself as a, "yucky otaku", when you kiss down his body and praise him it makes his heart soar.

🧡 He is very sensitive, almost as much as Mammon. He will tear up from the pleasure.

🧡 He loves when you cosplay as his favorite characters during the act.

🧡 Play with his balls gently while bobbing your head up and down on his length and he will lose it.

🧡 When he gets close to climax his toes curl and he bites his lip.

🧡 Afterwards he likes to pull you close and kiss all over your face while repeatedly whispering "I love you," to you again and again.

Satan

💚 Prefers to be in control when you're going down on him and much like Lucifer, you will find yourself on your knees.

💚 Likes to be seated in a chair, clothed or unclothed it depends on his mood.

💚 If he's feeling particularly randy that day, he will collar and leash you, holding your leash as he looks down at you working so hard to please him.

💚 He loves watching your head bob up and down on his cock but he also enjoys holding your head still and fucking your face.

💚 If he has any precum on his head before you start, he will tell you to lick it off, watching intently as your tongue laps up each little bead.

💚 Will growl things like, "Right there, kitten! Don't stop!" when he's getting close. He growls in arousal, doesn't moan.

💚 Despite his almost feral growling as you bring him to the edge, he remains in control. Will keep his dick perfectly still as he empties his seed down your throat, you can feel his member throbbing against your tongue as he releases.

💚 Likes to pull you on his lap afterwards and praise you for a job well done.

Asmodeus

💗 Asmodeus loves a good blowjob, anytime and any place really.

💗 "Such a naughty little minx, aren't you, Y/N?" He'll tease you if you do it somewhere you could get caught.

💗 When the two of you are alone, he prefers that you both are naked so you can enjoy each other's bodies in all their glory.

💗 Please worship his cock and tell him how amazing it is - kiss along its length and rub his balls.

💗 He likes when you start with his tip, sucking on it softly and slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth.

💗 Is very vocal, calling out your name while he moans in ecstasy.

💗 If you're okay with it, he will take pictures of you with your lips wrapped around his cock or your tongue licking up his shaft.

💗 Kiss and suck along the underside of his member to watch him lose his mind.

💗 His moans get louder and louder as he reaches climax and he will stroke your hair as he cums, cupping your cheek as he watches you drink every last drop.

💗 He is also very cuddly and loving afterwards and will snuggle into your side.

Beelzebub

❤️ Will suggest doing a 69 with you - he loves to give and the vibrations from the moans you make around his cock.

❤️ Beel gets hot easily, so he prefers being naked when receiving.

❤️ Does get worried about you choking on his massive length and girth of his package.

❤️ Seeing your cheeks stuffed full of everything he has to offer is a big turn on though.

❤️ Despite not having control with things like food, Beelzebub is a very gentle lover and good at controlling his reactions. He's very aware of his size and strength.

❤️ He's vocal, letting out low moans and guttural growls as you work him towards release.

❤️ Insists on making you as comfortable as possible so isn't picky on what position the two of you are in.

❤️ Loves when you suck on his balls and tease them.

❤️ Will warn you when he's about to release as he typically cums a lot more than the average demon.

❤️ He will moan your name as he empties himself down your throat and thank you afterwards.

❤️ Definitely cuddles afterwards and will want to return the favor as soon as you're ready.

Belphegor

💜 Will be a pillow prince on days he's feeling particularly in tune with his sin.

💜 Just lays on the bed as you suck him off, eyes closed and letting out soft moans.

💜 Gets incredibly aroused if you tease him and will beg for release if he's in more of a sub mood that day.

💜 On other days he likes you on your back while he straddles you.

💜 Will fuck your face as you lay on the bed, in complete control of your body as he thrusts in and out of your mouth.

💜 Likes both of you to be naked when he's on top like that.

💜 Belphie has just a slight sadistic streak in the bedroom and gets turned on when you're all but choking around him.

💜 He will never hurt you though and if you show any sign of distress, he stops immediately.

💜 For either position, his tail will come out and wrap around you affectionately.

💜 When he's on his back, he whispers your name as he releases his seed into your mouth. If he's on top, he lets out a growl as he fills your throat with his cum.

💜 Is always up for cuddling after. Gets really sleepy after orgasm. Likes to nuzzle into your neck and shoulder while his arms, legs, and tail wrap around you.

Diavolo

💙 I wholeheartedly agree with the majority of the fandom that Diavolo has a huge dick so he tries his very best not to buck his hips when you go down on him for fear of hurting you.

💙 He likes to sit on the edge of the bed while you kneel between his legs so he can watch you. Diavolo absolutely adores you and loves seeing you work your little mouth around his girth and length. He always has a comfy pillow for you to kneel on so you don't feel sore.

💙 If you can't kneel, that's okay. Dia is honestly quite happy with any position. He wants his lover to be as comfortable as possible.

💙 He let's out soft moans and whines. He's definitely touched starved so he gets really into it. Don't be surprised if he lets out a deep growl and fists your hair.

💙 He loves praising you while you suck him off. He will stroke your face and hair lovingly during gentle sessions.

💙 One of his favorite things is when you make eye contact with him and the two of you exchange a loving look. He loves when all your attention is focused on him. Sometimes he will take one of your hands and lace your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze when you lick a particularly sensitive spot.

💙 When Diavolo cums, he cums A LOT. He will warn you ahead of time and always gives you the option of swallowing. He will not be hurt in the least if you spit. He knows his load is a lot to handle.

💙 Diavolo likes to reciprocate and will happily go down on you afterwards if he hasn't already.

💙 He loves to cuddle and becomes slightly possessive post-orgasm and will hold you close to him.

Barbatos

💛 This man is not used to others doing things for him both in and out of the bedroom. He probably doesn't have a lot of time to relieve himself either as he's so busy.

💛 That being said, he prefers to sit or lay down on the bed when you go down on him. He wants to be completely relaxed so he can focus on the pleasure you're giving him.

💛 For some reason, I imagine him being slightly shy about it. You will have to ask/initiate. It's probably been a long time since he's had intimacy with anyone. Barbatos might even be a bit shy about it.

💛 He doesn't make much noise except for some small gasps when you swirl your tongue on his head just right. He may let out a few soft grunts and pants as well.

💛 Barb likes foreplay and when you take your time pleasing him. He wants to enjoy these rare moments of intimacy with you. Play with his nipples and gently bite his thighs when you're warming up. That will really get his blood pumping.

💛 He tends to stiffen up as he comes before letting out low moan and releasing all that tension. He really doesn't care if you spit or swallow. He is sure to praise you after.

Solomon

💗 Shady wizard is likely a horn dog and will let you suck him off just about anywhere. Sometimes he'll even pull his cloak around you and hide you in it while you do your thing to him.

💗 When you're alone he prefers to sit or stand so he can watch you. Will place a hand on your head and sometimes help you bob your head up and down on his length.

💗 Solomon isn't shy about telling you what he wants. He'll tell you when to suck and where to lick and will watch you as he gives you instruction.

💗 Sometimes he'll just hold your head still and fuck your face when he's feeling particularly dominant. He'll also talk dirty to you as he uses you and your mouth like a sex doll.

💗 He uses magic to soundproof the room if he wants to be loud. Definitely curses and grunts as he's getting close.

💗 If you don't want to swallow, he'll occasionally pull out and come on your face or chest. Will pat you on the head afterwards while teasing and also praising you.

Simeon

💚 Holy boy is still a horny boy at times but he is the most shy out of everyone. You will definitely have to ask and be the one to bring it up.

💚 Always makes sure the door is locked and that he has some kind of sound proofing spell up as he doesn't want anyone walking in.

💚 Even with a sound proofing spell, he's still rather quiet. Simeon will bite his wrist or muffle his cries into a pillow.

💚 Prefers to be on his back so you can't his flushed face and his blissful expression. He also wants you to be comfortable though so he will do another position if that's better for you.

💚 The underside of his shaft is pretty sensitive and he will buck his hips on reflex if you slowly trail your tongue from his balls to the underside of his head.

💚 The closer he gets to orgasm the less he cares about keeping quiet. Will moan and sigh your name as he fills your mouth with his seed.

💚 Is a little shy afterwards but also clingy. Simeon will hold you close but will blush when he makes eye contact with you.

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erwinsvow · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

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summary: zeke knows it’s wrong. you know it’s wrong. yet something always brings you back to your step-dad when your mom’s not around.

warnings: step-cest, manipulation, infidelity, mommy issues, zeke is the devil incarnate and reader is an angel (figuratively.. for now), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, creampie, you've been warned!

author's note: lord knows how long i've been thinking about this one. zeke fuckers, this one is for you. tagging @colossalnova ! hope everyone likes it!

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“It must be so nice to have such a good daughter to take care of you,” Mr. Ksaver comments without a second thought, as you head towards the kitchen to get two cups of coffee for Zeke and his friend. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile as soon as you hear the words, delighted with the praise from someone so close to your step-father.

Zeke makes an effort to hide the smirk that comes to him so naturally, because if only Mr. Ksaver knew just how good of a daughter you were for him. But that’s a conversation for another day, he finally decides, turning back to his guest with a smile.

“Step-daughter,” he corrects with the most genuine look he can muster. He could fool a priest with that aura of ingenuity that he gives off without any effort, because after all, that’s how he had gotten you into this position in the first place.

Mr. Ksaver beams back at him, his close friend still completely in the dark.

“Oh, of course, but you two could fool anyone. Say, where’s your wife? I haven’t seen her in a while..” Tom trails off, and Zeke is glad for it. He doesn’t like talking about your mother, his new wife, if he can help it. Business trips and commitments at the salon kept much of her time occupied, leaving only brief interactions with you two, her so-called family. It didn’t take long for him to realize she had been this way most of your life, an absent parental figure since the departure of your father. As cruel as it was, he could easily see why you were the way you were.

Zeke thought you were a lot of things. Pretty was at the top of the list, along with innocent and insecure, but the biggest quality he could see in you, the one that just screamed out at him ever since that first time he had laid eyes on you, was people-pleaser.

It was so apparent in everything you did, from the modest way you dressed to the try-hard behavior you exhibited with teachers and your friends’ parents. He recognized quickly it was because your mother didn’t acknowledge any of it, not the dinners you made for the three of you or the sweet, thoughtful gifts and flowers on special occasions.

It was actually on Mother’s Day the previous year when he had been able to get you alone for the first time. The then-new Mrs. Yeager had booked a full day at the spa as a treat for herself, even though she barely had an ounce of motherly qualities in her body. She had tossed aside the bouquet you had gifted her with, skimmed the card with your sweet, handwritten note, and rolled her eyes at your own watery ones after seeing just how little she cared about this holiday that was meant for you both to celebrate.

After she had left, Zeke had knocked on your door tentatively. It was wrong of him to be as gleeful as he was on the inside, but he’d been waiting for a moment like this for the last several months. He even let twenty minutes pass before coming up to your room to make sure he would get you teary-eyed and upset, just how he wanted.

Any other girl might have told her new step-father to fuck right off, given that he had done nothing to defend you or ask your mother to be kinder towards you, but not you. Ever the people-pleaser, you wiped away your tears with the sleeves of the cardigan you’d been wearing all day, fixed yourself from the position you had been in while weeping on your bed, and told him to come in.

Zeke was fucked the minute he saw you sitting there, dressed purely like an angel in a sundress that had ridden up in your distress and with tear-lidden eyelashes blinking slowly at him. The redness of your nose and cheeks, mixed with how your hair was just a little messed up and your hiccuping whimpers painted an entirely different picture for him. At first, it had just been a game, just to see how long it would take him to seduce his new wife’s daughter, but now it was something else altogether.

But it’s the first sentence you say to him, alone in the house without your wretched mother for the first time, that breaks him.

“S-Sorry Zeke. I didn’t want to eat after that, but I can go get everything ready again for you.” For him. Your mother’s cold behavior had you crying your eyes out before noon, and yet you were still concerned about the lunch you had prepared and if he wanted to eat.

It made his heart burn in a lecherous way, with thoughts in his head about why he hadn’t married you instead of her.

“That’s okay, honey, don’t worry about me. I came to check up on you.” He’s holding up the facade well, he thinks, closing the door gently behind him and hearing the click of the latch. He’s only been in your room a handful of times, and for most of those occasions, you hadn’t been there, so he couldn’t act too comfortable. His eyes roamed around the space, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume that lingered on every object and shoving his hands into his pockets to seem as unassuming as possible.

You wipe away a stray tear, blinking quickly and looking back at him with big eyes. Damn your eyes, honestly, because he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against them, especially when they’re so watery like that.

“Check up on me?” you let out in a soft voice. It’s adorable, honestly, how you think your new step-father would be just like your mother and not care about you at all. You’re not used to this kind of affection from anyone besides your friends from school, and even they don’t know about the reality of your home life. You don’t know what it’s like to have a parent check up on you, to have them want to make sure you’re okay, and suddenly you can feel your face burning with heat at the realization that you and Zeke are all alone in your bedroom.

Zeke is handsome according to anyone’s standards, but for some reason, you can never tear your eyes away from him when he doesn’t know you’re looking. He’s old enough to be your father—your real father, that is—but that doesn’t stop you. You always find yourself staring at his golden locks that shine especially bright when he’s in the sun after his daily run, when you’re watering your garden and your mother isn’t home from work yet. Or when he’s just left the shower and every part of his body is dripping wet, walking back to his bedroom and you catch a glimpse through your open door.

It’s easy to think of him as off-limits, though, since you would never hurt your mother like that. She doesn’t show you affection, or care about you like how your friends’ mothers care for them, but she’s still your mom. Nothing would ever justify betraying her like this, by having these illicit thoughts about your step-father. So you make sure you stop staring, avoid being alone with him as much as you can and create excuses to get out of spending time with him, but you don’t think any of that is really working.

Because now, with Zeke in your bedroom and the sleeves of your cardigan wet with far too many tears, you don’t really care if this is wrong. All you care about is how Zeke is inching closer to your bed with every step.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I wanted to make sure you were okay after all that. It’s not easy, I know,” he says in such a soothing tone that you feel yourself getting lost in the daze of it.

“You know?” you question again, wondering if Zeke could really relate to you. You had always felt like such an outcast, the poor girl nobody loved or wanted, without any love in her life at all.

“Uh-huh, I know. I really hate that your mother won’t treat you better, but you know her, she’s not gonna change,” he watches your nodding face and resigned expression. “Can I-?” he motions to the space next to you on the bed.

“Oh, sure, please,” you say quickly, moving yourself over a bit and making room for him, dress exposing even more of the soft skin of your legs now. He tries not to stare, and every part of him wants to put a hand on your thigh and stroke softly, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. Not yet. He’ll take his time.

“Thank you for saying that.” Your voice is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it.

“Of course. I mean, you are my daughter now, aren’t you?” He’s pushing his luck, but oh well. “I guess… it’s sort of my responsibility to take care of you, right?”

He sees your eyes widen a little, probably a million thoughts running through your little head. You’re so used to being alone, not having anyone’s affection, that a few simple words from Zeke have you fucked. Probably feeling the same way he is in this moment, eager and affectionate and ready. You find yourself nodding at his sweet words.

Any other day, you might have doubted the sincerity of what he was feeding you, but your mind was already a little fuzzy from the interaction with your mother. You still don’t know why you had gotten your hopes up so much, when it always led to disappointment in the end. You wish you could go back and warn yourself not to expect so much from your mother, who was almost as absent a parental figure as your father.

In that moment, Zeke’s kind words and welcoming arms didn’t seem so bad. You could only imagine that he felt the same way you did, as you doubted your mother was being a good wife to him from the interactions you observed.

“I…” you begin, but trail off when you notice the way Zeke’s eyes are looking at you. You almost instinctively lean back and away from him, like a lamb avoiding a predator, when you focus on how he’s much too close to you.

You’re entirely overwhelmed by his piercing, concerned gaze and the uncomfortable heat you feel between your thighs—your throat runs dry and you know it’s not from the crying. You think he must notice it too, with the way he leans forward, one more movement from him and you’d be trapped between Zeke’s broad figure and your bed.

He supposes that was the make-or-break moment in this little dalliance between you two. In that moment, had you been uncertain or asked him to leave, he would have listened to you and likely never bothered you again. All the same, he knew you wouldn’t.

You look back fondly on that Mother’s Day, the day you gave yourself over to Zeke without the slightest bit of regret. Your mother had returned home later that night, with nails and hair freshly done, acting as though there could have been no better way to spend Mother’s Day. She walked right past you sitting on the couch with Zeke, ignoring his tousled hair and your swollen lips.

Since then, it had been a fun sort of game. You felt guilty, of course, but nothing could compare to the thrill of the secret you had with Zeke, just for you two and no one else. He was more adventurous than you, always sneaking kisses and lingering touches when your mother was just a room away, fucking you roughly with a hand clasped over your mouth while she was on a conference call in her office down the hall.

Over time, you felt yourself becoming adventurous too. You had never done anything like this before, anything remotely bad or wrong, and it was safe to say that you were sinking further and further into the pit of corruption that Zeke had created.

Which is how you ended up here today.

You brought back two steaming cups of coffee on a platter to the living room, setting them down and mixing in cream and sugar for Zeke’s. You hand the cup to him with a sweet smile, and he takes a sip contentedly.

“Just perfect, like always.” The praise makes you smile widely, cheeks feeling warm despite the fact that you had a guest.

“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Ksaver?” you ask politely, as the elderly man laughs and takes the cup into his hand.

“Just plain black, thank you. I never had a taste for sweet things, like Zeke does.” If only he knew.

You smile again and bid goodbye, taking the tray with you as you leave and heading back to your room. You knew Zeke would be up as soon as he was done, since your mother was still out and you had precious time together, all alone.

As soon as you heard the front door close, and the sound of ignition starting from outside your window, you were alert. You could hear Zeke’s footsteps coming up the staircase, eagerly anticipating him this time.

He doesn’t knock anymore, letting himself in and closing the door gently behind him, as always. You hear the lock click quietly.

“Daddy,” you mumble from your place on your bed. You’re lying against the pillows now, fully on display for him in his favorite dress and already wet at the thought of what he would do to you once he got you alone.

“Yes, honey?” He says, in a tone that’s sincere and mocking at the same time. He’s still by the door, not coming in further like you want him to. He wants you to use your words.

“You said once we were alone..”

“Once we were alone, what? That I’d play with you?” You nod dumbly at his words. He inches closer to you, but still entirely too far away for your liking.

“I want you, Daddy. We only have a little bit before she gets back,” and you know you’re in for it now.

“Oh, is that so? We only have a little time?” Before you can process it, Zeke is hovering above you, a firm hand on your wetness teasing you and making you cry out at the sudden pressure. His hand moves slowly, just barely grazing your clothed clit and you whimper. “Let me tell you something, baby,” he whispers right next to your ear. “I’ll take as much time with you as I want, no matter who else is in this house. You got that?”

You let out a strangled moan at his words, knowing the effect they have on you and the uncomfortable wetness between your legs becoming even more prominent. You could swear that he can see how wet you are, even with your panties still on, and you desperately jerk up onto his hand to get some, any, contact.

“D-daddy, please! I-” you break off into another moan as he rubs your clit firmly. You’re not even sure when he took your panties off, but you can feel two of his fingers prodding at your slit, just waiting as he continues his work.

“Does that feel good, baby? Use your words,” he says, teasing you despite how badly you want him to stop and just be inside you already. Another strange feeling bubbles in your chest, knowing that your mother would be home soon and could be pulling into the driveway right now. You can hardly focus on those thoughts though, letting out a loud squeal when Zeke pushes two fingers into your soaking wetness, stopping at his knuckles.

“Oh god, Daddy, that feels so good, please, please keep going-” the rest of your words disappear as he pushes his thick fingers completely in, marveling at the way you’re so stretched out around them.

“Good girl, baby, you’re doing so well.” You keen at the praise, moaning loudly as he continues fingering you, scissoring his digits inside you and getting you prepared for his cock. He knows he’s on a time limit too, but he’ll be damned if he lets that rush him. No, he needs to take his time with you.

Every time he feels the tightness of your hole, it takes him back to that first time, and he refuses to hurry up.

His thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out quickly, filling the room with a lewd squelching noise, have you seeing stars before long. Every time Zeke touches you, you wonder how you went so long without it. Your own actions when you touch yourself are nothing compared to his anymore. He’s got you so dependent on him, so reliant that you barely want to cum by yourself anymore.

He slows his actions just for a second, just to pull down the front of your sundress and reveal your tits to him. Zeke increases his speed as he latches his mouth around your hardening nipple, flicking with his tongue and taking the pebbled bud between his teeth, tugging slightly and making you cry out as it suddenly becomes too much to handle.

You’re succumbing to the orgasm before you even know it, waves of pleasure washing over your body as the knot in your stomach finally releases and fills your core with heat.

“Good girl, baby, cum for Daddy now,” he says from his place on your chest.

“Daddy! Daddy, I-! Oh!” You know how pathetic you must sound, screaming and moaning helplessly as Zeke doesn’t let up on his actions. You finally put your hand on top of his and make him look up, into your eyes, and press his lips to yours.

A sloppy, hot kiss in the aftermath of your orgasm has you shaking under his grip, entire body feeling hot and sweaty. He pushes his fingers, slick with your wetness, to your lips and you open without any request for him, sucking and rolling your tongue over the digits until they’re all clean.

“Good girl,” he breathes into your neck, whether he places more sloppy kisses. “You ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

You nod meekly, moaning loudly as you feel Zeke align himself with your slit, and letting out a high-pitched squeal when he pushes himself into you entirely. You choke on your breath at the sudden feeling of fullness, completely ignoring the way Zeke’s focus seems to be on something else.

Perfect timing, he thinks to himself, hearing the car pull into the driveway and knowing his dear wife had arrived home. He was too deep inside of you to care, though.

Zeke pulled his hips back slowly, wanting you to feel every inch of him, and then slammed them down harshly. For every motion of his hips, you released a loud, obscene moan, babbling on without making any sense at all as Zeke fucked you.

All you could process were Zeke’s reassuring praises, calling you a good girl as he continued at a brutal pace, fucking you so hard you couldn’t figure out where you stopped and he began.

He picked up the pace and the angle of his cock stretched you out so perfectly, he was hitting against your clit with every thrust and you could swear you were seeing stars again, so close to the edge and screaming out for him, when he clasps a hand over your mouth quickly.

You reacted with a jolt, unsure of why he suddenly silenced you when he placed a kiss right next to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Looks like she’s home. Be quiet for Daddy, okay, baby?” Your eyes widen in panic, flustered with shame and another feeling you can’t put together when Zeke goes back to his quick pace, fucking you rapidly and giving your clit the contact you so desperately needed. You cum again with a stifled, broken noise leaving your mouth and your body jerking up against his, the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth holding you down in place. You feel yourself clench down on his cock, as he rides you through it, thrusting in and out and doing nothing to stop the vulgar noises that fill the room.

You can hear it now—the steps of your mother coming into the house, and probably up the stairs to her office soon enough. Your heavy breathing coupled with Zeke’s grunts are the only sound left as his hips stutter and you feel hot ropes of cum shoot inside you, filling you up. Zeke finally comes to a halt, pressing a kiss to your lips as you hear your mother walk right outside your door, talking to someone on the phone.

Your panicked eyes meet his perfectly calm ones, a devilish smirk playing at his lips as you hear the steps halt and then continue again, walking by your room as though you didn’t even exist.

You release a sigh, Zeke pressing another kiss to you that you return eagerly.

“Good girl. Now clean up while Daddy goes and deals with her.”

You feel suddenly emptier, lighter as Zeke lifts his weight off of you and adjusts his clothes. You sit back up slowly, careful to not make an even bigger mess and ruin your dress, as Zeke grabs your panties off the floor and hands them to you with a smile. You pull them up, fixing your dress and realizing that you need to run a brush through your hair before you see your mother again.

Zeke unlocks the door and leaves with one last smile gracing his face, as you sit up and feel remnants of your encounter inside you.

Moments later, your mother walks by and glances at your open door, which was locked before. She pushes it open, taking a look at you on the bed. You’re certain you look like a mess, hair disheveled and sweat on your body, with limbs feeling like jelly.

“Hi, mom,” you greet, with the most false enthusiasm you can muster. “What is it?” She looks at you coldly, almost as if she knew something was going on and couldn’t quite place it.

“Clean yourself up, honey, Uncle Eren is coming over for the weekend.”

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke yeager imagine #zeke x reader #zeke smut #zeke jaeger smut #zeke jaeger x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot smut #fics #tw stepcest

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piratesfromspace · 2 years

Text

Old romance (Ben Miller/Reader)

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Pairing: Ben Miller/Fem!Reader, Triple Frontier boys/Fem!Reader Word count: 1k Rated: Explicit

Summary: You’re at the end of your period and you’re starting to get horny. Benny Helps. This one is really some fluffy shameless smut. Happy Valentines, I guess.

Note: This short story is set in my Atlas universe, it takes place some times after this first part.

CW: poly vibes, discussion of period pain, period sex, overstim, fluff

PART 1 // PART 2

MASTERLIST

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It’s that particular time of the month, when you're barely done bleeding, and your hormones are starting to rise like crazy, the pain and the bloating leaving place to some renewed energy. The boys, they have learned to recognize the pattern of your mood by now. It took some time for them to get used to it. Back in your fighting days, you would take the pill, conveniently suppressing your period - and your libido. Easier to deal with when you're supposed to be up and ready at any given hour of the day or the night, definitely easier to handle when you're hiding in some God forsaken jungle for three days straight. No blood, no pain, no logistics around the whole thing except for a bottle of pills and a sip of water.

But when you all decided to settle down and leave the gruesome work behind, you stopped taking it. Just to see. The first months, it hurt like hell - and it’s saying a lot, because you've already been shot at more than once, so you are used to pain. Actually, it felt more like being stabbed in the guts. But at the same time, you felt like you were alive again. The artificial chemicals just weren't a good mix for your body, and your boys soon found out. Your mood is now less stable, more prone to the influence of your wavering hormones, but at the same time, it is also better overall. Joy finally tastes like joy - before it felt like all your emotions were kinda flat.

But your mood isn’t the only change. There is a whole week each month when you’re insatiable, and the 4 of them are not too many to help you work through your needs. It is new - and they aren't complaining. Especially not Benny.

Since you’ve settled in the Miller’s cabin, he’s been spending most of his awake time with you. You have a unique relationship with each of the boys, but Benny definitely feels like that best friend from childhood with whom you did - and still are doing - all sorts of mischief. You’re the closest from his age, and everything about him is just so sincere. Honest. Almost naive. Harmless fun. Even the sex.

It was raining outside and you were trying to read one of those old steamy romance books you found stashed away in the back of your bedroom closet - probably the dirty secret of one of the many girls in the Miller family who used to vacation here. It involved a cruel but handsome pirate and a charming damsel in distress, and a lot of fucking on beaches and tavern backrooms. It was as cliché as can be but a welcome distraction from your boredom. Until Benny crashed on the bed next to you, and picked the book from your hands. He started reading a random paragraph out loud until he realized what it was really about.

A suggestive grin formed on his beautiful face. “Sooo, I can be your pirate if you want…” “Benny, I may still be bleeding.” “I don’t care, do you?”

You answered his question with a searing kiss, and gave him the opportunity to show how he really did not care in the least.

***

The rain has stopped. You don’t really know how long Benny has been fucking you, but you’re the one not caring now. You’re out of breath. Stretched underneath him, you lay boneless from your many orgasms, while he stays up on his knees, still towering over you.

He’s intently watching your cunt, sliding his thumb through the mess of it, swollen shiny folds slick with your own wetness and the lube he insisted on using because he knows how sensitive you can be at the end of your period. His cum is leaking out of you. You’re sure there is a smear of dark red blood in the mix. It’s so sinful, it makes your cheeks burn.

“Look at this, such a cute pussy, all open from my cock, and still so wet…”

Fuck. You sometimes forget he can be as dirty as he’s playful. You thought you were done, but the way his raspy voice is sending heat right to your cunt, it’s making you reconsider. You feel mellow, mind drifting from the high of your past ecstasy, the soft duvet under your back inviting laziness, and still your abused nerves are ready to go again. His fingers finds the apex of your sex, and starts slowly rubbing the hard pearl of your clit. You gasp and whine, it’s too much and yet it feels so good.

"So sensitive," he comments softly. “Benny” you plead, not really knowing what you’re pleading for exactly. “Shh shh I know it’s a lot,” he coos, “but I’m sure I can make you come one more time.”

He bares his white teeth in a devastating smile, and keeps touching you, his other hand petting your flank and thigh. Your flesh feels raw under his fingers, like he’s touching the very center of you. It burns, but under the slight hurt, there is pleasure - bright and pure. Inexorably, he brings you to the edge until your whole body is resumed to one single point between your legs, your mind unable to process anything else. You come, hard, shaking under him, while Benny keeps praising you. Yes, go on, this one looks good - fuck, you’re so hot when you come.

You have to bat his hand away because he won’t stop and you just can’t bear it anymore. He laughs and comes down on the pillow next to you, searching for your mouth. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, from when he had his head between your legs a couple orgasms ago. He really went all out on you today.

You feel him smile against your mouth, and you know he’s gonna say something stupid. Like a child too happy with their joke to hold on longer on it. His hand is reaching across the bed for something, and suddenly he parts from you, with the previously discarded romance book in hand.

“So, where was I already?” He says very seriously, like he hadn’t been torturing you with pleasure a couple minutes ago. “Mm, yes, okay, here it is: Mister Pirate, you feel so good, I’ve never even felt something like this, keep going, hoooo” his fake groan of pleasure is muffled by the pillow you throw on his face. This old romance book is going to be way more entertaining than it seemed.

#benny miller x reader #ben miller #ben miller x reader #benny miller x you #tf poly vibes #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier drabble #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier boys #miller brothers #triple frontier boys x reader

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princessbatears · 2 years

Text

The Bed

The Crash Series #8

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Pairing: Werewolf Paz Vizsla x Female Reader Summary: The Wolf is left with the aftermath of his human counterpart's proposal to you Warnings: language, emotional overwhelm, mild gore, horny touches and arousal Words: 1.7k

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The violent pops and rips coming from the refresher are almost enough to make you forget that Paz had just proposed marriage. Almost.

So many feelings are coursing through you, but the primary one is anger. How dare he do that when he knew he’d be changing at any second?! Now you’re going to be stuck alone with your thoughts and questions for at least ten hours. You have half a mind to go into the bathroom and demand answers before he’s changed completely.

When something shatters, though, you decided to stay put. Paz had fucking better have enough credits to cover for whatever he’s just broken.

Panic threatens to overtake your fury, but you fight it. You don’t want to think about the things it will bring up.

...Like abandoning the land and life your family has treasured for generations.

You’re scrambling to shove that deeper down inside you when the refresher door opens. A light fruity odor wafts into the main room, suggesting that whatever had broken was likely only a sundry.

Paz’s gigantic black Wolf trots out, wagging his tail like nothing has life-changing has happened. He immediately beelines for you, snuffling your cheek. He’s so excited to see you, and it just enrages you further.

You glower at him, slamming the lid down on your half-finished food, which no longer sounds appealing. “I’m going to take a shower.” You stand, pushing past him.

He cocks his head curiously at you, as if he doesn’t know what he’s done. You ignore him, shoving your food into the small corner of the conservator that isn’t taken up by his meat.

Then, you enter the refresher and slam and lock the door. The fruity odor is pleasant enough to calm you down a little. You glance in the trash receptacle and see that it’d been a complimentary bottle of cologne that broke, and there’s a damp, fragrant washcloth in the laundry hamper. At least the Wolf had the decency to clean up his mess.

You turn on the shower, peel off your dirty and blood-encrusted clothes, and step under the spray. As the intensity of your emotions crash down on you, you begin to weep.

- - -

Paz lays on the tile floor, ripping pieces of meat off the bone. It’s pretty good for having been dead more than a day. If he had to choose between being here with you and being out hunting, he’d choose here.

His ears prick and he pauses his munching. Through the beating of the water, he can hear you crying. Worry causes him to quickly go to the refresher door.

When he’d emerged from his shift, you’d been angry and anxious, although he’s not quite sure why. Sadness, confusion, fear, and, more than anything, overwhelm pulse from you now. He distinctly remembers his human self telling you he loves you. And he senses your love for him, too, so why are you this upset?

Paz whines in concern, not having any other way to ask after you.

“I’ll be out soon,” you say, voice thick. There’s a hiccup, then you’re sobbing again.

For a brief instance, your distress has him ready to break down the door, but the sliver of remaining human in him forbids it. Sighing, he returns to his meal to wait for you to come out.

He doesn’t know how long it is until you turn off the water, but it’s certainly not “soon.” He’s polished the meat off all the bones and is now gnawing on the biggest one, trying to keep himself calm.

You finally emerge, scrubbed of blood and grime, and dressed in a fluffy white robe. A floral soapy scent wafts from you. He doesn’t like how it overtakes your natural odor. He also doesn’t like how puffy and red your eyes are from crying.

The tears must have helped, though, because your interior world is calmer. The worry and grief lingers, but it’s not consuming you. Now, you’re just exhausted.

“Hi.” You give him a small smile. “How was your dinner?”

Paz wags his tail, gesturing at all the bones.

“I’m glad.” With a sigh, you collapse onto the bed. “I didn’t think to buy an extra set of clothes while we were getting food, so I’ve washed mine best I can and they’re hanging to dry.” You run your hands over the plush fabric, accentuating your beautiful form underneath it. “This is so soft, it’ll be nice to sleep in.”

Abandoning the bones, he goes over to the bed and rests his chin on it. His eyes ask if he can join you on it, desperate to be next to you.

“Come on.” You pat the covers.

When he jumps up, his unbelievable mass sends you several inches into the air. You yelp, scrambling for the covers so you don’t fall off the bed. He reaches out a long front paw to snatch your waist before you’re lost to the floor.

Laughing breathlessly, you roll into him. He tucks you under his arm, gently licking the tear-swollen skin around your eyes. Lids fluttering closed, you go still under the caresses.

“Why did tell me you love me and want to be my life partner right before the moon rose?” Your voice is small and confused. “Was it because you didn’t want to talk about it right away? Or because you’re scared of my response?”

Paz isn’t sure what to make of these complicated-sounding questions. But he doesn’t want you to be sad, so he kisses more of your face.

Your fingers dig into his thick fur, sighing again. “It feels like too much, too soon. But it also doesn’t. Because I also love you and I want to be your wife.”

Although the Wolf already knew this, hearing it sends a jolt of excitement through him. He nuzzles your cheeks and nose so ecstatically that you laugh again. “Easy, bone breath.”

He forces himself to calm down. What you seem to need right now is comfort and reassurance, so that’s what he’ll give you. He snuggles you closer to him, wrapping himself in a ball around you. You rest your head against his ruff.

“But I know you can’t stay, which means I have to go with you. And I don’t know if I can do that. Everything I’ve ever known is here. My family’s legacy is here.” Your voice catches. “And... I’m scared.”

Paz roos softly, causing you to look into his eyes. He smiles gently, taking one of your hands and putting it over his heart. Then, he puts his own paw lightly over your heart. The bond mates share means that, no matter what happens, no matter how scary it is, neither of you will be alone.

You must understand enough of what he’s trying to tell you because your turbulent emotions are joined by a new one in that moment: hope. “Do you promise you’ll talk to me more about this tomorrow?”

He nods, poking his human consciousness sharply. He’d better clean up whatever mess he’d left you in and not do it again!

That night, he stays awake, making sure you remain warm and comfortable as you sleep in the nest he’s made of himself. When it’s time for him to shift back to human, he covers you up with blankets and returns to the refresher.

Human again, Paz stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking in eyes that are still flecked with amber from the change.

Things did not go as he’d planned last night. He’d been overzealous and fucked the timing up. Thankfully, your gracious spirit is willing to give him another chance.

After donning his jumpsuit and helmet, he walks into the main room. You’re now awake, smiling sleepily at him.

“Morning,” he says warmly, going to sit next to you. He traces the line of your collarbone visible between the top of the robe with his bare pointer finger.

Your skin heats under the touch and he smells the start of your arousal. Smiling to himself, he continues the gentle movement, adding in all five of his fingers to caress along your neck.

Suddenly, though, you sit up, breaking contact. “Do you remember promising we’d talk?”

It takes a moment for his blood to travel up from his crotch to his brain. “Oh, yeah. I'm sorry about last night. I wasn’t thinking about the time when I asked you to be my mate.”

“It was a shitty thing not to think about,” you scowl, crossing your arms. “Just drop that on me and then not be able to talk all night?”

Paz grimaces. “I know.” He vaguely remembers you asking the Wolf questions about his motivations. “It wasn’t because I wanted to avoid the conversation or your response. I’d been wanting to talk to you about it all day and it just felt like the right moment. Which it obviously wasn’t.”

The tension eases from your shoulders at his explanation. “It might not have been the worst thing, honestly. I was so startled and overwhelmed that having a chance to process was probably for the best.”

He links his hand with yours. “This place is your home, and it’s a lot to ask you to leave. If I didn’t have others counting on me, I’d stay with you, but my people need me.”

You nod, eyes on your hands. “And the truth is... I don’t have anyone here. I’ve been telling myself for years that I’ll find a man, we’ll get the farm profitable, grow a family, and that my line won’t die out. But that’s never happened.”

His other hand tilts your chin up so you have to look into his visor. “I understand what it is to want to preserve a family legacy, to preserve a home. I’ve lost mine, as well. But, we can rebuild ours together.”

You smile your stunning smile. “We can.”

He inhales slowly, determined to do this right this time. “Will you be my mate and riduur?”

There’s no hesitation in your, “Yes, Paz.”

- - -

Thank you SO much for reading this story; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🥰

Mando’a Translations: Riduur - spouse/husband/wife

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Paz Vizsla Masterlist

Werewolf Masterlist

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fan fic #werewolf au #were!paz #the crash series

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Prey

got a request for a monster!Uvo as well as a request for an Uvo fic where he chases the reader. hope it’s cool that I combined the two of them

@ramwrites and I are in agreement that werewolf is the best type of monster for Uvogin

werewolf!Uvogin

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Warnings: death, blood, gore, body horror, little bit of smut, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, attempted suicide, implied kidnapping, reader does not have a good time

Thin rays of sun that were able to slip past the branches of the trees hit Uvo's back as he went about his work, placing another upright log on the now considerably worn down tree stump and bringing his axe down upon it, slicing the wood in two and tossing the pieces into the pile to his right before he grabbed another unchopped piece from the pile to the left. Based off of the sun's position in the sky, it was only a bit after midday. Uvogin had been going at this for a while now, his sweat staining the white tank he wore.

Though the sweating wasn't because the work was in any way debilitating. Any other day of the month Uvogin would've been able to chop the same amount and not even break a sweat.

No, today was different because of what was happening tonight: a full moon.

Even though the night was still a long ways off, Uvo could already feel the very beginnings of his transformation shuddering through him. Faint, but still noticable. Unfortunately, with the ever present fact that nightfall wouldn't come for hours yet, there was little he could to other than to keep himself busy and distract himself lest the anticipation kill him. So he continued to chopping the logs, even though the amount he had cut already was bordering on excessive.

In the midst of his distraction, his ears perked up when he heard the faint rumblings of a car engine. His senses of smell and hearing were always pretty good even when it wasn't close to a full moon, but those senses were ten times as sharp now, and he could clearly hear as the car came in closer and closer.

Whoever they were, they wouldn't be the first people to have approached him today. Already he'd been asked two different times for directions to the nearby campgrounds, the first time by an elderly couple who were likely well into retirement, and the second by a group of individuals who had also gotten lost. The woman from that group who went up to him told him more information than he'd needed to know, informing him of how theirs was a company sanctioned team-building retreat. She had a piece of gum in her mouth and smacked it loudly as she talked, and because of his sensitive hearing, the sound of it became distressing to the point that Uvo had to keep himself from clawing his ears off.

Everyone in that group deserved to die because of that woman alone.

Uvogin didn't stop what he was doing even when he heard the car drive past and then suddenly brake, just continuing as he was while he heard the sounds of a car door opening and someone stepping out. Words were being spoken; what was being said exactly he couldn't say, but based off of previous experience it was easy enough to guess.

The car door slammed shut and the engine rumbled again as the car began to drive further down the dirt road. It'd be back in a little bit – over that way was a dead end. But Uvogin quickly switched his focus to the footsteps he heard walking through the unmarked pathway and headed towards him.

“Excuse me?”

He heard your voice call out to him, and Uvo finally turned to face you. Upon making eye contact with him, you smiled and held up a map as you called out again “sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help out with some directions? We're looking for the Visca lake campgrounds, but I think we've been going around in circles.”

You didn't come any closer when you said that, though it seemed to be more out of a desire to not intrude on his space as opposed to being nervous about the axe he was holding. There was a hopeful look in your eye, though you also seemed ready to apologize for bugging him if he instead told you to fuck off.

Already he knew he liked you much better than the bitch from earlier.

“Sure,” he replied.

Uvo set the axe down and walked towards you, his hand outstretched so you could hand him your map. You smiled and handed him the map without any hesitation, coming up beside him as he unfolded it and scanned the paper so he could give you an idea of what direction you needed to go. The height difference between the two of you meant that he needed to lean down a bit as he pointed out to you the appropriate road that would get you to your destination.

“The road to the campgrounds is here,” he told you.

Despite the way he had tried to accommodate the height difference, you still needed to stand on your toes to see where he was pointing. Your arm came up briefly before you swiftly pulled it back. Like you'd been tempted to place your hand on his forearm to better balance yourself but stopped yourself since the two of you were complete strangers. Though Uvo wouldn't have minded too much if you had done so. Taking advantage of the way you were right next to him, he inhaled, memorizing your scent for later.

Uvo then moved his finger towards the left as he continued “we're around this area, so you'll want to drive back the way you came and take the first right you see. Then you'll want to take another right to get onto the campground road. As long as you don't fuck up turning, you should get to the lake in about ten minutes. Maybe less.”

“Ah, okay!” you responded, taking back your map as you looked over the route he'd pointed out to you. As you were desperate to make sure you got his directions right so you wouldn't need to be in the embarrassing situation of messing up his instructions and needing to go back to him for further clarification, you didn't notice the way he was looking you over or how he inhaled more of your scent.

Your hair smelled of something flowery, some kind of hair product you must have used that morning before you drove out here. Your clothing also had a rather soapy smell, though it wasn't as noticeable as the product in your hair. Beneath all of that, he was able to take in your natural scent that was free of any products or chemicals, as well as... Perfume? An odd choice for a camping trip, he thought. Then another smell hit him, one that surrounded you but you were definitely not the source of.

Oh.

It was the unmistakable scent of another man.

The perfume made more sense now. You'd said 'we' earlier as well, so chances were you'd come here with a boyfriend for a romantic weekend getaway and his smell has just gotten all over you after spending several hours cooped up in a car with him.

Not terribly displeasing. A boyfriend being in the picture might make things a bit more interesting.

“Okay, I think I've got it,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “sorry if I took up too much of your time.”

“No problem,” he answered, “I get a lotta people asking for directions, so I'm used to it.”

“Really? That sounds like it gets annoying. Why don't they put up signs or something?” you asked.

“They do,” Uvo said, “but they usually get taken down by vandals.”

More like self-righteous teenagers who'd found out the truth about him and couldn't stand the fact that the elders of the nearby town allowed Uvogin to do as he pleased and thought they could thwart his killing sprees by taking down the signs leading to the lake, like they could save any innocent vacationers if they weren't able to find the campgrounds. Those kids had yet to learn that if they managed to deprive Uvo of his prey, he'd be forced to go to their own town and hunt there, maybe snatch up one of them or their families. The older folk in charge of the town understood that, and they'd decided that it was better to let the occasional out of town stranger be his prey than risk him coming in and picking off whatever stragglers he could find in their community.

People vacationing in the wilderness died all the time, after all.

“Vandals?” you asked. There was the slightest bit of concern in your voice, and when your eyes went slightly wide as you looked at him, he couldn't help but muse at how cute you looked like that.

“Just dumb kids,” he explained, “there's a small town a little ways back and I reckon they don't have much to do around there.”

“Ah, I see. Do you think we'll need to worry about them bothering us?”

“Nah, they wouldn't do anything,” Uvo said, “besides, they know that I'm out here today, and they know better than to bug me.”

You laughed a bit at that, any deeper meaning to his words going over your head.

“I can't blame them. If I was one of them I'd be too scared to do anything to get on your bad side.”

Uvogin just smiled.

A voice then called at the top of the path, and you both looked to see a dark-haired man around your age standing there. He called out what Uvo assumed was your name, and you waved to him, calling out a short “coming!” before you turned back to Uvogin.

“Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Once again, not a problem. Hope you two have a good time.”

You smiled and nodded at him, and then began to walk back over to your boyfriend. But before you had the chance to bid him goodbye, Uvogin spoke again.

“You wanna know something that's not in any visitor's guides?” he asked.

“Huh?”

He grinned at your slightly confused expression as he explained “if you go down to the southern side of the lake, there are these really beautiful cliffs in the forest. A lot of clearings that show a pretty good view of the sky, too. And it's a full moon tonight; if you want to make some memories, you should check it out when it gets dark.”

Clearly intrigued, you turned back to face him, asking “really? Why isn't that part advertised?”

“The locals want to keep parts of the lake to themselves,” he said, “but I think it's something that you might appreciate.”

“You sure you won't get in trouble for telling me?”

“Not if you don't say anything,” said Uvo, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. Behind you, your boyfriend was starting to look a bit suspicious, and his lips soon formed a frown. You weren't paying him any mind at the moment.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Uvogin.”

You held out your hand as you introduced yourself, and he humored you by giving you a handshake.

“Thank you so much for everything,” you said, “maybe we'll see you again while we're here.”

“Maybe.”

With that, you finally turned and made your way to your awaiting boyfriend, who gave Uvo one last narrowed glance before he turned his attention to you as you eagerly pulled your map back out and began to tell him the directions that had been given to you. Your boyfriend only gave one more glance towards Uvogin before focusing his full attention on you, looking over the map with you before the two of you made your way back to the car. He seemed rather boring, Uvo thought to himself. Yet before you made it back in, you stepped up and kissed your boyfriend on the cheek. Uvo saw the way your boyfriend stiffened and the blush that reached his ears as he sat down in the driver's seat to escape your random but sweet action. You laughed as you entered through the passenger's side, and Uvo kept an eye on the two of you until he saw your small, light blue car pull away and drive down the road.

When the two of you were gone, Uvo went back to chopping wood, picking the axe back up and slicing the log into two even pieces. He didn't expect that anyone else would come blundering into the forest before evening, but if they did, he wouldn't pay them much mind. If he killed every single person who came in to enjoy the lake he would quickly lose that particular food source and then need to find another area to hunt.

No, the only ones that were on the table tonight were the company group and you and your boyfriend – he wouldn't bother hunting down that elderly couple as it wouldn't be interesting in the slightest to go after them. The larger group had a good number of people in it, so there would be no need to seek out anyone else. Honestly he shouldn't even bother with the two of you, but Uvo thought of you again, thinking over every action you had taken, from the way you had approached him to how you held out your hand when you introduced yourself.

The little bit of affection you had offered to your boyfriend also came to mind but he brushed that thought away. It was unimportant, he told himself.

No, he shouldn't bother with the two of you, but he wanted to see how your naive little expression might change when you saw him next, after the moonlight had transformed him, and hear how you might scream and cry as he hunted you down.

He grinned at the thought, and when his axe came down again, it sliced the log and the stump beneath it clean through.

The true beginnings of his change had started hours ago when the sun sank past the horizon and the moon slowly rose in the night sky. Just little things, like the way his teeth began to shift in his mouth, or how the black tips of his claws were starting to show beneath his fingernails, slowly pushing up beneath the nails and trying to force themselves out so he could have an easier time tearing apart whatever unfortunate victim happened to be closest to him.

His skin was starting to shift a bit in places as well as it began to detach from the muscle beneath, and he was hit with an overwhelming urge to run outside and allow his transformation to complete so he could go wild as he always did on a full moon night.

But he waited, forcing himself to focus on the fire that was burning before him, to wait until it had gone out completely before he stepped foot out of his cabin.

It had turned into something of a ritual for him; when he had started it he could no longer remember. It was purely ceremonial, and at the heart of it he knew that it did nothing to add to his hunt, but after being alone in the woods for so long he supposed he was entitled to a bit of superstition. And at this point, it would have felt wrong to do it any other way. When the fire went out, the moon would be at the highest point in the sky, and when he left the dark cabin and bared himself to the moonlight, his werewolf form would tear through and he would track down the victims he had met earlier in the day, the ones whose scents he had remembered after he'd chosen them for his prey. Didn't matter much in what order he got them, just whatever scent he came across first.

Although maybe tonight it mattered a little bit. If he could manage it, Uvogin wanted you to be the last one to die tonight. After the group from the company retreat and your bland looking boyfriend, he'd hoped he could then have you for last. Something about that made him feel like that would be the only appropriate ending to the night.

But that all depended if he could manage to remember that after he'd transformed.

The light of the fire was growing more dim, and he was having a harder time sitting still, his entire body itching to burst through the cabin door and let the moonlight take him.

Not yet, he told himself.

But soon.

Those black claws were showing a bit more now, and at least two of his fingernails had popped off, blood coating his fingertips as his hands clenched onto the skin of his legs. That same skin shifted once more as he did so, and after a few moments he felt something trickling down his thigh, and when he glanced down he could see in the faint glimmer of firelight the hole in his skin that he'd torn open, and the dark fur beneath the human flesh that was still covered and the blood dripping down his leg.

Not yet not yet not yet

A few more agonizing minutes later that had seemed endless in his mind, and finally the fire he'd begun earlier was reduced to a smoulder, the flames dying out and the wood glowing red as the fire reached the end of its life.

Now

No sooner had he thought that Uvogin had thrown open the cabin door and ran out into the woods that surrounded him, bare as he gazed up at the full moon as he allowed himself the moment that he'd been holding off on.

There were multiple changes simultaneously and Uvogin was barely able to comprehend all of what was happening to him because of it. There was always a pain that accompanied his transformation, and while it was a pain that he was used to at this point, it was pain nonetheless.

At the sight of the moon his green eyes turned yellow and his pupils narrowed into slits, while the bones in his body began to shift and grow. It started with his spine, extending and pushing out through his skin and almost causing a ripple effect through his whole body. His bones were snapping and stretching beneath his skin, growing as his muscles were expanding and making him into even more of a giant than he already was. Claws on his hands and feet tore through the flesh that surrounded them as those parts of him extended, the skin ripping open and allowing more of the fur that was hidden underneath to show through.

When he felt the flesh around his shoulders stretch out in an attempt to accommodate the transformation he sped up the process by reaching up and tearing it away with his own fingers, the black claws easily ripping in and pulling the skin away like a latex glove. Soon the skin that had been on his arms sat around him in pieces on the grass and he began the same process with his chest and legs, tearing away his flesh in messy strips and allowing the fur that had formed on his body to be exposed, matted with blood and looking almost black in the light of the moon.

His skull went through the same process as the rest of his body, and he felt his face crack into several different pieces before the bones began to remold themselves and pushed outward, taking the shape of a wolf's muzzle while his teeth extended and shifted to fit properly in his newly formed mouth. When his ears began twisting and pushing upwards into sharp points was when he tore at the skin on his face, pulling it off as he had done with the rest and throwing it to the forest floor.

When the last of his human flesh had been removed, his transformation was complete. The man who had stepped out of that cabin was gone and replaced with a large, bipedal wolf whose yellow eyes dilated as he looked up once more to the moon. Lifting his head up, he arched his back as he let out a howl loud enough that echoed through the woods and across the surface of the lake. Those that heard it in the nearby town quietly whispered their prayers to whichever gods they worshiped while those who were visiting the lake's campsite merely marveled at the sound.

If Uvo was in a different mindset he might have thought of you in that moment, and what you might be thinking when you heard him. If you had any clue of the danger you were in.

But in this moment, there was no thought of you or even saving you for last as he had tried to so hard to ingrain into himself. There was no thought of doing this in any order or trying to end the night correctly as he had mused about earlier.

The only thing going through Uvogin's mind was the need to kill.

As luck would have it, he'd managed to kill the ones from that company first.

There had been more of them. More that were wandering around their campsite, more that were talking amongst themselves, and in general just making more noise that, combined with their scents from earlier, allowed him to find them first.

There were actually more of them in that group than he'd anticipated, and as he killed off the last woman in the group, gum falling from her mouth as he twisted her head completely around. Uvo then looked around at the carnage he'd left in his wake. It was hard to tell with the way they were all in pieces now, but the number of people group had easily been in the double digits. That would probably cause a bit of trouble, as it would be hard to try and cover this up. This would easily make the news. Annoying, as Uvo would need to make sure to lay low for a bit, and it could possibly lower the amount of potential victims in the area when the next full moon came.

But it had still been worth it.

Uvogin felt more like himself again now that the murderous urges had been sated. Able to think a bit more clearly, more rationally. And he was able to remember you and what he'd hoped for early on. He could imagine it: your scared expression as you watched him kill your boyfriend before he slaughtered you like the rest, your screams cutting short as he bit into the skin of your neck and tore out your throat.

Now that his hunger was taken care of, he left the campsite of the now-dead group. Right now all he wanted was to find you and your boyfriend.

Remembering what he had told you of the southern side of the lake, he took a gamble as he headed off in that direction, making his way through the woods at speeds much faster than a regular human would be capable of. He stopped when he felt the wind blowing again, and lifted his nose in the air, trying to see if he catch anything.

….. There

It was faint. Very faint, but he managed to catch a familiar human scent.

He turned and headed off in your direction. It was too far away to get your exact location, but it was enough that he could get at least an idea of where you were.

Continuing towards the south side of the lake, he stayed close to the shoreline until he found your little blue car from earlier parked close to the lake, a tent set up not too far off from it. Your scent became a bit more clear as he came closer, and yet when stopped to scan the area, his eyes looking for the slightest bit of movement and his ears straining to hear any bit of noise, he couldn't find you.

A bit annoying, but based off of the way the two of you had left things, you should still be in the area. It was just a matter of hunting you down.

Uvo stalked about the campsite, just in case he missed something while also puncturing two of the tires on your car and cutting off that potential escape route. Satisfied that neither of you were on the site or next to the water, he walked back into the woods, following after the little bits of that fragrance he'd latched onto.

As he walked, he thought to himself with some amusement that you'd actually taken up his suggestion. Uvogin had found that most people didn't bother, either because they were too dedicated to the plans they'd made before arriving or because they didn't trust that the landscape was as beautiful as he'd made it out to be. In fairness, it mostly all looked the same to him, but there had just been something about that particular bit of campground that made him enjoy hunting there more. So it was even more perfect that the two of you had ended up there. Most likely you were just doing what you felt like and didn't feel like adhering to any particular schedule.

His ears perked up as he heard a low voice in the distance. Not yours. Probably your boyfriend, then. Focusing himself so he could move silently, Uvogin weaved through the trees, his eyes searching for you while he listened for more noise from either of you.

When he heard your voice next, he had definitely gotten closer. Your voice had sounded odd, though. Almost breathless.

He found the two of you in a larger clearing that stood beneath one of the cliffs he had spoken of. You were laying with your back on the grass, dressed in a swimsuit with only a shirt over it. Your boyfriend was in a similar state with the moonlight falling onto his bare back, and it looked like both of you were a bit wet, some drops of water still on your skin and hair still damp. So the two of you had gone swimming before you wandered over to this area to mess around.

You said something to him before the two of you shared a kiss, and you moaned into it when he slipped his hand under your shirt to grab at your chest.

It certainly wasn't the first time Uvo had come across a pair of lovers in the woods. Such encounters usually ended with one or both betraying the other, as several times in the past one would push the other into Uvo's path in an attempt to save themselves after having a passionate make-out session only moments before.

Uvogin stepped out from the treeline and waited for one of you to notice him. You let out another moan, and to him it sounded like it was slightly exaggerated. Was your boyfriend not that good? Not too surprising, based off of Uvo's impression of him.

If Uvo had been the man on top of you, he was certain he could do much better.

….. Where did that come from?

Uvo didn't get much time to wonder about that as he heard you let out a sharp gasp, and when his eyes refocused on you, he saw that you were looking right at him. Your eyes were wide and your skin paled as you stiffened, your hands grasping at your boyfriend's arms.

“What's wrong?” your boyfriend asked when he noticed your reaction.

Keeping your eyes on Uvogin, you answered him in a small whisper “there's something over there.”

Your boyfriend turned his head to where you were looking, and he went stiff as well when he saw Uvogin's werewolf form.

It was quiet in that clearing, free of any noises from any woodland animals or even the insects, as anything that was in that immediate area sensed the danger and were desperate to keep silent. No, the only sound Uvo could hear was your breathing that became more panicked as you struggled to keep it under control and the way your boyfriend tried to shush you while he broke out into a cold sweat. You two were both under the impression to stay still and not make any sudden movements for fear of provoking him.

Then your boyfriend whispered your name.

“When I move,” he breathed out, “I want you to run back to the car and get out of here. Even if I'm not with you, you have to take the car and leave.”

As he spoke, your boyfriend slowly moved his hand over to a pack beside you that Uvo hadn't noticed at first. Still, Uvo grinned. He thought he could take him on?

You tried to protest but your boyfriend wasn't hearing it, only repeating his instructions to you and trying to make you promise that you would do as he said. You didn't want to; that was clear, but when you looked back over to Uvogin's form outside the treeline, you shuddered once more and agreed to leave with a short nod.

Uvogin waited for the boyfriend to make his move. He looked just as terrified as you were, but he was clearly trying to be brave for your sake, and his resolve seemed to steel when he got a hold of whatever he had been searching for in the pack.

“Now!”

Your boyfriend yelled as he shot up and charged at Uvo. For the first time since seeing him, Uvogin felt mildly impressed with your boyfriend; he'd been genuine about wanting to save you over himself. Not like he wouldn't still die for it as he was still incredibly weak, but there was something to be said about the willingness he had to face down a beast like Uvo for your sake.

You must be something special to make a man go that far for you.

The thing your boyfriend had pulled out turned out to be a can of bear spray as well as a medium-sized hunting knife. Uvo managed to doge the stream that had been aimed at him easily on account of how badly the hand that held it had been shaking. The boyfriend ran back a bit, unwilling to get too close to Uvogin even with the knife. He tried to aim it again, but Uvo used his claws to slice at him, slashing upwards as he aimed for his throat.

Somehow, he missed the boyfriend's throat and only managed to hit the side of his face, opening up his cheek and taking off his ear. The boyfriend cried out at that, one hand going up to his bleeding cheek while still trying to incapacitate Uvo with the bear spray. But with the way he stumbled about, it was almost too easy for Uvogin to grab him by his face and hurl him into the trunk of a nearby tree. He hit headfirst, and there was an audible cracking sound that came from the impact. Uvogin didn't even bother to watch the way his body hit the ground, experience telling him that he was definitely dead.

Uvogin was much more interested in you.

You were still in the clearing. At first you had done as your boyfriend had told you and bolted the second he yelled, running back to your campsite. But you stopped and turned back when you heard him cry out when Uvo had slashed at him. You wanted to help him but you also knew there was nothing you could do, and so you were left standing in the clearing, your whole body shaking as you struggled with the decision to stay or leave your boyfriend behind.

It was cute how loyal you were to him.

And loyalty certainly wasn't a bad quality.

When you saw your boyfriend die you froze, tears streaming down your face as you looked between the now dead man and the thing that had murdered him. You were clearly in a panic, your legs trembling as your brain struggled to figure out what to do, where to go from here. Certainly you had to be aware that you'd lost any chance of getting away like you'd been told to do, right?

Apparently not, as when Uvogin stepped forward you bolted, running back towards the camp. Yet Uvo found a sense of relief with that, that you wouldn't just sit there and let him kill you and end it so early.

For whatever reason, that last thought displeased him.

But he brushed that away as he chased after you only moments later, not bothering to be quiet with his movements and instead being as loud as possible, breaking apart any low-hanging branches in his wake as he howled into the night air once again.

You had only made it a little ways past the car when he emerged from the forest and lunged towards you. It seemed like you were trying to get away on foot given the damage to the car. Already there was a scent of blood in your wake, as the soles of your feet had already been cut up on the sharp debris of the forest floor.

You turned towards him just in time to see him raising his clawed hand over his head before he sliced it downwards. Through what must have been some bit of luck, you stumbled backwards at that moment and all he managed to do was give you a flesh wound.

You hit the surface of the gravel road hard, crying out in pain at the force of your fall as well as the cuts that were on your arm, your hand immediately grasping at your wound as you desperately tried to use your legs to get yourself off of the ground.

Then he was on top of you.

He opened his jaws wide; you saw as he did so, and attempted to crawl out from under him.

He snapped his jaws shut on your throat.

And you went stiff.

It was quiet for a few moments.

And then a small rush of air escaped from your mouth as you let out a breath you had been holding.

Almost.

He had almost killed you in that moment.

The pointed tips of his teeth were pressing lightly into your skin, not quite hard enough to make you bleed, but that would change if you shifted your neck just slightly.

Why had he stopped?

He stayed there, hunched over you, his arms caging you in while his maw was around your throat. He felt the pulse in your neck beating wildly, almost causing vibrations against his teeth. You had stopped struggling, your legs still while you continued to clutch at your wounded arm, the only noises coming from you now being your uneven breathing.

What was he doing?

His yellow eye glanced over to your face, and he found that you weren't even looking at him. You were gazing in the direction of the night sky, where the light of the moon shown down on you like a spotlight, but it didn't even seem like you were even looking at that. Your eyes were wide as you breathed hard, and Uvo had to wonder if you were currently seeing your life flash before your eyes. That perhaps your mind had accepted that this was the end of your life and was remembering as much as you could before Uvogin would sink in his teeth and sever those major arteries in your neck.

Were you satisfied with all that you had accomplished up to this point, or were you disappointed and felt that you should have done more?

Moments passed like that, his hulking form engulfing yours with no movement from either of you. He took in a deep breath, and he once again caught some of the flowery smell of your shampoo, though it had largely faded by now, and you smelled much more like the woods after the hours you had spent there. More like pine and tree leaves, and the fresh water of the lake, and....

Uvogin let out a short grunt that made you whimper and you clenched your eyes shut as you believed this to be the end. You had no clue that Uvo could smell your arousal coming from between your legs. It had come from the way you'd been fooling around with your boyfriend earlier – there was no way you could have been turned on by this.

Uvo thought again of what he had seen when he stumbled upon the two of you, and that odd thought that had interjected at one point. You had been on his mind almost all day, and he thought it was because he wanted to kill you. And now you were beneath him and the moment couldn't have been more right, and yet now that was the last thing he wanted to do.

It hit him then. The different urge he'd had about you since he had seen you earlier in the day, since he had seen the way you treated your boyfriend; the way you had kissed that man had stuck out in his mind. Hardly any different than any other couple he had seen who were too big on PDA, yet combined with the way you had first come up to him, had smiled and thanked him, and introduced yourself so willingly while also asking for his name had made all of the difference in the world.

His days in the woods were lonely. It was something Uvo was well aware of but had thought he could handle, and he had done so for several years now without issue. But now that he knew you, with your actions and your touch and even the sweet scent of your arousal that he wished more and more that he had been the cause of, another second of being alone sounded more like torture.

Still, the biggest reason he had stayed on his own for so long was that he had accepted that there would be few in this world who would be alright with spending the rest of their lives with a man-eating monster. And any that he may have wanted to keep alive despite that probably wouldn't have been worth the trouble. Keeping someone else with him would also mean he would need to put in the effort to keep them alive, and if he had them unwillingly he'd need to make sure they wouldn't be able to get away, either by restraining them or locking them up.

He watched you, watched the way your face stayed scrunched up as you waited for him to finish it. He wanted you, but were you worth the trouble?

When Uvogin pulled off of your neck and sat back up, you meekly opened your eyes in confusion and trying to anticipate what horrible thing he would do to you next. You yelped when he grabbed you by the back of your shirt as he stood, pulling you up to your feet and setting you in front of him. With one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip, he turned you so you were facing away from him, making sure you were steady on your feet.

He leaned down so his maw was right next to your ear, and in a voice that sounded more animal than human, he growled out a single word:

“Run.”

With that he pushed you forward. You stumbled a bit, your brain still processing what he had said as you barely took a few steps away from him. Then, like a lightning bolt had hit you, you finally seemed to understand as you snapped back and made a beeline for the woods. Your bare feet were loud on the cluttered forest floor, and he occasionally heard little gasps and soft whimpers of pain when you cut your foot open further on a rock or a sharp branch.

Uvo waited, wanting to give you a good head start before he began to chase after you. It would be easy to track you, especially with how much you were bleeding now, but he shuddered with barely contained excitement, eager to chase you down but knowing that he needed to give you a decent head start or else it would be over too quickly.

If you proved yourself worthy of keeping alive, then he'd take you back to his cabin.

And he really hoped you wouldn't let him down.

…. But then something felt wrong.

Uvogin's eyes narrowed as he sensed that you were still within the immediate area and not moving away from him as he had expected. The direction you had gone in was the same one the both of you had come from; the patch of woods and the clearing where he'd found you in the pathway. There wasn't anything there that you could have fallen over or gotten stuck on, so why....

A new thought occurred to him, and Uvo growled lowly to himself as he hoped he wouldn't see what he felt he might when he found you next.

You were back in that clearing, sitting next to your boyfriend's fallen body. Your body was facing the direction Uvo had arrived from, both of your hands in front of you as looked down at your now former lover. There were tears rolling down your cheeks as you sat there.

A wave of disgust hit Uvogin as he found he was correct and was thoroughly disappointed with your actions. He'd given you a chance to get away and you'd wasted it by sitting around crying. Clearly he had given you too much credit.

You heard him as he began to walk towards you, and he noted the way your hands slipped beneath your boyfriend's slightly upturned body, your head still downcast.

He stood across from you, letting out a huff that made you flinch. But still, you didn't move from that spot.

As he opened his jaws your head shot up and you lifted your hands from beneath the body.

Just as you did so, something sprayed into his nose, eyes and his open mouth. Something that stung and made him gag. Fuck it burned, and Uvogin let out a howl of pain as he clutched at his face.

The bear spray-!

Something sharp then dug into the flesh beneath his collarbone, and the pain from the bitter spray was accompanied by the sensation of a knife blade stabbing into him.

With another howl as he was now blinded, he swiped a hand in your general direction and heard you yelp as he simultaneously clawed your shoulder and forced you to the ground. With his hearing now being his greatest sense, he managed to pick up the clatter the bear spray can made as the force of his blow made you drop it, and he moved one of his feet to stomp at it, crushing it and making it useless.

Uvo roared again as he swung about wildly, trying to catch you once more, but you managed to avoid his attacks and made your way into the woods again as he heard your labored breathing and footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

He clutched at his face as he tried to make himself calm down, trying to will away the pain and regain his sense of sight and smell.

…. Not bad.

Even with the rage he had felt in the moment, he found himself relieved, almost happy that you had caught him off-guard. You had gone as far as to use your boyfriend's body as a prop, to make him think that you were too broken up about his death so he would lower his guard. Had you been a bit taller, you could have done a decent amount of damage if you'd managed to stab the knife into his throat.

The knife was still in him, he realized, and after regaining a little bit of his sight in his left eye, he easily pulled it out and threw it across the way.

Now you had no weapons, but he was also at a disadvantage as his eyes were still watering and he could no longer smell you as clearly, the harsh chemicals of the spray making him internally wince every time he breathed through his nose. If he wanted to catch you, he would need to rely almost entirely on his hearing to search for you.

The sounds you were making were quite distant now, but he grinned to himself and stayed there a while longer, letting you get further away.

The direction you were going had no civilization, there was only forest for miles, and he was happy to let you get yourself more and more lost if it meant that his hunt would continue.

By the time dawn was nearing, signaled by the sickly pale color the sky had turned to, Uvogin had managed to chase you further into the wilderness, up through the trees and near the edge of a cliff face. Throughout the night there had been times where you had slowed or stopped completely as you tried to regain your strength, taking advantage of your smaller size and slipping into places that he couldn't easily get to. You also had several brief spurts of energy where you had sped up suddenly, more determined than ever to get away from him while you threw various stones and branches back towards him, though you never tried anything else as bold as you had with your trick from earlier as you didn't allow him to get that close again.

But as you stumbled to the edge of the cliff and looked at the steep drop before you, it was clear to him that your fight was gone. He knew it even before you fell to your knees on the sharp rock. The chase had ended, and just in time, as daylight would be here soon, and when that came he would revert back to his human form.

It had been one of the most memorable hunts he'd had in years, and even though your will had been broken in the process, by now he was certain that he wanted to keep you. To have a little partner in his solitary life, someone to keep his bed warm and wait for him to return home in the evenings. The scenario was nice to think about, and he especially liked the idea of you cuddling up to him during the colder months of the year, trying to keep yourself warm with his body heat to fight the chilly air that would sneak inside. Maybe eventually he'd get you to give him sweet tokens of affection like you'd given to your boyfriend, perhaps a kiss on the cheek before he went out to hunt.

And maybe every once in a while, if you were still insistent on putting up a fight, Uvo might let you out during a full moon and make you think you had a chance to escape, just so he could hunt you down and drag you back to his little home in the woods.

The thought of it gave him chills, and he wondered how long he would need to wait before he could let you out.

You were lightly swaying in place as you looked to the ground below while Uvo was consumed in the thoughts he had about you. He assumed that you were just waiting for him to finish it – your willpower was dried up, and there was no way you would try to run around him or do anything as stupid as try to climb down the cliff face.

He had no clue where your thoughts had taken you in that moment.

Realization shot through him when he saw your shoulders sag and your body began to fall forward over the edge.

Uvo rushed forward and grabbed you by your shoulder before you fell off and he threw you back, a good distance further and far rougher than he had been intending, as you wailed weakly when you hit the ground.

If you were willing to kill yourself to escape him, he'd need to wait some time before letting you run about the woods again.

By now, you were covered in dirt and blood and whatever else had stuck to you from the forest while you had run from him. Your skin was covered in cuts that he and the forest had given you and it would likely be some time before you would be able to properly walk again based off of the state of your feet. When he approached you once more, you clenched your eyes shut again. By now you were past the point of tears and just waited for him to finish you off.

You jolted at the feeling of his fur brushing against your skin when straddled you once more, but just as before, the killing blow you were expecting never came. You opened one eye, and just as you did so, the first rays of the sun shone over the landscape beyond and hit Uvogin.

You watched in silent horror as the fur that covered him caught on fire and began to burn. He was briefly consumed by the flames before they vanished into puffs of smoke. His bones were snapping again, breaking into pieces and retracting back into their normal size while his muscles and skin rippled and shrunk back down, tightening around his fingers as the claws also retracted and vanished beneath the skin. As his wolf face broke apart and reformed, there was a look of shock in your eyes as you saw the beast on top of you become more and more human. And that shock soon turned into a realization when you found that you recognized the man who was on top of you.

His transformation back to his human form was over in a matter of seconds, and when it was over and his green eyes looked back down at you, you stuttered as you tried to find your voice.

“U-Uvogin?” you asked weakly.

He grinned, pleased that you had remembered his name.

Without another word, Uvo leaned down over you so he could begin the process of properly claiming you as his.

#reader insert #uvo x reader #Uvogin #hxh uvogin #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #monster #uvogin x reader

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