#he wants to save the world. you want to save him. you each dangle over a precipice holding each other's hand. one of you falls you both do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellfirenacht · 7 months

Text

Wing Man Part 3

A/N: This fic is all vibes, no plot so it's hard to write lol. I have a few ideas now thanks to the wonderful @crocwork-clockodile and @hellfiredarling 💜

As usual, typos are fixed live and in post lol

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: You really should be trying to flirt, but somehow you and Eddie can only ever talk about Chris Morrison.

5k words

Part 1 Part 2

Steve did not show back up for at least a half hour after he ‘went to the bathroom’. Had you not been in your current situation, you would have made fun of him for being ‘backed up’ or something along those lines.

But in all honesty, you hardly even noticed that he was gone. When Eddie dropped the puck the world had faded into a whirlwind of clacking, yelling, and pitting children against each other. With the sudden death match, Dustin had won. You had taken Mike's place, giving him a condescending pat on the head. He hadn’t been pleased about the situation, but at least it kept him from saying whatever rule-grudge that he held against Eddie.

To your surprise, Eddie had stuck around to watch the match between you and Dustin. You tried not to be too nervous as the match went on, but your freshman friend was your saving grace even as he kicked your ass.

“Eddie’s been the leader of Hellfire for years now.” Dustin said, dropping the puck down and hitting it. “He’s always been the DM.”

“Except for Chris Morrison.” you said.

“Yeah except that guy.” Dustin nodded.

“He started the club, but I made it the merry band of bandits and misfits that it is today.” Eddie said, his hands resting against the side of the table, leaning forward. You’d only been chatting with him and Dustin for a few minutes, but you had quickly learned that Eddie was not the type to stay still for very long.

“You’re gonna get your finger smashed if you keep your hand there.” you said, glancing at how close his fingers were to the smooth surface of the rink. “You’re putting a lot of trust in geometry that this puck isn’t going to crush your hand. It’s already tried to kill me once.” You doubted that the heavy silver rings on his fingers would help at all.

Eddie looked down at his hands and pulled back, just in time for the puck to nearly hit where his fingers had been. “Shit, I didn’t even notice.”

“I notice everything.” You said, not noticing as Dustin smacked the puck at an angle that went directly into your goal. “I notice some things.”

Dustin laughed, and Eddie even grinned at the joke. With that point it was game set and match, or something like that.

“Alright, I’m going to go win some tickets now.” Dustin said, putting the clacker? Paddle? Not-Hockey Stick? Down. You still didn’t know what it was called, but luckily air hockey probably wouldn’t come up again later.

You expected Eddie to leave again, but instead he leaned back against the table, now free to let his fingers dangle without fear of being crushed.

“So you really were interested in Hellfire when you were still in school?” he asked, tilting his head over at you. That same distant and unreadable expression on his face. You really wished that you knew what he was thinking right now.

“Yeah, I saw you guys always having fun so I thought I wanted to try.” you said. “But, you know. Chris Morrison.”

“Forget about Chris Morrison.” Eddie turned towards you, standing upright and looking down at you. How did he feel so tall all of the sudden? How did he keep doing that? What magic switch was he able to turn on and off in his brain to make him go from ‘just a guy’ to ‘hey, I’m in charge here.’? “What made you have an interest in Dungeons and Dragons?”

“The dragons first, and then the dungeons.” It was the first thing that popped into your head, and you immediately realized it was maybe a little stupid and sarcastic. To be fair, you also were a little stupid and sarcastic, but with the way he was looking at you, Eddie wanted a real answer. The look on his face was actually a little funny, the way his whole face fell in annoyance.

Right, he didn’t know you. You didn’t know him. He was still trying to decide if you were some sort of friend or foe. You suspected that if Dustin hadn’t chatted with you so easily through your match with him Eddie wouldn’t have bothered talking to you more.

Maybe you should fire Steve and make Dustin your wing man instead.

He didn’t immediately leave though, which made you assume that you were being given a second chance to give him a real answer.

“Alright, I played a lot of make-believe as a kid.” you said. “Then as I got older, people stopped playing, but I wasn’t ready to be done. Then when I heard about this club where you could play make-believe again, I thought it would let me have that feeling again. I thought it’d be cool to, I don’t know, have people to play with again.”

It was a childish answer, but it was a real one. Everything in your life after middle school had been a steady monotonous stream of ‘work, home, work, school, home, school function, work, home’.

“Hellfire Club isn’t Make-Believe Club.” Eddie said, still staring you down. “Yeah, it’s a fantasy game but we take it seriously. It’s not all princesses and fairy tales.”

Actually, this guy might be getting on your nerves now.

“You’re taking my answer awful personally.” you said, straightening up under his gaze. You didn’t care how intimidating he was trying to be right now, he had pissed you off. “You asked why I wanted to play, I gave you my answer. You don’t have to like it, but there it is.”

He seemed taken aback by your bluntness. He blinked, his round eyes shifting to something else. “You’re right.” he said finally with a subtle laugh. “That was a dick thing to say. I really sounded like Chris Morrison for a second.”

“Yeah, you did.” you agreed. “You always this cynical about people?”

“Well, when you’re the town freak it comes with the title.” he shrugged.

“Does it come with a sash too? Or perhaps a crown?”

“No, unfortunately Hawkins High didn’t have that in the budget this year.”

“You should take that up with the student council.”

“Or City Hall.”

He was smiling at you now, and you hated how that smile was brighter than any of the flashing lights of the arcade. The longer you looked at him, the more attractive he got. God, you were going to kill Steve for delivering something you couldn’t have.

Eddie’s demeanor changed as you two bantered, no longer on edge now. Now that he seemed sure that you weren’t here to cause problems or were just looking to laugh at the freaks, his stance was much more relaxed. You looked him over again, taking advantage of his gaze drifting to where two other members were hunched over an arcade cabinet.

He had long wavy brown hair, and you tried to place how you could have missed that in school. Surely you would have remembered someone like him, right? It felt so much like you were missing something, but you couldn’t place where you knew him. It was going to drive you insane.

“So it looks like I’m done here.” You jumped as Steve appeared behind you. You looked over at him, your face reading with panic at the idea of him ditching out on you now. Yeah, things were going a lot better without him here, and he had not been very helpful-

Okay, maybe he didn’t need to be here to help with your attempt to flirt but you still weren’t exactly eager to be left alone.

Eddie looked between the two of you and you turned to Eddie. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna see him off.” You said.

“Right, yeah.” Eddie nodded. He was on his guard again and you felt bad that Steve’s presence caused that.

Eddie and Steve looked at each other, a tension between the two of them. For five full seconds they just stared at each other with you in the middle, wondering what the actual fuck was going on.

That’s when Eddie threw up his hands over his hand in an imitation of horns and sputtered at Steve who was immediately taken aback. It was so out of left field, and you let out a laugh before covering your mouth and grabbing Steve and dragging him away towards the entrance.

“What was that about?” you asked as you two stepped outside. “And where the hell were you for the past half hour?”

“I was giving you space because you weren’t going to get anywhere with me around.” Steve said, looking back over his shoulder. Eddie had disappeared into the arcade with his club. “He really does live up to his nickname.”

“Nickname? You’re trying to set me up with a high schooler with a nickname?” You sighed.

“Yeah, and you were basically drooling over him the whole time you were talking so, you know, you’re welcome about that.” Steve said. “Everyone called him a freak in school so, Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson.”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about being the town freak.” you said. “Why’s he a freak exactly?”

Steve tilted his head, as if he couldn’t tell if you were joking or serious. “He runs a club called Hellfire, plays that weird game you and Dustin keep talking about, and just- look at him! With the long hair and the chains and metal patches.”

“According to you, I was looking at him.” you snorted. “So he plays games and dresses differently and has taste in music. Doesn’t make him a freak.”

“Right, I forgot you’re a total weirdo who’d be into that.”

“He was your idea!”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. All the things that he would have found off putting to him in high school now seemed to parallel and fit with someone who he now considered a close friend. He’d been wrong about a lot in the past year, maybe he’d been wrong about Eddie too.

“So are you gonna actually flirt with him when I leave or are you just gonna stand there and make small talk?” Steve asked, crossing his arms. “I introduced you two, at least tell me you’re going to put in the effort.”

You winced and glanced back to the arcade, you couldn’t see Eddie but you knew he was still in there.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Steve gawked at you. “This whole thing was your idea and you’re not even going to try?”

“Listen, Steve, I like him. I do. That’s the problem. You actually hit the nail on the head, and he is absolutely my type.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m not his type.” you admitted. “See, I know guys like Eddie. I’ve fallen for guys like Eddie. Funny thing about a lot of male weirdos, freaks, and outcasts, is that they still loooove themselves some popular girls. Girls like that love them because they’re trying to either fix them or piss off their parents. Freak guys don’t like weirdo girls.”

“You’re being the biggest dingus in the world and I think you’re full of shit.” Steve said bluntly. “Nice try, but you’re gonna go in there and flirt with him. Did he actually say that he was into that type?”

“Well, no but-”

“But nothing!” Steve sighed. “Listen, you’re cute, okay? I’ve seen what you look like when you’re not at work.” He gestured to your outfit. “If I took you to a party or a bar I’d be able to help you get at least six numbers by the end of the night.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So why are you so bent out of shape about Eddie?”

“Because you’re picky, and you’re my friend.” It was a surprisingly nice sentiment. “I’m fine dating around while I figure out what I want, but you’re not the same. You need someone who is going to understand what you’re talking about, and he is the only person in Hawkins who would also bite a head off a bat.”

“You know, everyone wants to talk about how Ozzy bit the head off a bat but no one wants to talk about how that whole thing actually happened-” you started.

“Nope. Not me. Don’t tell me, tell him.” Steve cut you off. “I should be telling you that talking about biting animal heads is not the best way to flirt but he might be into it. Just promise me you’ll at least try okay?”

Steve gave you a pleading look, and you couldn’t say no. You didn’t have the heart to. He was right, you’d given up before you’d even tried. Steve went out of his way to hand pick a potential date for you, someone he never would have even bothered talking to before. You had to try.

You breathed in the cool night air deeply, holding it before exhaling slowly. “Alright, I’ll try.” you promised.

“I expect you to tell me everything tomorrow!” Steve said as he started walking towards the parking lot you found yourself following him, your body reacting to all the times you two had parked next to each other at work.

“Yeah, yeah, you get first dibs on any kiss and tell!” you shot back. “After the details you gave me from your dates, I promise I’ll be worse.”

Steve pulled you in and gave you a hug, and you squeezed him tightly in return. You never would have thought that Steve Harrington of all people would end up such a good friend, but you were glad he was there. You two said your goodbyes before he got into his car. You waited until he’d pulled safely out of the parking lot before turning back into the arcade.

Just go in there, crash the Hellfire Club meeting again, and shamelessly flirt with Eddie Munson. Three things, that’s all you needed to do.

You pushed the doors of the arcade open and walked back inside.

You wander around the arcade.

You’re alone.

Shit.

There was no sign of Eddie or any of the Hellfire Club. You were completely alone in the arcade now and there was a pang in your stomach. You had told Eddie you’d be right back, but he was gone. Maybe your comment about still wanting to play had totally fucked over your chance to talk to him more after all.

You made your way back outside, just in time to see a van peel out of the parking lot. Your eyes widened when you saw Dusting looking out the window with an apologetic look and mouthing what you assumed to be the word “Sorry”.

Eddie must have gathered up the club to go somewhere else. You wanted to be fine, you wanted to shrug it off as you had every other time you’d failed to impress a guy, but you felt disappointed. Really disappointed. Sure you’d only talked to the guy for a half hour, most of which was spent talking trash as you all played air hockey, but you’d had fun. More fun than you’d had in a while with a guy, Steve notwithstanding.

It felt like Chris Morrison all over again.

You sighed to yourself and made your way to the car. Of course the second you wanted to try you ended up alone again.

Well, that killed it for tonight. You pushed the rejection out of your mind and made your way back to your own car, thinking about how you were going to tell Steve that you’d blown your chance.

Eddie Munson didn’t know what to make of the fact that Steve Harrington of all people was at the arcade. Popular? Played sports? Someone like him didn’t hang around at the arcade, not under any normal circumstances. The only thing that made sense about him being there was that he was with a girl, one that didn’t match up with the normal type that someone like Steve should be dating.

He had planned on avoiding Steve, choosing to focus on his club rather than antagonize the former king of Hawkins high. Really, he did. But then that shrimp Henderson had made his way over to Steve and his date. The kid already talked about Steve too much as it was, always going on about how cool he was while also dodging questions about how the two had met and become friends. Eddie had long since given up on asking about it, not that he cared. Not that he was jealous that the kid he was growing to see like a little brother already had another older male friend in his life.

That wasn’t Eddie’s style.

But this was Hellfire Club, and Eddie wasn’t about to lose another member to the dark side. Dustin had been looking forward to this rare gathering of the club outside of school, more than usual actually. He’d been wearing that same shit eating grin he always did when he was about to pull some bullshit at the table. Now Eddie knew why.

This little shit was trying to introduce him to Steve. Dustin talked Steve up so much, and now he just happened to be here on a date the same time as Sidequest Day? That was too convenient. Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised that Dustin was trying to bridge his friends together, but he was.

So, when Eddie saw Dustin watching Steve and his date chatting and playing Q*bert, he could have ignored the bait. He should have ignored the bait. But then Chris Morrison’s name was mentioned, and curiosity got the best of him.

Plus how could he ever resist talking shit about Chris Morrison.

So he walked up to the group, fully prepared to make agonzing small talk with Steve for thirty seconds before dragging Henderson away to focus on the real reason he was there. It wasn’t often that everyone had the time or money to come to the arcade like this, and Eddie had been lucky enough to make a special sale that day to some senior from the art department. He didn’t often have spending money for something like the arcade. He’d prefer to go to the movies or get his supply from Rick or buy anything to maintain his guitars, or upkeep of his van. Arcade time with Hellfire was something that happened once a semester at best, with the promise of him giving out advantages during the campaign he was running.

“Henderson is right. Morrison was the biggest asshole that Hellfire has ever seen. Worst DM too.” Eddie said, glancing between Dustin with a warning glare and Steve with a weary look.

He didn’t expect you, the girl playing the cabinet, to be the one to speak up. You knew Chris? This night kept getting weirder. When Eddie turned to Steve, to ask about what he was doing at the arcade, just to appease Dustin, Steve directed his attention back to you.

That made more sense, Steve Harrington wouldn’t be at an arcade on a Saturday night unless there was a girl involved.

When you turned around to face him, he noticed the way your eyes looked him down and up quickly. That was something he was used to with most people in Hawkins. They’d size him up just so that they could try and tear down the freak. There was a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite catch before it turned into one of... disappointment? Discomfort? Shit, it was all the same to him.

Dustin made quick introductions of everyone, and Eddie was surprised when you offered your hand so easily despite the look in your eyes. Well, at least you were polite. It hadn’t even been two minutes and Eddie was already itching to get back to spending time with his club rather than crashing whatever meeting Dustin had clearly planned here.

But he’d be polite, humor the kid for just a second. If Dustin wanted him to meet Steve, then Eddie would be the contrarian and make small talk with his date instead.

You two would have graduated the same year, had Eddie not been held back. Yeah, it was starting to come back to him. He remembered you.

And that was enough of socializing with the upper class for the night. Eddie started directing Dustin back to club activities before Steve spoke up again.

“So, my friend here actually had an interest in Hellfire Club back in the day.”

It could have been left at that, but Eddie was getting more and more irritated over this situation. He looked at you, who looked like a deer in the headlights. Of course, Dustin might have seen something in Steve but he was no different now than he was back then.

“Really?” Eddie said. “And what about our little club was so interesting to you?”

He shot a glare to Steve, but looked down at you with a frown. You’d always seemed nice at school, but he’d made that mistake before. Eddie always liked the groups that kept to themselves and didn’t whisper behind his back or cause trouble for his friends. It was a shame he had been wrong about you.

But when you answered awkwardly about asking Chris to join, there was something in the way you spoke that was genuine. Either you were a really good actress, or you were being serious about it. Eddie might have been the biggest cynic in Hawkins, but he always did have a weakness to cute girls.

The conversation fizzled out quickly, and as much as Eddie didn’t mind talking to you he still wasn’t interested in crashing your date or getting to know Steve at this time. Not when his club started going wild across the room as Lucas was scoring big at a game.

So he turned around and left the two of you alone, running off to see what the jackpot prize was that Lucas had claimed.

For about ten minutes everything went back to normal. He was in the middle of an intense racing game against Jeff, when suddenly he heard Dustin screaming for him, causing his car to spin out and lose spectacularly.

Tonight was not going well at all for Eddie Munson.

Pushing down his irritation, he could hear it in Henderson’s voice that he was about to start trouble again. Of course as he made his way over to the hockey table, there you and Steve were again. Great. Eddie was so excited to be the third wheel during his club’s meet up.

But then Steve disappeared to take a shit. Well, he didn’t say that exactly but it made Eddie feel better to think of Steve having a miserable time in the bathroom. Jealous? No. Not at all.

Maybe a little.

You didn’t seem to like that Steve had left you, and Eddie figured you were uncomfortable without your date around. Dustin only ever talked Steve up, but had never mentioned you to his knowledge.

When the puck went flying towards your face a moment later, Eddie’s eyes widened with shock as you caught it with a laugh. The way you spoke to Wheeler and Henderson was familiar, as if you’d met them before. How did they know you? You were cuter when you were laughing with his friends.

As Eddie watched the chaos of you bantering with his freshmen, his mind wandered to what you would have looked like in the darkness of the prop department wearing the Hellfire shirt. With how easily you got along with Henderson and Wheeler he was sure you would have fit in.

Damn Chris Morrison and damn Steve Harrington.

He snapped out of his thoughts when you spoke up, a glint in your eyes as you handed over the puck.

“What say you, Eddie of Hellfire?” The way you spoke to him, a hint of a laugh in your voice but not in the normal mocking way he’d hear from others at school, made him break out into an unabashed grin as he took the puck.

“Sudden death it is.”

Making small talk with you was easy, and it wasn’t long until Eddie had forgotten about Steve completely as Dustin decided to bridge the gap between the two of you. You were the assistant manager at Family Video, had helped Dustin and Mike with homework on occasion, and were a regular at the Rocky Horror Picture Show that played at the seedy theater on the outskirts of town.

Eddie was starting to like you more the more the three of you chatted. When the topic od D&D came back up, your answer had struck a chord with him.

“I wasn’t done playing.”

Those words would tumble around in the back of his mind for the rest of the evening. They had been honest, raw words. There was a weight to them that he’d carried himself for a long time. Growing up with Al Munson didn’t exactly give him the idyllic childhood that one would see in movies or tv. Play time wasn’t exactly a priority when you were just trying to fucking survive.

He’d challenged your answer, when he knew in his cynical heart that he was the same. Between Hellfire and his band, there wasn’t much else he had going for personal enjoyment. Of course there was time to hang out with his friends and the occasional odd night where he crashed at Rick’s place when his home with Wayne felt too small or cramped.

Eddie wanted to ask you what you’d play, if you ever did have a chance to join a campaign. He wondered if you enjoyed fantasy the same way he did, if you were a fighter, a spell caster, or a healer.

Then Steve showed back up.

Right, you were here with Steve on a date. A date that had way too much fiber and had probably exploded the toilet while he left you hanging for going on forty minutes now. And now Harrington decided that the date was over? Jesus, this guy didn’t know what he was missing out on. Eddie felt for you, he’d been on his share of bad dates in the past too, and bad nights that he wished were dates.

He shook the image of Paige out of his head.

You gave him a smile as you said goodbye. Well, you said you’d be back in a moment but Eddie knew that the night was over. You walked out of the Arcade with Steve, and that would be that.

Sidequest day was always short, with limited spending money between members and the machines eating quarters like candy. Soon his little sheepies were gathered around him again, talking about their winnings and who deserved to get some sort of perk for the game. It was almost unanimously decided that it would go to Lucas, after he’d nearly broken the basketball machine from how fast he had been throwing balls.

Eddie still had a bill burning a hole in his pocket, having spent more time talking to you than playing games. He had to get this weird night out of his mind, and turned towards the group, knowing that he was going to regret this.

“Whoever has any money left, pool it in I’ll take us to get pizza.” He said. This was followed by cheers and a scrambling of pulling out loose quarters, dimes, and even a five that Gareth forgot he had in his wallet. Eddie lead them all towards the parking lot, his eyes scanning the parking lot for you.

You and Steve were chatting by his car and laughing the same way that you had laughed with him before Steve pulled you into a tight hug. Maybe your date wasn’t a bust after all. Eddie didn’t know why he cared, this was only the third time you’d met. You didn’t know him.

Dustin nudged Eddie, that same smug grin on his face.

“Pretty fun night, huh, Eddie?” he said.

“Your plan didn’t work, shrimp.” Eddie said. “I know you were trying to set something up and I’m not interested.”

Dustin looked surprised, and looked like he was going to argue but a sharp glare from Eddie shut him up. Eddie never had an interest in meeting Steve, and it was clear Steve felt the same way, going so far as to ditch his date to hide in the bathroom the whole time. Eddie didn’t know what the kid saw in Harrington but Eddie was less than impressed.

“Geeze, sorry.” Dustin sighed. “I thought you two would get along.”

“You know, a little humility wouldn’t hurt you.” Eddie said before grabbing his shoulder. “Next time you decide I have to meet someone, don’t make it during Hellfire, mk?”

Dustin looked disappointed but nodded as everyone piled illegally in the back of Eddie’s van. As long as Eddie didn’t drive like a madman (a difficult feat) it would be safe enough. He’d put the seats down to haul equipment years ago, and never could get them to come back up. He could fix it if he wanted, but there was never a real reason to.

As everyone got settled, Dustin looked over at Mike with a shrug. The two of them had thought that things were going well between the two of you, but the look in Eddie’s eyes had said otherwise now.

“Maybe she just wasn’t his type?” Mike said, as the rest of the club chatted. “Eddie doesn’t really talk about those things anyway. Maybe he doesn’t even want a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t see the way they were talking. Even if he wasn’t into her like that, they were still getting along.” Dustin sighed and shifted to look out the window as Eddie started up the van. Everyone in the back held on for dear life as Eddie started out of the parking lot.

As they passed your car, Dustin caught your eye just as you stepped out looking dejected.

“Sorry” Dustin mouthed to you.

It had been a bust tonight, but something felt off. Why would Eddie have such a clearly good time talking to you, just to turn around and say he wasn’t interested?

Dustin made a mental note to drop into Family Video tomorrow to talk to you and Steve.

Part 4

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag list: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated

Comments and reblogs help me know that y'all read and enjoy it, which feeds my excitement to write!

#wing man #eddie munson x reader #nacht fic

245 notes · View notes

sctumsempra · 3 months

Text

going insane and i need to infodump about severus snape’s patronus being a doe for a second. i personally don’t think it changed, or lily necessarily influenced it- i think it’s always been a doe, casting the charm in dumbledore’s office was meant to show that he and lily were supposed to be viscerally aligned with each other and he knows he fucked it up and that’s why he’s spent almost two decades trying to atone for what he did. on a representative level, the doe symbolizes peace, protection, and innocence, and no three words could possibly represent severus snape more.

all he wants is peace: a peaceful life for himself, a peaceful world, a peaceful school. everything he’s ever done has been to create as much peace as possible. some of it can be considered misguided from a black and white moral standpoint, but it’s what created peace for himself. for example, aligning himself with the purist views of his housemates made him less of a target for bullying- he’s not a pure blood, and they’d know, and having powerful ambitious students on your side instead of alienating yourself from everyone means you have at least a semblance of protection from harm some of the time. he becomes a double agent for dumbledore to help bring about peace from voldemort’s reign. it might not have been peaceful for him per se, but it was still with the intention of peace in some form. he tries to give other people peace- he takes a vow with narcissa to protect her son because she’s crying and scared for him, and it gives her peace. he doesn’t throw draco under the bus to save his skin when voldemort accuses him of being the elder wands owner, giving draco and narcissa peace even if they weren’t aware. it’s either for himself, or for others.

he’s the most protective teacher at the school- would mcgonagall have thrown herself in front of three kids facing a wolfsbane-less werewolf? would flitwick take the burden of an unbreakable vow to protect draco malfoy from voldemort? would any of the DADA teachers have run towards the sound of a screaming woman? he consistently vows to protect everyone and everything he can. and, leading into his innocence, when he realizes he’s only been protecting harry for him to die, it breaks him.

he’s not necessarily innocent in that his hands are clean and he’s never done anything wrong in his life, but he’s innocent in that he’s naive. he trusted voldemort enough to be drawn into the death eaters, he trusted dumbledore enough to be manipulated into his bidding. it feels like he forgets that dumbledore screws him over constantly, dangles things in front of him and takes them away, makes crude assumptions, and has left him to fend for himself essentially their entire relationship. the times that dumbledore abandons him- physically, mentally, metaphorically- he gets very upset. like it’s new information to him that dumbledore treats him like shit. from an abuse perspective, he probably had to spend his childhood mentally erasing what his parents and home were like so he could feel safe and normal, so the constant ebb and flow/back and forth of his and dumbledore’s relationship is familiar to him. when dumbledore draws him back in with whatever method, he’s right back to behaving as dumbledore wants, doing what dumbledore wants, and believing what dumbledore believes. the times that he remembers that dumbledore doesn’t care that he let the guy who’s tried to kill him or assault go, or that dumbledore thinks he wants only lily saved because he desires her romantically or sexually, or that dumbledore has only been using harry and, by extension, him (as he’s been the one protecting harry) to play the long game of destroying voldemort are the times that he’s emotional in the books. he cries, he’s vulnerable, he raises his voice, he begs and he pleads and he defers. he doesn’t do that any other time, other than when he found harry watching his memories. he trusts and he forgives (or he forgets, or he feels safer pretending he doesn’t care what’s been done to him/how he’s been treated.) a doe is perfect for him. reducing it to something like tonk’s patronus being changed as soon as she’s in a relationship with lupin or that it’s only a doe because of lily evans completely erases his entire way of thinking and behaving and being.

also, in a self indulgent addendum, it’s a very feminine animal, and severus is consistently aligned with femininity. hermione calls the half-blood prince’s writing feminine. he wears his mother’s clothes as a child, and lupin encourages neville to dress his boggart as his grandmother. he’s quiet and docile and tries to be non-violent unless he’s pushed to his breaking point, and even then it’s screaming or crying or getting animated. he’s emotional and frequently painted as hysterical. he gets the “woman character treatment”: to the average viewer who doesn’t think about him long enough to understand otherwise, he only desires lily. the consensus is that he chases her, he only thinks about her in the context of attraction. the line about looking at her greedily is constantly understood to be lust, and not a desire for love or a desire for a peaceful relationship for once in his life (and a relationship that only ever seems to be platonic at that). he even backs off and all but disappears from her life when he’s asked to, while james (the one with the stag patronus, the classic triumphant male character) harasses her and pursues her and behaves in a way that makes his son decades later wonder if he forced lily into a relationship. he’s behaviorally aligned with what femininity in the eyes of misogyny is supposed to be. he keeps to himself, he’s quiet, he sacrifices every bit of himself for students and coworkers and superiors and expects nothing in return, he pushes his students to be the best they can. (i’d say nurtures with my whole chest, but as the narrative comes from harry, we can’t really be sure. in my view, his house won the house cup for several years in a row which was only interrupted by dumbledore awarding a fuck ton of points to his gryffindor prize pony, his classes are seen as high performing and advanced by even dolores umbridge of all people, he only tries to punish students albeit a bit violently after several attempts of getting them to understand why what they did was wrong, which seems to be pretty nurturing in comparison to what other teachers allow and do). whether he’s trans, or had been influenced more by eileen, or he was intended to be deeply complex and contradictory and that meant that he had to have these traits, or any other of the multitude of reasons for snape being an inherently feminine character, it’s there. his patronus wouldn’t be a stag, he wouldn’t be anything overbearing and he wouldn’t be anything aggressive. it doesn’t make sense with his soul and his personality and his life. the peaceful protective innocent/naive doe, however, does.

#severus snape #snape #pro snape #patronus #snape meta #severus snape meta #i’m going insane #i wrote this at work. i couldn’t sit with all of this in my head anymore #he’s the character ever #he deserves the coziest quietest little life ever. i hope he gets it in his next one #he’s so tragic and misunderstood and villainized. i might be crying a little #i could literally talk about him and all of this for hours i just figured i should stop where i was #she’s giving novel

108 notes · View notes

shibaraki · 8 months

Text

TROU NORMAND ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI

tags: GN reader, fantasy au, bakugo is a dragon shifter, desc. animal kill + blood, reader eats meat, alcohol consumption, fluff, courting behaviour, language barrier, hand feeding, unedited sry

wc: 1.2K

The firepit crackled violently in the distance. Your nose wrinkled at the familiar smell of death carried in with the draft.

“Bakugo?” you called, climbing out from the deeper, cramped section of the cave and heading toward the entrance. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, trinkets tied around each individual spike dangling above. Firelight flickered up the walls and glittered amongst them.

Bakugo has already tucked his wings away and settled into his skin. He is beautiful, as both a dragon and a man. Born into the world wearing a golden crown. He is large, in body and spirit, he is all dense muscle and spitfire, with eyes glowing crimson no matter what form he takes.

You’ve not been with him long but since learned his habits. Bakugo only ever took this form to prepare his kills, to carefully parse through the flesh and pick out the bones with lithe human fingers despite not needing to. You study him from the corner, his form muddied in blood and hunched over spilling viscera lost in concentration, and not for the first time, you think dazedly of the implications of that.

“What’s that?” you ask as you start towards him with a damp cloth.

He growls at your abrupt movement in his periphery, dragging the four legged carcass closer to his half clothed lap. His expression shifts. Every muscle pinched under the command of his instincts. “Oh, now you’re acting like a child,” you tell him, tiptoeing around the thin rivulets leaking into the cracks in the cave floor. His pupils dilate and shrink into thin slits, pulsing almost as you kneel beside him. “I’m not going to steal it. Really. Come here”.

A familiar noise reverberates through the empty space. It is a gentle warning. And yet it is inquisitive. Even like this the dragon deigned to use the human tongue. The odd inflections never quite fit in his mouth. Instead you’d speak while he listened and somehow conversation was hardly ever one sided. Never before had you met a person able to convey so much with the quirk of their brow alone, but Bakugo did exactly that, and often.

“Easy. Not so fearsome when you have food all over your mouth,” you turn his head, fingers splayed along his strong jaw, thumb curled over his chin. Bakugo allows this with a slow blink, another chuffing sound stuttering in his chest that he appears inwardly mortified at.

You take the damp cloth and wipe the drying blood from his cheeks. Fractures form and it flakes away, bit by bit. You repeat the notion until he is clean, and long after, just for the excuse to linger.

“There,” you murmur, satisfied as you sit back on your haunches. Your thumb brushed over his jutted bottom lip, pressing into the seam, seeing a flash of razor sharp teeth. “You needn’t hunt for me too, you know. There is a small town by the mountainside I could visit. I’m well enough now”.

By all rights you should have been torn apart in the unforgiving winter. Your memories of that night are hazy. Buried under sleet and snow, as your body had been when the dragon found you. You recall only the instant he took you delicately into his maw and carried you here, where you subsequently woke hours later, tucked into a soft crevice of his hoard.

Your icy heart thawed at his heavy handed kindness. You never did understand why he saved you, but you were grateful. There was nowhere for a person like you to return. So when he never discarded you, ate you or forced himself upon you, you remained.

Bakugo makes another terrible face. His wet fingers smear red streaks around your wrist and he tugs you to his side with the soft reluctance of someone who wants something but doesn't wish to admit they want it. “Okay, okay. I won’t. This is safer,” you concede, leaning into him. Your head tilts on the slope of his shoulder as the tension dissipates and he begins tending to the meat.

He always feeds you first. You accept the morsels one at a time, held to your lips between his thumb and forefinger, chewing it down to fine paste before swallowing. The staring while you eat no longer unnerve you. You merely try not to smile at how proud he looks after every pleased noise you make.

“This is good,” you say. “Do we have water left?”

You miss him the second he moves away, stretching toward a shallow alcove full of well crafted bottles. Bakugo hoarded the strangest things. Unlike the rest, this one in particular is half full. Definitely not water. Regardless he nudges it into your hand and drapes his arm around your lower back. Intricate designs are carved into the glass. Waves, shells, crudely depicted merfolk. You slowly bring the open top to your mouth, breathing in the sharp scent, and take a sip. It tastes of smokey peat fires, cured skins and winter; harsh against your palate and sawing your throat on the way down.

“Gods, that’s—strong!”

Bakugo’s nostrils flared. He withheld a laugh while you coughed, the neutral facade cracking as you playfully swipe at him. The scales smattered around his temples take on an iridescent blush and he grins handsomely. Heat licks at your face. Desire, longing, knot low in your belly and it aches like hunger. You’re certain Bakugo wouldn’t be tactile if he could help it. Over and over his hands have sought some part of your body, as if guided by afterthought, and every time he has looked at his hands in betrayal.

There’s some sick satisfaction in watching him be at war with himself—and in being the cause of it. You're still unsure whether he regards you as a pet to nurse or a true companion, if the there-and-gone touches over the past few weeks held meaning as they do for you. A selfish part of you doesn’t care what it means to him, so long as he doesn’t stop.

You eat in relative silence, sharing the remaining dregs of the—whatever he’d procured on his travels. Rum, you’d hazard a guess. With your stomach full and your limbs loose you slip from his shoulder into his lap, squirming a little as you get comfortable.

“Hey,” you murmured, turning to squash your cheek against his thick inner thigh. Bakugo peeks down at you, poised to take another sip. Hums as you bring his free hand to your head and he begins to pet you. “You’ve been taking care of me, all this time. Why? Doesn’t it burden you?”

You don’t miss the way Bakugo’s breathing hitches. The hand absently scratching at your scalp stilled for only a moment before resuming. He considers your words as he swigs, swallows, grasping for time to formulate an answer. Then he bends, agile spine curved like a bow to bring your faces closer. His eyes are determined, the hue somehow richer than before, and you shrink back from the warm breath that spills out from parted lips.

“No. Mine,” he rasps, nudging his nose against your cheek and your temple, like a beast might nuzzle the palm of their master. The palm crowning your head slips to firmly grip the back of your neck. “Stay”.

An encompassing feeling swells in your chest. Your throat becomes tight. The entire spectrum of human emotion floods to the very tips of your toes and you wonder if you never starved of touch before this simply because you hadn’t known what it meant to be sated.

You lift your chin to reciprocate. Fingers flex at your nape, wanting to keep you still but ultimately letting you rise. With little knowledge of the significance, you bump your noses together and echo, “Yes. Stay”.

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #wrote this while sleep deprived idk #q’d

197 notes · View notes

crypticslytherin · 3 months

Text

Moonlight Confessions || Ominis Gaunt

————————————

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Fem Reader

Summary: At the end of Seventh Year, you decide it's time to finally confess your feelings to Ominis, who had distanced himself from you at the end of Fifth Year.

Word Count: 4247

Hope you enjoy! C:

⚯͛▕⃝⃤ ⚯͛▕⃝⃤ ⚯͛▕⃝⃤ ⚯͛▕⃝⃤ ⚯͛▕⃝⃤ ⚯͛▕⃝⃤

Seventh Year at Hogwarts was drawing to a close, and despite only spending three years at the magical school, you found yourself wishing for more time. However, a glimmer of excitement about the future and life after Hogwarts tempered you. Madam Howin had recognized your passion for magical beasts and recommended you for a post-graduation program. You would shadow a Creature Control Officer for a few months, an opportunity that filled you with hope for the future. The prospect of capturing and rehabilitating dangerous beasts seemed like a rewarding career path, and it made saying goodbye to Hogwarts bittersweet.

Since Fifth Year, things had changed. You had settled into the routine of being a regular student, no longer tasked with saving the Wizarding World from evil wizards and goblins. While relaxing, it also felt somewhat dull. Most of your free time was spent with Poppy, your best friend, still defeating poachers and rescuing beasts. Sebastian remained a friend, though not as close as before. After the events that unfolded, Sebastian, Ominis, and you had grown apart, a fact that weighed heavily on your heart as you reminisced about the good times shared among the three of you.

Ominis had become a lone wolf, withdrawing from others and keeping to himself. Despite your attempts to reconnect during Sixth Year, he brushed you off each time, always preoccupied or in a hurry. It pained you, but you understood his feelings. He harbored resentment towards you for siding with Sebastian after he killed his uncle, and learning about your use of unforgivable curses only widened the divide. You never had the chance to fully explain yourself to him.

It was difficult not to speak to him, especially in classes and shared spaces at Hogwarts. Your eyes would often linger on him, and many nights were spent silently crying behind the curtains of your bed. Yet, as time passed, you realized you had to accept the reality of the situation. Despite classmates whispering about him being a Gaunt and untrustworthy, you always defended Ominis, knowing his true character and the kindness within his heart, regardless of his past.

As the final days at Hogwarts approached, the uncertainty of whether you would ever see Ominis again weighed heavily on your mind.

All Seventh Year students had completed their NEWTs yesterday, and tonight marked the Year End Celebration, a special event exclusively for the graduating class. It was a final celebration before departing from Hogwarts and venturing into the world as graduates. As you woke up in the morning, you stretched beneath your sheets, taking in a deep breath followed by a yawn.

"Good morning, Y/N," Natty greeted from the next bed over. "I was worried you'd never wake up."

You glanced at your friend with one eye, the other still pressed against your pillow. Chuckling softly, you rolled over. The morning sun streamed through the windows of your shared dorm room, casting a warm glow against the red and gold decor. Natty was already dressed in her Gryffindor robes, her legs dangling off the side of her bed as she giggled at you.

Today, you were headed to Gladrags to pick up your dress for tonight's celebration. Graduating from Hogwarts was a momentous occasion, and you wanted to be sure you looked your best. Throwing off your bed quilt, you climbed out of bed and swiftly changed into a grey skirt and white blouse. Robes felt unnecessary now that exams were over, and classes had ended. All that remained was to await your NEWT results and enjoy the festivities.

With a quick goodbye, you apparated from your dorm room to the center of Hogsmeade. Floo Flames seemed pointless now that you had mastered apparition. It was surprising that they waited until Seventh Year to teach this charm; its convenience would have been valuable in the past. Despite its risks, the benefits outweighed them.

Entering Gladrags, the bell on the door chimed, announcing your arrival. Augustus Hill greeted you with a wide smile, his hands clapping together with excitement as you smiled back at him.

"Ahh, Y/N!" he exclaimed, as if he had been eagerly awaiting your arrival all day. "I'm so pleased to see you. Come, come," he motioned with his hand for you to join him behind the counter. You nearly skipped over, the anticipation of seeing your dress making your heart beat a little faster. The two of you made your way into the back room, which was filled with rolls of fabrics, enchanted sewing machines, and nearly anything else you could wish for to create any type of garment.

Augustus retrieved a hanger from a rack in the far end of the room, the dress hidden under a protective paper barrier. He returned to you, carefully beginning to remove the covering.

"Prepare to be amazed," he said with a smile. With one swift movement, the paper was pulled away from the hanger, and you gasped softly as you laid your eyes on your dress for the first time.

The dress was a floor-length gown, flowing and elegant. Made of deep red silk, it was adorned with intricate patterns and details, intercepted with hints of shimmering gold, adding a touch of luxury. The silhouette was graceful and flowing, cascading down into gentle folds. The neckline was modest yet elegant, catching the light and shimmering subtly as the sun poured in through the shuttered windows. It was mesmerizing, more beautiful than you had imagined.

"Merlin," you whispered, approaching it slowly, your fingers tracing along the luxurious material. "This is incredible."

"I know!" Augustus exclaimed. With a flick of his wand, a brown box floated out from one of the shelves and rested on a nearby table. The dress folded neatly into its package, which was then sealed up with a ribbon. "Ta-da," he spoke with a laugh.

"Thank you so much, Augustus. I can't thank you enough," you said, gently lifting the box from the table and clutching it to your chest.

"It was a pleasure, Y/N. That boy is sure to turn his head when he sees you tonight," Augustus said, winking at you.

"What boy?" you responded with a chuckle, warmth spreading through your cheeks, turning them a shade of pink. Augustus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"You know what boy," he replied, his eyes rolling as he laughed softly. "Take care, my dear."

If only he knew that boy would never see this dress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Poppy's assistance, you slipped into your gown. She used her wand to cinch up the back, causing you to feel a momentary tightness around your chest. She giggled softly and adjusted the ties, giving you some much-needed breathing room. Standing before the mirror, your hair elegantly braided, wisps framing your face, you couldn't help but smile at your reflection. You looked stunning.

Once both of you were ready, you made your way to the Great Hall. Other Seventh Years, accompanied by their friends, were also heading there, all dressed in their finest attire. As you approached the doors, the sounds of excitement from within grew louder.

Upon entering the Great Hall, you were greeted by a magical transformation. Enchanted decorations, ice sculptures, and elegant decor adorned the room, creating a magical atmosphere. The floating candles cast a warm glow, illuminating the festivities below. Students were already dancing to the music of enchanted instruments that played on their own. You exchanged a smile with Poppy before turning your attention back to the celebration.

Your eyes scanned the room, reminiscing about Augustus's earlier mention of "that boy." You kept an eye out for a familiar blonde head and hazy blue eyes. There were only so many opportunities to speak with Ominis, even if it was just to say goodbye or wish him luck. This time, you were determined not to let him slip away.

Sebastian stood proudly with the Slytherin Quidditch Team, his boisterous demeanor as familiar as ever. Having been a Chaser for the past two years, he now held the position of team captain. Despite not being a Slytherin yourself, you faithfully attended every game to cheer him on. Sebastian had dreams of becoming a professional Quidditch player, his talent evident with every match. As he told his friends exaggerated tales, his gaze found yours, and he called you over with an enthusiastic wave.

Poppy had already left your side, whisked away by a Ravenclaw companion she had grown close to. Making your way to Sebastian, a sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over you. You had never presented yourself like this in front of your friends, particularly not Sebastian. Your usual encounters with him involved being covered in dirt and blood, clothes torn and tattered from your escapades.

"Y/N!" Sebastian exclaimed, enveloping you in a tight hug as you reciprocated, offering a gentle pat on his back. The scent of liquor lingered on his breath, a clear sign that he had already indulged in the evening's festivities. Chuckling, you pulled away, noticing the short glass in his hand filled with a brown liquid.

"You're really letting loose, huh?" you teased, a playful smile gracing your lips. Sebastian rolled his eyes, his smile unwavering as he swirled the drink in his hand.

"Got to make it a night to remember," he replied, taking a quick sip. His gaze drifted over you, a subtle widening of his eyes betraying his surprise. "Merlin, Y/N... you look... different."

"That's very charming of you, Sallow," you responded, your eyebrows furrowing slightly but still maintaining a smile. "I'm sure you'll make some lucky witch very happy one day."

Sebastian's eyes widened, color draining from his face as he held his hands out defensively. "No, no, no. That's not what I meant. You look... beautiful."

"Only teasing," you reassured, lightly hitting his arm. The color returned to his cheeks as he placed a hand over his heart with relief.

"You... that's evil, Y/N," he joked, laughter filling the air as you glanced around the room once more.

Across the room, leaning against the wall, was Ominis. One foot propped against the wall, arms crossed, his demeanor soft as he gazed around the room. You found yourself staring at him, lost in thought until Sebastian's whisper snapped you out of your gaze.

"Go," he urged, his head near your shoulder as he nodded towards Ominis. "And Y/N... tell him I wish him the best. And that I miss him dearly."

You nodded softly, offering Sebastian a farewell kiss on the cheek. His words resonated deeply; Sebastian had truly missed Ominis. They had been each other's rock, experiencing so much together over the years. Sebastian's devastation at the loss of their friendship, along with Anne's departure, had led to a period of spiraling. Thankfully, you had been there to help pick up the pieces and support him until Quidditch consumed his life in Sixth Year.

Swiftly, you crossed the room, making your way to Ominis. Stopping a few steps away from him, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

Ominis had undergone changes over the years. Older and taller, he retained his slender frame. His blonde hair remained unchanged, but his face had matured, his features becoming more defined. His jawline was strong, his cheeks angular, and his eyebrows sharply arched. His skin seemed like marble, chiseled to perfection by the Gods, and his milky blue eyes appeared even more mesmerizing. Despite his blindness, there was an intensity to his gaze that seemed to see beyond mere sight, delving into the depths of perception. He remained mysterious to those who didn't know him well.

Grateful that he couldn't see you admiring him, you mustered the courage to approach him. His head turned slowly in your direction as the sound of your heels echoed against the floor. Though his arms remained crossed over his chest, his foot gently dropped to the floor.

"Hello?" he asked quietly, awaiting a response.

"Hi, Ominis," you replied, now only a foot away from him. His eyebrows raised slowly, blinking in response as his arms dropped to his sides, his expression unchanged.

"Oh. Hello, Y/N," he responded, turning his head back towards the music.

"Are you... enjoying yourself?" you asked tentatively, unsure how to break the ice. You internally kicked yourself for attempting small talk, knowing Ominis hated it.

"Is that why you came over here? To see if I was enjoying myself?" he asked, still facing the music. Embarrassment washed over you. This wasn't going as smoothly as you had hoped. But at least he wasn't trying to escape.

"No," you responded quietly.

"Well then, what is it?" he asked softly.

"Would you..." you began, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "...dance with me?"

Ominis turned his head to face you, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Taking a small step closer, you gently placed your hand in his, bracing for his reaction. To your surprise, he gently gripped your hand in return. Relief flooded over you at the gesture. Without a word, you slowly led Ominis onto the dance floor, feeling his thumb caress your skin as you moved together.

As the slow, melodic notes filled the air, you and Ominis began to sway together on the dance floor. His hand rested gently on your waist, while your other hand was clasped in his. With each gentle movement, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, as if all the worries of the world had faded away. Lost in the moment, you moved in perfect harmony, savoring the closeness between you. The world around you seemed to disappear as you danced without speaking. As the song came to an end, you both slowed your movements, lingering in each other's embrace, cherishing the intimacy of the dance.

"I've missed you," you said softly, your gaze lingering on his features, each one familiar and dear to you. His smile, as warm as ever, mirrored your sentiment, softening his expression in a way that felt like coming home.

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice carrying a weight of longing that matched yours. The shared moment between you felt timeless, and for a fleeting instant, you wished you could freeze time and remain in this embrace forever, his hands on you, his smile a beacon of comfort.

But as if on cue, the warmth of the moment began to fade, slipping away like sand through your fingers. His smile vanished, and he withdrew his hand from your waist, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... I have to go."

With a suddenness that left you reeling, Ominis hurried past you, his wand casting a red glow to guide his way. You watched him disappear through the Great Hall doors, a sense of urgency propelling him forward, leaving you standing there, suspended in the wake of his departure.

Sebastian's eyes met yours, his silent gesture urging you to follow. With a determined nod, you maneuvered through the crowd, pushing past students until you burst through the doors into the Viaduct Courtyard. The red light of Ominis's wand beckoned from across the bridge, seemingly motionless.

Heart pounding, you raced across the bridge, the echo of your footsteps filling the air. The cool summer breeze brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you closed the distance between you and Ominis.

As you reached him, he sat on a bench, his head bowed, hands cradling his face. Breathless, you came to a halt before him, determination coursing through you.

"No," you spoke firmly, your voice cutting through the silence. "You are not running away. Not this time."

Ominis lifted his head, tears staining his cheeks, his eyes red and swollen. Confusion flickered across your features as you met his gaze.

"You're crying?" you asked softly, a mixture of concern and frustration coloring your tone. How could he cry now, when you had shed tears over him for years?

He stood, wiping his eyes roughly. "Yes, Y/N. I am. Now, leave me alone," he demanded.

"No!" you exclaimed, your frustration boiling over. "I'm not leaving you alone. I've spent two years doing that, Ominis. I'm not going anywhere." Stepping closer, you grasped his hands in yours, refusing to let him push you away.

"Y/N," he began, but you cut him off, the floodgates of emotion breaking open.

"Two years, Ominis. Two years of wishing I could share my days with you, of longing for your presence, of needing you by my side," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you poured out your heart.

"I needed you, Ominis. And I think you needed me too," you said, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air between you. Ominis raised his head, his breath brushing against your face. His breathing was shaky, fingers trembling. "At least let me say goodbye," you whispered.

Ominis swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he blinked slowly. "Y/N," he started, his eyes flickering down before returning to your direction, "After everything that happened at the end of Fifth Year... I was horrified. It all began when Sebastian cast Crucio on you. I couldn't bear hearing you in so much pain." He squeezed your hands a little too tightly.

"But that was my choice," you responded quietly.

"That's not the point. When Sebastian... killed Soloman, I realized the path he had taken. And knowing you were by his side changed things," Ominis said, pain evident in his voice. "As long as you were with Sebastian, you weren't safe. I couldn't stand by and watch you become like him."

"You don't understand, Ominis. After that, things did change. Not the way you might think. Sebastian fell apart without you, without Anne. I was the only person he had left, and I helped put him back together. There's no more dark magic, no more curses, no more dangerous escapades in the middle of the night," you told him, squeezing his hands tightly. His expression softened, and you noticed him biting the inside of his lip. "At the beginning of Sixth Year, Sebastian and I... drifted apart. Just as you and I had. I tried to tell you so many times... but you kept running, refusing to speak to me. I had to give up, give you what you wanted."

"And what is it that you think I wanted?" Ominis asked quietly, his voice firm and unwavering.

You looked into his eyes, searching his face for a hint of emotion. He was hard to read at times, and you began to feel hopeless. You gave your head the smallest shake, slowly releasing his hands from your grasp.

"To be alone," you responded, biting the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes.

"No, Y/N," he responded, shaking his head, a strand of hair falling from his head and draping in front of his eyes. "No one wants to be alone. However, it is best for me. I'm a Gaunt. It's not realistic for me to care so deeply for another. I had to distance myself."

Your heart fluttered softly at his words, a glimmer of hope emerging within you. Maybe there was a chance to turn things around, or so you hoped. "Why?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I know my duty to my family, to our bloodline," he explained, his voice still quiet. "I was never supposed to find love, to care so deeply for another being. I'm to be married after we leave Hogwarts." He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. His confession left you feeling sick to your stomach, regret gnawing at you for not speaking up sooner, though you wondered if it would have made any difference given the circumstances. "Y/N, my love for you ran deep. I was terrified. I couldn't allow myself to be in that position. I knew nothing could ever come of it. And I was aware of how strongly you cared for Sebastian."

You ran your hands over your face, stepping back from him as you struggled to process his words. Silent tears streaked down your cheeks, a mixture of sorrow and frustration consuming you. A part of you wanted to kiss him, while another part wanted to lash out. "What do you mean I cared so strongly for Sebastian?" you asked, your voice rising, the echo of your heels against the stone floor punctuating your words. Halting your movements, you returned to him, gripping the sides of his biceps. "It was never Sebastian. It was always you. Do you know how devastated I was when you pushed me away? How many nights I spent crying myself to sleep?"

Ominis remained silent, appearing uncomfortable and taken aback by your outburst. You scoffed softly, releasing your hold on him once again. "I'm sorry," he finally murmured, his voice barely audible. You placed your hands on your hips, turning away from him.

"I'm sorry," Ominis repeated, his voice carrying a weight of regret. "I didn't realize... I didn't understand the depth of your feelings."

You shook your head, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. "It doesn't matter now," you said, your voice choked with emotion.

"But it does matter," Ominis responded firmly, stepping forward and gently grasping your arm, turning you around to face him.

"No, it doesn't. You're to be married, Ominis. There's nothing more I can say," you replied, attempting to pull your arm from his grip. He held on tighter, refusing to let go, his expression softening as he searched your eyes.

"Tell me that you love me," he said strongly, pulling you closer until you were mere inches apart. "Tell me that you want me. Tell me to run away with you, that you're willing to sacrifice everything for me. Tell me that regardless of everything that has happened, you long for me." His breath brushed against your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of unexpected emotion at his words. They were earnest, serious, and it caught you off guard. With a small whimper, you spoke.

"I love you, Ominis," you admitted, reaching up to run your hand through his blonde strands, causing him to shiver at the unexpected touch. "I have always loved you."

Ominis moved swiftly, his hand finding the back of your neck as he pulled you into a longing kiss. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sensation, his hunger and passion evident as he drew you closer to him. His other arm wrapped around you, holding you tightly as your lips met in a fervent dance. Lost in the moment, you tangled your fingers in the hair at the back of his head, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach as warmth enveloped you. It felt like the world was spinning, the taste of mint and desire on his lips overwhelming your senses. He smelled of clean linen and old book pages, a comforting scent that made you feel safe in his embrace as your other hand traveled up his side.

As Ominis pulled back, the two of you quietly gasped for breath, foreheads pressed together. "Continue," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You released his hair, running your hand along the side of his head until it rested on his cheek. "I want you. I want to be with you," you confessed, pressing your forehead against his a little more. "I don't want to say goodbye, Ominis. I'd run away with you, sacrifice everything, if that's what it takes."

Ominis moved his hand from the back of your neck, gently tracing his fingers along your jawline before cupping your chin between his fingers. Leaning in, he placed a tender kiss on your lips, and you found yourself leaning further into him, relishing every sensation.

As he pulled back, the space between you small enough for whispered words, he spoke softly, his gaze intense. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything. More than what my family expects of me. More than what is considered safe or practical."

You felt your heart swell at his confession, the weight of his words washing over you like a warm embrace. It was a moment you had longed for, a moment of vulnerability and honesty that deepened the connection between you. "If you're serious, Y/N, I will leave with you. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you truly love me."

Your eyes shimmered with emotion as you gazed at him, wondering if he meant every word, afraid that this opportunity might slip away. "I mean it. I can't bear the thought of never seeing you again. I don't want to be without you, especially now."

Ominis smiled, his expression tender as he nodded in understanding. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, trailing soft kisses down your temple and cheek before capturing your lips in a long, tender kiss. "Then you won't," he murmured against your lips, sealing the promise with his embrace.

And in that moment, as you stood entwined in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything. With renewed hope and boundless love, you were ready to embark on this journey together, hand in hand, into the unknown.

#ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x y/n #ominis imagine #ominis x you #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #fanfic #ominis gaunt imagine #Ominis gaunt one shot #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #sebastian sallow #harry potter

109 notes · View notes

biscuitblinkeu · 5 months

Text

Oddly Entranced [3]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2352

ToSumUp: The king begins to put his plan in action. You take Rosie shopping.

A/N: I’m pretty excited to write the next chapter. Meant to post this yesterday. Was gonna write more to ACTUALLY end the chapter but I’ll save it for next ig

“…The surface. A place called New York.”

“The human word,” he stated, face settling into a mask of indifference, anger simmering beneath the surface. There was a low growl in his tone as he spoke, “She’s well aware the human world is forbidden— everyone knows that! I set specific rules and expect them to be followed.”

“Yes, humans are trouble. I’ve tried to tell that girl…”

There’s a silence, pain crossing the king's face for a moment. He’s realized no amount of threatening will stop that curiosity brewing in Rosé’s mind. No matter how many times he destroys her human-made trinkets or forbids her to observe the humans, she would not listen. She was too much like her mother. He wouldn’t allow it. He would just have to lock her up— no, he’d destroy her faith in humans. Trust could easily be broken, and he would get through to her one way or another.

The King settled back down on his throne, shoulders sagged, fingers rubbing his temples. “Bring me my daughters— all three of them. Rosé must be brought home at once.”

“Yes, sir.” The crab made a move to go.

“Wait,” he commanded, making the crab face him again. “Find out where she is and what she’s doing in this…New York. Contact the Shak’s sea magicians if you must, we need Rosé on surveillance.”

“Right away, my king.” Sebastian side-stepped his way out of the sea cave to do as he’s told. He had a bad feeling about this, but he only wished Rosé the best— he wanted her to be safe. He was loyal to Rosé, having been her attendant since childhood, however, if the king commands him he will do as he’s told…

Jennie, temporarily residing in the Atlantic Ocean, was the easiest to find for Sebastian. She was humming a tune as the maid behind her held up a pearl necklace, the mirror allowing her to see. She nodded in approval.

Sebastian stopped at the doorway to her quarters. “Jennie, the king requests your attendance.”

Surprised, a smile appears on her face. “Sebastian!” She swims to him, maroon-colored tail flicking powerfully. “Father wants to see me?” The feline-featured woman repeated. “Very well. But…” She picks the blue crab by a claw, holding him in front of her face. “Is your shell changing color? I remember it being brighter; are you perhaps stressed, Bastian?”

Sebastian gasps, and Jennie lets him sink to the sea floor. “My shell? What about my shell, now? Oh! It’s really changed color; I’ve got to be stressed.”

The princess frowned. “You poor thing, what’s going on?”

“You know your sister’s been running circles around me— that crazy girl. I’m getting too old for this. She’s why the king needs to speak w’you and your sisters.”

Even though he didn’t say which sister, recognition crossed Jennie’s face, and her smile faded slightly as worry flooded her mind; she knew her sister was a bit eccentric, fascinated with humans. She knew her father and Rosé didn’t get along because of it. “Rosé? What has she done now?”

Nothing bad, she hoped.

“Well,” the blue crab hesitated. Sebastian looked at the maids, who were trying awfully hard to not eavesdrop, then at Jennie again. “I…I’ll let the king tell you, it’s not my place to speak.”

“I see,” Jennie nodded. She turned around, expression apologetic. “Thank you, ladies. You’re dismissed.”

The maids left with slight dips of their head, then the two left to see the king.

“Did you ever find out where she lives?” Isa asked, leaning over your cubicle wall, her lanyard dangling over the side. The two of you had convinced your manager to put your workspaces next to each other, claiming you worked harder when you were in close proximity.

You stopped typing and pushed away from the desk, cracking your knuckles. Isa watched you stretch patiently.

You shook your head at her. “I…I still don’t know. She always has this look in her eyes, as though the world and everything in it is so beautiful and new— like she’s seeing all of it for the first time. It just doesn’t make sense,” you murmured. “And when I ask I can’t get any answers because she doesn’t speak— or write.”

Isa sighed. “Maybe something happened to her? Like, I don’t know… memory loss? Trauma? Abuse? She seems like a sweet person.”

You frowned at the thought, thinking about where you first met her. “Yeah, maybe. I hope not, though.”

“So, you’re okay with being at work and leaving her alone at your apartment?”

You thought about it. Are you okay with it? Somewhat. You worried she’ll get into things even though you tried to baby-proof your apartment. You hoped she was able to find the breakfast you made her and the snacks you left out. You wouldn't be so worried if you had just woken her up before you left early in the morning, but thought better of it since she stayed up late watching Netflix. You made sure to explain that for a period of the day she would be left alone— to which she blinked and nodded at, so you assumed she understood— and that you would come back.

You shrugged. “She’ll be okay.”

Hopefully.

You entered your apartment and locked the door behind you, bending over to take off your shoes. Surprisingly, you didn’t hear the television playing, nor anything else for that matter. You wondered if Rosie was sleeping in the guest room, or perhaps left.

A moment later you heard the quick padding of feet against the floorboards, then a flash of blonde hair entered your vision before you were being pressed into something soft and warm. “Wha…?” You felt heat creep up your neck as arms wrapped around you.

(You didn’t understand why your hair and body products smelled so much better on her). “Uhm, Rosie?” You tried to pull back, away from the intoxicating smell of vanilla, but she held you tighter, burying her face in your neck. Her grip was tight, almost as though she were afraid you would slip away from her.

Oh.

A feeling of regret prickled your heart, and instantly, you knew you should’ve been clearer on when you were going to come home. There was a chance she was distracted when you told her, or that she genuinely didn’t know what and where your work was, and it made her think you left and were never going to come back. The latter doesn’t seem so far-fetched, considering that awed look she has in her eyes most of the time.

Hesitantly, your hand came up to her hair, petting it. Her grip tightened on your coat, and she finally looked up. Your hand paused when you noticed there were tears in her eyes, a subtle frown playing on her lips.

She panicked when she woke up and realized you weren’t home, chest constricting at the thought she’d be all alone in this world again. She tugged on your shirt, her eyes conveying questions. Where were you? Where did you go? Why did you leave?

Oh, God. You felt even worse.

“I’m so sorry I took so long to come back, the roads were bad and— well, you were probably waiting awhile, weren’t you? You don’t have to cry, I’ll always come back.” You said, then wondered if it was something you could keep true. Nonetheless, you didn’t take it back.

Rosie blinked at you, her lips settling in a thin line. Her hands flexed on your shirt, and she raised a brow, non-verbally asking “promise?”.

You smiled. “I promise, and, if for any reason I have to leave longer, I’ll tell you beforehand— and sometimes you can come with me, okay?”

Rosie nodded slowly, releasing her grip on you. She waited till you took your coat off and followed you into the living room, seemingly wanting to be in your presence.

You were relieved to see the omelet you made her was eaten— the snacks weren’t touched however. You put the plate in the sink, stealing a quick glance at Rosie. She was hugging the couch pillow, looking at you.

“Hey, want to go out? I know it’s usually the time you take a nap, so if you don’t want to, that's fine. I just thought you might want to get out of the apartment for a little,” you rambled.

Rosie perked up, lips tugging up into a small smile as she nodded. It would be nice to see more of this world.

That was all you needed to confirm her agreement. “All right, we’ll go.” She scrambled down from her spot on the couch, already heading to the door.

You eyed her legs, then shook your head with an amused laugh. “If you want to go you’ll have to wear pants, I don’t want you getting sick.”

She froze, already halfway across the room. Slowly, her gaze shifted towards yours, to her legs, and then her lips parted. Her mouth opened and closed - like she was forming words, yet couldn’t get the sound out, before she nodded dejectedly. Okay…

You stepped towards her, putting your hands on her shoulders to steer her to your bedroom. “It’s only for a few hours. Once we finish our activities, we can come back and you can take them off, all right?”

She huffed, and you took it as a yes. She sat on your bed as you dug through your drawers, pulling out a gray sweatshirt with matching sweatpants, and socks with avocados on them.

When you held them up, her nose wrinkled, so with a laugh you turned around with socks with a few cats on them. She had no negative reaction so you left it.

“Here, you can wear these. It’s still cold out because it keeps raining, so these will keep you warm.” You laid them on the bed next to her. “Oh! I have hair ties, just if you wanna put your hair up…” you rummaged through your dresser for them. You turned around with a white scrunchy and a regular, black hair tie as options, only to go still in surprise.

She already started to pull her shirt off above her head and you held your hands up, frantically telling her to stop. “It’s not good for you to change in front of me— even though you may be comfortable with it— we don’t really know each other well, and it’s a little embarrassing. You’re…” Oh, she’s beautiful. But you wouldn’t say it to her face and make things weird. That glimpse of her toned stomach caught your attention, and you bit your lip nervously as a warmth crept up onto your cheeks. God, you really are hopeless, aren’t you? (Pretty people are your weakness) Stop staring already.

“Look, I’ll be out in the living room, just come out when you’re done, kay?” After a singular nod from her, you closed the door behind you and left her to get dressed.

Rosie stared at the door for a few more moments after you left, a blush appearing on her own cheeks. She made you flustered just then, didn’t she? A grin pulled at her lips. She didn’t know humans were so expressive.

About 10 minutes later she entered the living room. You looked up from your phone, smiling softly at her. Although she looked adorable in your clothes, it was clear you needed to get her some of her own. She had a taller figure than you and though the sweatpants looked baggy on you, they were fitted for her.

She held the scrunchie and a brush up to you, looking at you expectingly. You laughed lightly, nodding at her, and brushed her hair into a neat ponytail. Then, clad in puffer coats, you left your apartment.

The streets, wet and filled with noise, were something you were used to. Rosie, however, would flinch every once in a while because of a car honk or yell from a bypasser. She stayed almost pressed against your side, wide, curious eyes taking in the scene before her.

You let out a puff of air, breath turning into fog, as you contemplated on where to go shopping. New York had no shortage of places to eat or shop, it was just hard to choose which.

You spotted a clothing store and headed there.

“You can pick out anything you like,” you told her. It’s a bold statement, things were getting expensive— but you prepared for this. It’s not the first time. “I’d like you to have some shirts, shorts, and underwear.”

The first time you went broke after taking a homeless mom and her child out shopping, you cried. (They were happy— broke people— tears, of course). Since then, you’ve had a card specifically reserved for your “adoptions,” Issa calls it. She thinks you're crazy because you have a card you voluntarily put money on for other people.

So if Rosie wanted to buy a third of the store…you would potentially have enough.

She blinked at you. Anything?

The first piece of clothing she picked up was a navy blue shirt, cropped. Then, a few hoodies with designs on them, and three pairs of shorts. Some baggy jeans, tops, a pair of shoes, etc.

You couldn’t help but notice that after each item she picked up, she would glance at you. You wondered what she was thinking.

“Is this all you want?” You asked. The total amount of items was way less than what you expected.

She nodded, looking bashful. It’s more than enough. Thank you.

“Okay, then.” You headed to the register, putting her stuff on the counter for the two workers to scan.

“Will this be all?”

“Yes,” you answered, pulling your card out.

“Do you have a rewards card with…” He trailed off, looking at Rosie. “Us?” You saw his face turn red and he kept stealing glances at her as he scanned. The girl next to him was staring too.

You shook your head, you might’ve stared like that too if you had met under different circumstances.

Would you like to continue?

#biscuitblinkeu #blackpink x reader #fanfic #blackpink #fem reader #rosé x reader #rosé x fem!reader #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung x fem!reader #the little mermaid.biscuit

79 notes · View notes

nomizombie · 4 months

Text

Picnic with boyfriend!König x GN!reader ... 🥪🌿🌻

[SFW/Fluff/Wholesome] ; a little hiking, piggy back rides! making flower crowns!! picnic obviously, sandwiches because they are my favourite food, krapfen because i love fruit jam!!!! gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n :>

[A/N] ; once again another tiktok inspired me

“König..? How much longer?” You croaked from behind him. The two of you had been climbing a hiking trail for the last half an hour. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Just a little longer!” He called out in front in that familiar accent you'd grown to love.

“I really don't think I can go any further..” you stopped, panting as you watched your boyfriend saunter ahead of you, carrying a basket full of baked goodies and tupperware sandwiches.

He turned back when he realised he could no longer hear the crunching of leaves and sticks behind him.

“Schatz..? It's only a little farther… Come on.” he walked up to you, bending down to look at your face.

You shook your head, still a panting mess.

“Ah…” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought for a moment before an idea struck him. He dropped the basket down onto the dirt.

“Oh! Schatzi. Idea. Climb onto my back.” He grinned at you wildly.

“Climb... your back?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just do it!” He nudged you, turning around and kneeling so you could reach.

“Are you sure? I must be heavy I mean…”

“Oh don't say such nonsense! Hop on, ja?” He tapped his back.

You contemplated for a moment.

“Come on, I'm double your size. You're like an ant to me.” He said, reassuring you.

That sure helps.

“Wow. Gee, thanks.” You spoke flatly before placing your hands on his shoulders and hoisting yourself onto him. Once you were comfortable, he straightened his legs, raising you up in the air.

“Holy shit-“ is this how he saw the world every day? No wonder he walks over you so often.

“Like the view?” He smirked at you before picking the basket back up.

“Youre like… a total giraffe!” You laughed. Your feet dangled off the ground, resting by the sides of his hips.

“Ready?”

You happily hummed in response.

He chuckled and continued up the trail. It was only a few more minutes before you and him finally came upon a breezy grass clearing.

“Oh my god, its... breathtaking.” You beamed, feet finally touching on the soft lush grass.

He smiled at you before unpacking your little woven picnic basket.

“I made some Austrian goodies — and sandwiches of course, since you like them so much.” He spoke, muttering the last part quickly.

He laid down the blanket, a soft red and white checkered blanket with flower accents. Then, he retrieved an assortment of utensils and cutlery, white porcelain bowls and plates, and lastly but not least, a tupperware stack of your favourite triangle-sliced sandwiches.

“You must wait for the Austrian goodies. I want to save them for last.” He flashed a boyish smile at you before handing you a bottle of his favourite sparkling water.

You took a sip, letting the bubbles sit on your tongue as you took a long inhale of the spring air. Nothing could be better.

You picked at the grass, plucking a couple of daisies from where you were sitting.

"Say, König, have you ever made flower crowns?" You asked him, rolling the stems in between your fingers.

"Flower crowns? Nein.."

"Really?!" You stared at him widely, "Never?" You asked again.

"Never...?" He said, a little confused.

"Oh. My. God! I'll make you one this instant!"

You got to work immediately, carefully threading the daisies through each other until you had a sizable loop. One that you know would fit the massive skull of your boyfriend.

"Here. Try this one." You beamed at him, passing the crown into his hands.

He carefully placed it on his head until it fit snugly against his fluffy hair.

"Ta...da?" He smiled awkwardly at you.

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating.

"You look so adorable!" If only you could take a picture right now.

"I wish I could save this forever." You sighed. König hated taking pictures. He would absolutely smash a phone into pieces (and has) if someone refused to delete candid photos.

"Like a photo?"

"Yeah. It's alright though! I know you don't like them..."

He grinned at you.

"I think I can make an exception for you." He reached into his backpack, pulling out an old polaroid camera.

"This one is too blurry to have any good photos." He explained.

"You're really letting me...?" You asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

"Ja. Go ahead."

Your hand immediately shot for his, yoinking the camera.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" You hugged him tightly. Finally, a photo of your boyfriend, even if it would be hardly intelligible, you'd take what you can get.

You raised the camera up, making sure every centimeter of his familiar face was in frame.

"Ready? 3, 2, 1, cheese!" The camera clicked, whirred for a few seconds before spitting out a small black polaroid.

You eagerly pulled it, shaking it as quick as you could. The picture came out blurry and grainy, but you could make out his crooked smile and squinty eyes just fine.

He laughed at your eagerness.

"You wanted photos of me that bad?"

"You think I didn't? I can't get enough of your smile." You grinned.

Pink bloomed on his cheeks at your words.

"Is that so..." He averted his gaze, embarrassed and red. You giggled at his response. How boyish.

Before long, the two of you finished the sandwiches.

"Close your eyes!" He chuckled, waiting for you to cover your face with your hands.

Then, he slowly revealed the plastic box, popping the lid off and cutting you a slice.

"Okay... now... open!"

Your eyes blinked back open. You looked at him before your gaze slowly trailed down to the warm, sweet-smelling dessert in front of you.

"I made Krapfen." He explained meekly.

"Oh my! König! You baked this?" Your eyes widened, taking in the plate of assorted powdered treats.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well... I did with my Oma, but ja..."

You rushed to take a bite, picking one up and eagerly digging in.

He covered his face with his hands, staring at you through his fingers, waiting for your reaction.

You hummed and chewed as the sweet filling burst in your mouth. Apricot jam. Very delicious.

"It's delicious!" You said muffled.

"...Really?" He lowered his hands, sparkles in his eyes.

"Mhm! It's just the perfect sweetness." you continued chewing, sucking your fingers with a pop once you finished.

"You're a great baker, big guy."

He shrunk at your words. The nickname always made him feel so... flustered.

"Danke..." He spoke, looking down at his lap.

The two of you laughed until the sun dipped below the horizon and you were surrounded by a glowing sea of fireflies.

tysm for reading!! im a sucker for anythign bf könig related...

#fanfic #fluff #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig fluff #gender neutral reader #könig x y/n #gender neutral y/n #könig #boyfriend!könig #°˖ ⊹ ꒰✒️꒱ ♡#. ˚₊‧꒰ა 🧟🧠 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

73 notes · View notes

fariesoiree · 5 months

Text

LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you’re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#partially edited #didn’t edit the smut bc i can’t read my own smut #it makes me CRINGE #but it’s done c:#may come back and edit it laterrr #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

66 notes · View notes

bandaged-writer · 2 years

Text

𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗪𝗘 𝗚𝗢 || 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨

pairing. pm boss! dazai x reader

genre. beast au, angst

warnings. major character death, suicide, implied prior suicides

words. 1k

summary. dazai saw the end of the line for the both of you. "until we meet again, belladonna."

note. i'm an absolute sucker for the beast au and all of you have to suffer the consequences

"The only regret I have is that I will never get to read the novel you will write," Dazai sighed into the night sky. Below him, Yokohama's city lights twinkled with life bustling despite the late hour. The stars and the moon shine down upon him when he had fulfilled his purpose in this lifetime; to take Mori's place as the Port Mafia's boss and make sure that Odasaku would take his place in the Detective Agency.

A wistful smile graced his lips as he took a step back into the arms of certain death and for a brief moment, he had found peace in his rise and imminent fall. No longer would he have to play the cards of the antagonist of a story he had written himself, and yet, it had always been that way. The story of his life was haunted by the antagonist that he had painted himself out to be.

Such relief was of short duration as a pair of hands grabbed his wrist. He stopped falling.

"[Name]..?" Disbelief wrapped itself around Dazai's throat like a fine wire.

Tightly, your hands grasped his wrist. Face red and your body hanging over the edge, held by a mere thread, you called out his name in agonizing tones of sorrow and grief. "Dazai! Don't die, again! I'm begging you..," you trailed off. Tears rolled down the apples of your cheeks and dropped onto his face. "This once..live with me."

How cruel this world was that he created. As Dazai had swung the pen, he had calculated the risk of including you in the world in which he wanted nothing more than his dearest friend to live, write his novel and live the life he was once robbed of. Even for you, Dazai had written a fairytale of a life with a lover who could love you like he never could, a job you liked and all the smaller things in life you had always appreciated.

Not even Dazai could've predicted that he was rooted so deeply in your heart that you would overcome the power of the book he had made his own. Against all odds, against all the words he had squeezed into a single page, you had shattered his plan from start to finish. All he wanted was to die without causing trouble for anyone, but even in a different lifetime in which he was the enemy, the boss of the Port Mafia, he caused you nothing but heartache.

Dazai could feel it in your tears that dampened his face.

"Belladonna," he said with a smile upon his lips, "would you please let go?"

"How do you expect me to let go, huh?!," you screamed at the top of your lungs until your voice cracked. Pulling all your might together, you tried your best to pull Dazai back on the rooftop, but physical strength was never your forte. If anything, your feet slid two steps towards the edge whenever you took a step forward.

Huffs of air escaped your lips. "I don't care what world we live in! It won't change my feelings for you, you dumbass! You can't just leave me here! I need you!"

Dazai looked at you with widened eyes. Nothing but pain he caused you and you still declared your love to him like it was the first and last time and judging by the way you were struggling to save his life, it really was the first and last time he'd get to hear you say those words. His feet dangled in the air, his body jolted each time you'd stumble in despair and with fear in your eyes.

What were you so afraid of? Losing him? You should be glad to get rid of a person as twisted as he was.

"If you don't let go, you will die." Dazai saw the tips of your shoes. Silently, he basked in your touch even though it was stricken by fear, anxiety and everything that could cause one's heart to stop. "You don't want to die, do you?"

And then it hit you. You didn't want to die. But you refused to live in a world where Dazai never annoyed you by messing up your hair. A world in which he would never keep you in bed for five more minutes, a world in which he would never give you his favorite book filled with his own thoughts and marked lines that touched him.

"You're right. I don't want to die." The strength in your arms and legs was running thin and was enough for one last pull. You'd let this last tug of war decide your fate; or maybe this was merely wishful thinking, a dot of hope that you'd make it and hit Dazai over the head real good. "But I refuse to let you be the only one who dies tonight!"

Dazai looked at you with wide eyes as you pulled him up towards the edge, lungs out of breath and sweat coating your delicate hands. If you hadn't been so weak from all the prior pulling and tugging, then maybe you could've made it. Yes, Dazai thought you genuinely could've saved him, but you were weak.

And so it happened that Dazai's weight pulled you over the skyscraper's edge with a yelp slipping your lips. But even so, you never let go of his hand even though he could've begged you to do so. Perhaps, he had wanted to see you one last time and die by your side like he always used to say. Perhaps this was the benevolence of fate that bound your lives and death together like a rope.

"I'm sorry," you muttered as the air whipped against your face and pushed your hair out of your face. Dazai pulled you flush to his body, a content smile resting on his lips as he held you impossibly closer and fell towards certain death with you.

You clung to him. "In the afterlife, I vow to find you again.

Dazai saw the end of the line for the both of you. "Until we meet again, Belladonna."

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

440 notes · View notes

dreamy-jaeger · 1 year

Text

I Know the End | Ch. 2

Zombie Apocalypse!Au, Older!Grumpy!Eren x Sunshine!Reader

Content: Reluctant traveling companions to lovers, Slight age gap, found family, eventual smut so Minors - DO NOT INTERACT.

Chapter Summary: As the night continues, everyone gets to know each other just a little bit more.

Masterlist

A/N: omg chapter 2 is here!!! idk if I’m going to be able to keep up with a weekly release so don’t get too comfortable hehehehe, but i had this chapter all ready to go so i thought, why not post it! I hope you enjoy!! I want to thank the beautiful wonderful fantastic @emepe�� for beta reading this (as she does for literally everything i write) she is a genius so if you haven’t already please check out her wonderful blog :)))

chapter 2

Eren’s P.O.V

The cabin was quiet. Not suspiciously quiet. But it was the first quiet afternoon that Eren had witnessed in years. These days you were lucky to go even one minute without hearing the horrors of this world. And now here Eren sat, getting whole hours filled with those sweet, silent minutes. Save the interruptions that were gifted from the crackling fire he had started up in the stone fireplace and the occasional creak of the floorboards that filtered in through the kitchen door, no doubt coming from the stranger that had infiltrated their refuge.

It was safe to say that Eren was reluctant to let this woman stay the night. Which was the nice way of putting how he felt about it. He was so close to ending her life. To rid himself of yet another burden. But something stirring deep in his stomach forced him to hold back. Maybe it was the idea of murdering a woman who did nothing more than help them. Or maybe it was the words she used. Or the way she felt under his arms…

Or maybe, he didn’t want to be stuck with her damn dog if he did kill her. Surely Gabby would’ve made him keep the thing, not wanting her to be without an owner. And no matter how many different endings to this encounter he had thought through, whether the woman stayed alive or not, he knew that the dog was now a nuisance in his life. At least for the time being. Confirmed by the way the dog sat up straight, posted in front of the door, her eyes trained on him from the other side of the room.

“Fucking creepy ass dog.” He muttered under his breath as he stared back from his spot on the couch. His arm outstretched on the back of the furniture, his knees spread, giving barely any room if someone had wanted to sit next to him.

“What was that?” Gabby asked, her eyes flicking up from the comic book in her hands, her legs dangling off the side of the plush armchair that she had perched on the moment that Eren gave her the signal that they were in the clear.

“Nothing.” Eren told her. The young girl narrowed her eyes at him. Surely knowing he had more to say about the situation they found themselves in. All these months together, from the moment he found her abandoned by her own group, she had found a way to read through the rough interior he had built up over the years. She opened her mouth to call him out on his bullshit, something she had a knack of doing, but before any snarky words could leave her lips the kitchen door swung open.

“Good news, Eleanor, these people had a dog.” Y/N grinned as she practically skipped into the living room, various cans collected in the crooks of her arms.

Ellie finally stopped her staring contest with Eren, bounding up to her owner and jumping at the sight of food.

“Nothing for humans unfortunately.” She told the rest of the room, setting the cans she collected onto the dining room table that sat in front of the window overlooking the meadow. “I think someone might’ve broken in through a window or something. Raided through this place and took all the good stuff”

“That’s fine.” Eren said, “We have our own rations.”

“Good, ‘cause Ellie doesn’t like to share.” She teased, turning towards the backpack she discarded by the front door, procuring a metal dog bowl from its confines. Eren rolled his eyes as Gabby snickered into the pages of her comic book.

A flash of silver glinted throughout the room, Y/N’s knife reflecting light gifted by the fire as she punctured the can of dog food. Scooping out the entirety of its contents, the sludge plopped into the bowl, sounding completely unappetizing to anyone who wasn’t a dog.

“Eat up, sweet girl.” Y/N cooed softly as she pushed the bowl closer to her companion, who dug into the food without hesitation. Eren didn’t even realize he was watching her until she spoke again. He quickly averted his gaze to the fire, not looking up until he felt her presence shift into the empty armchair that sat directly in front of the couch. He chanced another look at her. Luckily she was preoccupied with another can she must’ve gotten from her backpack, the label advertising the Sweetest Peach You’ll Ever Eat.

“Do you want some?”

Eren stared too long. She held up the can with a raised eyebrow, as if that was what caught his attention.

“No.” He said curtly, looking back at the fire.

“How about you?” The woman turned her attention towards the kid.

“Are those peaches?” Gabby sat up straight, her interest piqued. Comic forgotten as it slid to the floor.

“They sure are.” She laughed, “You interested?”

“Fuck yeah!” Gabby exclaimed, greedily snatching the can from Y/N’s outstretched hand. She didn’t bat an eye at Gabby’s abrasiveness. She simply laughed, sitting back in her seat as she watched the teenager indulge herself. Eren had to give her props. He definitely wasn’t as forgiving when he first met her.

“Don’t fucking swear.” Eren grunted towards the girl.

“Such a double standard.” She said through a mouthful of peaches, passing the can back to Y/N and rolling her eyes in the process. “And you know how I get around peaches.”

“You like them?” Y/N asked, interrupting any snide remark Eren had, tilting the can towards her lips so she could have a taste herself.

“They’re my favorite.” Gabby told her, crossing her legs beneath her, the leather surface of the chair squeaking as she did.

“Mine too.” Y/N smiled at the girl after she swallowed. “I have a couple of cans if you wanna take one.”

Gabby’s eyes lit up, her mouth opening to express some form of gratitude. Eren interrupted her before she could.

“Are you sure you wanna give up your supply like that?” He asked her, eyes narrowed. Y/N raised a shoulder in a half shrug.

“Why not?” She responded, “I have plenty where that came from. It’ll lighten my load.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Gabby piped up, seemingly remembering her manners in a matter of seconds and perhaps finding fault in her eagerness to take someone else’s rations from Eren’s question, “Food is a hot commodity these days.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Y/N assured her, “Besides with any luck I won’t have to worry about food for much longer.”

“What, are you planning some sort of suicide?” Eren deadpanned. Gabby’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening at him in disbelief. He didn’t notice her warning stare, his eyes trained on the woman in front of him.

“I was thinking murder-suicide.” The woman smirked without batting an eye, “Much more classy, don't you think?”

“She’s kidding.” Gabby laughed nervously as she noticed Eren’s jaw clench, and then in a hushed tone towards Y/N, “You’re kidding right?”

“I’d be dead if I weren’t, wouldn’t I?” She responded, nodding towards Eren’s hand, which hadn’t moved from the gun that sat on his waist the minute he had sat down. “I think your friend might have a sense of humor, after all.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Eren murmured, flexing his hand over his gun, making sure the woman noticed.

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Y/N articulated, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“As opposed to your cynicism?” Eren retorted. “You know I’m surprised that you made it this far, with an attitude like that.”

“Oh and you survived on what?” Y/N questioned, “The stick up your ass?”

“Okay!” Gabby interrupted, jumping up from her seat, garnering the attention from everyone in the room before a full on shootout transpired in the small cabin, “Let’s change the subject.”

“Why won’t you be needing your food?” Gabby then asked, sitting back down on the chair, her feet planted properly on the floor this time, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

“It’s where I’m headed.” Y/N explained, “I heard there’s a safe zone in Shiganshina. They have food, walls… everything.”

“You really believe that?” Eren scoffed, crossing his arms, “Every government sanctioned safe zone was torn apart within a week of this starting. You’re not going to find anything.”

“That's the thing, it's not the government.” Y/N replied, making it a point to ignore the rudeness in his tone. “This one was made by people. People just like you or me. Remember what I told you? The best things that happen are when we come to work together. It’s the best chance of survival.”

“How do you know this place even exists?” It was Gabby’s turn to question her, though she had far less skepticism in her voice than her older counterpart. It even sounded like there was a hint of hope in her question.

“Word of mouth.” Y/N said, a tad too vaguely for Eren’s liking. She seemed to have noticed his disinclination when she continued on. “It’s not much to go off of but it’s better than just wandering around out there trying to find new ways not to die.”

Silence fell over the room at her unexpectedly morbid choice of words, a contradiction to the usual carefree demeanor that they had gotten used to during the short amount of time they had spent together. Y/N was the first to speak up again.

“I think that safe zone might be the only chance to actually have a future.” She said softly. “If you want to join me?”

Gabby looked at Eren, something flickering behind her eyes that gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“We’ll take our chances.” He said simply, hoping that the finality of his words would end the conversation.

“You really want her to grow up like this?” Y/N asked, taking Eren by surprise. His eyebrows knitted together, letting the question hang in the air. He was a little pissed off that she was acting like she knew what was best for the kid, as if she had any right to put in her two-cents. But what ticked him off even more was that she might be onto something.

Sure, the two of them had made it this far. They were used to the lifestyle, coming and going and never truly having a place to call home. Surviving was second nature. And Eren seemed to have a certain knack for it. But even he knew that their luck would eventually run out. And he couldn’t keep both the girl and himself alive forever. Maybe this offer that was being handed to him so effortlessly, was something worth taking.

“Like I said, there's a future there for her.'' The woman spoke up, pulling Eren away from his thoughts. Then added, with a teasing tone, “And who knows, maybe there’s one for you too, old-timer.”

“Old-timer?” Eren scoffed through Gabby’s laughter that pierced the room. Though he was slightly grateful for the distraction from making any big decisions. “I’m not that much older than you.”

“I’d say you’re at least a decade older than me.” Y/N said, trying to hide her grin. “Give or take a few years.”

“I’m thirty-two.” Eren snapped, weirdly becoming defensive over his age. Something that he had never felt the need to do before. It was as though he needed to prove something to this woman, who was now staring at him with an amused expression.

Y/N clicked her tongue in feigned disappointment, “Four years off.”

“How old are you?” Gabby asked, clearly too lazy to do the math. Even if Eren had been taking the time to teach her throughout the quiet moments of their journey. Though, she did always hate when he forced her to answer complicated math questions while they traveled through the countryside. She would complain about why she would ever have the need to know multiplications when they should be focused on surviving. Eren always argued that it was best to keep a sharp mind.

“Twenty-six.” Eren answered for her.

“You must’ve been young when this whole thing started.” Gabby said, thoughtfully.

“I was eighteen.” Y/N shrugged, “Not as young as you were, I’m sure.”

“I was six.” Gabby confirmed, her voice small, her gaze finding its home on the toes of her boots.

Eren watched as Y/N’s eyes softened towards the young girl. It was obvious what she must have been thinking. That six was far too young for anyone to survive in this world. That there must be some unimaginable horrors that she must have seen for her to be alive today. A subject Eren knows all too much about since getting to know the girl. Though he found that all out by happenstance and context clues. He wasn’t the type of man to pry into someone else’s backstory. And it seemed that Y/N was the same way. Any question she might’ve had was kept to herself as she glanced over at Eren, their eyes meeting. An unspoken sense of understanding bouncing between their irises.

They were interrupted by the sound of Ellie’s claws clicking against the wooden floor.

“Finished eating?” Y/N said to her dog, reaching out her hand to pet her head as she expected Ellie to stop at her side. Strangely enough, the dog barely glanced her way, she just padded along, not stopping until she jumped on the couch, turned in a circle to find the most comfortable position and then slumped down with a huff next to Eren, who stiffened at the dog’s presence.

“Traitor.” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. Though she seemed unsurprised when Ellie chose to sit by a stranger they just met rather than her.

“I think she likes you.” Gabby laughed.

“The feeling is not mutual.” Eren asserted, his voice low like he was being acquainted with his worst enemy. Both Y/N and Gabby laughed, not realizing he was serious. Or maybe they did and that’s what made it so funny.

“She’s always been like that.” Y/N told them, turning back to her forgotten peaches.

“Like what?”

“She finds the person who likes her the least in the room and then sticks to them like glue.” Y/N explained, “She was like that with my dad.”

“Your dad didn’t like her?”

Y/N’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Nah, he only pretended to hate her. Deep down I think he really loved her. He was secretly a big old softie. I think Ellie can sense stuff like that.”

“If you are insinuating that I’m a ‘softie’...”

“I don’t know, I think she might be onto something.” Gabby giggled.

“Don’t worry, I’m not insinuating anything.” Y/N said, lifting her hands up in reassurance, “Though the dog is never wrong…”

“Okay, I’m done with this.” Eren chided, standing up from his seat on the couch, Ellie’s head lifting up in curiosity as he did. “I’m going to check for potential points of entry. You two would be smart to find something useful to do.”

“Back to business.” Gabby grumbled, rolling her eyes as he crossed the floor. His heavy footfalls caused the cabin to creak and groan under his boots.

“I saw that.” Eren snapped before disappearing into one of the random doors that led to rooms unknown.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Is he always like that?” Y/N asked, nodding her head to the door that Eren just left through. Gabby looked towards the direction in which she gestured, an indignant sigh escaping her lips.

“Pretty much.” Gabby responded, slumping in her seat, not at all taking Eren’s orders seriously.

“How can you deal with all that?” Y/N questioned, holding out the can of peaches towards the younger girl. Gabby looked at her apprehensively, as if she was unsure if she should take more of the woman's dinner.

“I’m full.” Y/N reassured, “You can finish them.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to waste any food.” Gabby rationalized, causing a chuckle to fall from Y/N’s lips as she eagerly grabbed the can from her. Wasting no time to tip the sweet fruit onto her tongue. Any decorum lost as she spoke through a full mouth, “And, don't get me wrong, there are some days where he annoys the hell out of me… but he’s a good guy.”

She swallowed at her food thickly. Y/N almost thought she was going to choke. But that wasn’t the case. Maybe it was just hard for the girl to admit. Which was proven to Y/N when Gabby’s demeanor shifted into something more serious.

“He’s kept me alive. Which is saying a lot since I annoy him most of the time too. I’m surprised he hasn’t ditched me.”

“You guys aren’t related?” Y/N asked, but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“No.” She explained, and Y/N would have been fine if she stopped at that, she wouldn’t want to force the kid to talk about things that made her uncomfortable. But maybe something about the older woman had gotten Gabby to trust her, it took Y/N by surprise when she kept speaking.

“I was— I had… gotten separated from my group. I was alone for maybe a week or two when Eren found me in an abandoned warehouse. I didn’t have much food so I was practically dying of starvation, I couldn’t put up much of a fight. He could’ve killed me… or at least kept walking. But he decided to help.”

“You must not annoy him that much then.” Y/N offered. Gabby blew air out of her nose in silent laughter.

“Trust me I do.” Gabby said, “I make a point of it.”

Y/N laughed at that. “Good, it’ll keep him on his toes.”

A grin was shared between the two of them. A moment noticed where they had found a kindred soul. It was strange for Y/N. It had been a long time since she had made a friend. And she never would have expected that her first friend in years would be a teenage girl. But she could already tell that they would get along just fine. Maybe she could get along with Eren too, if this girl was his saving grace.

“It’s obvious that he cares about you a lot.” Y/N observed.

“Really?” Gabby asked, almost as if she didn’t believe it. Y/N wondered if she would even believe that he had a knife to her throat only a couple of hours before, in the name of her protection. She obviously wouldn’t disclose that information with the girl, knowing it might upset her. But Y/N couldn’t hold a grudge against Eren for his actions. She understood exactly what brought him to do it. Y/N nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah.” Y/N replied, “I can tell he’s a good guy.”

“I was under the impression that you didn’t really like him.”

“I don’t.” Y/N admitted, “But like I said— the dog is never wrong.”

Eren’s P.O.V.

He had walked into a bathroom. Though it seemed his exit had ended with a dignified resolution (or a dramatic flourish as Gabby would put it), he felt foolish as he stood there, barely anywhere to move in the small tiled-room. The closer the walls were the bigger his ego felt. And Eren hated it.

But since he didn’t want to admit defeat and go back into the living room, he decided that there might be something useful in here. So he pushed away any frustration he felt from the previous conversation and pressed on.

The metal of the faucet lever was cold on his fingers as he flicked it on. Nothing came out. Which wasn’t a surprise, clean, drinkable water hadn’t been easy to come by during these times. But Eren still had hope that one day, in one of these abandoned houses, his luck would change. Looked like it wasn’t today.

Next was the cabinet behind the mirror, picked through from the looks of it, the only thing that was left were some stray cotton swabs. An annoyed sigh fell from his lips as he let the cabinet door swing shut, the mirror rattling a bit as it fell back into place. His eyes met his own in the reflection.

It’s been a long time since he observed his own features. Vanity was one thing that had to be quickly forgotten if you wanted to survive. He never cared much for his looks, but damn, he has seen some better days. Now it made sense why Y/N thought he was so much older. He looked so tired and… angry. And the few stray gray hairs that were strewn throughout his hair did not help. Nor did the five o'clock shadow. He ran a hand over his mouth, feeling the rough skin under his palm.

Eren examined himself for only a second longer, before shaking his head and crouching down to see if there was anything under the sink. There wasn’t much there either, save for some gauze (which he pocketed) and a box way in the back, tucked behind the piping.

When he pulled the box free from its hiding spot he found it was a box of tampons. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he thought of the mortifying situation of having to hand this over to Gabby. But he knew these were a gold mine for her. And if he had to be traveling with a teenage girl he might as well make the ride easier for him. Maybe he could find a way to sneak it into her backpack. The box found its home next to the gauze in his pocket.

As Eren stood to take one more glance around the room, a loud bang sounded out from the other side of the door. In one swift moment his gun was back in his hands, the door slamming against the wall from how quickly he exited the bathroom. His heart was beating loudly in his chest. Please let the kid be alive.

He expected to find blood, a body, or any other horrifying thing his mind could come up with. What he saw instead, was a mattress in the middle of the room, the furniture spread out, and the two girls huffing from exertion. Ellie was still on the couch, her tail thumping against the leather in a form of contentment.

“That thing was heavier than I expected.” Y/N said, placing her hands on her hips. Gabby nodded in agreement before flopping down on the mattress, her limbs sprawled out across the plush surface.

“What are you doing?” Eren asked, placing his gun back in its holster.

“Sleeping arrangements.” Gabby answered, propping herself up to look at Eren, “It was Y/N’s idea. She said it would be like a ‘slumber party.’”

“I used to do this with my friends freshman year of college— Well the only year of college…” Y/N trailed off, and a glimpse of who this woman was before this hell broke out flashed before Eren's eyes. He shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“Anyways, you get the picture.” Y/N waved off, “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun isn’t something we can afford these days.” Eren countered, stepping further into the room.

“Don’t worry, there’s something in it for you too.” She replied, that teasing tone hinting through her words once more. “You can keep an eye on her and the traitorous murderer you think that I am all at the same time. If that isn’t what you consider fun, then I got you pegged all wrong.”

Eren’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared at her. She held her ground as he did, her smile not once faltering.

“Fine.” He said gruffly, after a minute of chewing it over. Y/N’s smile shifted into a grin at his response, Gabby exhaled an excited ‘yes!’ from the bed.

“Then it’s settled.” She grinned, “I’ll get the rest of the blankets.”

“You do that.” Eren breathed, as he moved to find his spot back on the couch. He rubbed at his eyes, already exhausted from this woman’s added energy.

“Psst.” He heard from the floor. He moved his hand to look at Gabby. Though she must’ve thought her first attempt at garnering his attention fell flat, as a throw pillow came flying at his face. It bounced off his forearm, which he lifted in defense just in time.

“What?” He hissed.

“I like her.” She whispered. Eren paused, taking in the hopeful features of the teenager in front of him.

“Don’t get attached.” He said simply.

“Why not?” Gabby argued, still in her hushed tone. “She could make us stronger. Help us out, you know?”

Eren considered this. It was true, this woman seemed to know what she was doing when it came to surviving. And there was strength in numbers. But she would be another mouth to feed. Another person to keep alive. Plus her stupid dog.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Eren decided, not wanting to go back and forth on the pros and cons list. “Get some sleep, kid.”

“Ugh, fine.” Gabby groaned, flopping back down on the mattress.

Their conversation had ended just in time as Y/N returned to the room, her arms stuffed with more pillows and blankets.

“I haven't slept in a real bed like this in months.” She told them as she dumped the blankets onto Gabby.

“I don’t think I ever slept in a bed like this.” Gabby responded, sitting up from under the pile, pillows falling pathetically onto the floor. “This thing is huge.”

“It’s a king. These people were probably rich.” Y/N agreed, lifting up one of the blankets, and kicking the rest of them onto the floor. Gabby took her cue and got up and watched as Y/N started making the bed. She flicked the edge of a sheet so it floated above their heads before fitting nicely over the mattress. As she did the same with the rest of the blankets, Gabby would help to make sure each one was spread evenly.

“What about you?” Y/N asked as they did so.

“What about me?” Eren replied, assuming she was talking to him by the way she nodded at him when she asked.

“When was the last time you slept in a bed like this?”

Eren looked down at the now nicely made bed, Gabby placing down the pillows at the top, everything looking so much more expensive than anything he had owned in his previous life.

“Never.” He answered honestly.

“Then you should try it out.” Y/N responded, her words seemingly genuine, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Not a chance.” Eren scoffed. “I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re going to stay up all night?”

The look he gave her must have answered Y/N’s question. Her lips pursed in a thin line, almost like she was unhappy. But she didn’t argue with him, which came as a surprise. He was bizarrely grateful. It had been a long day and he didn’t have the energy. It seemed that she didn’t either.

“Is it alright if I share this with you?” She then asked Gabby. Eren opened his mouth to protest, still untrusting of this woman, but like always he was late to the punch.

“Of course.” Gabby answered, way more trusting than Eren ever would be. “This thing is huge, I’d feel bad if you’d have to sleep on the floor.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at her, grabbing a pillow and placing it at the other end of the bed, apparently still considering the space that should be kept between strangers.

Those were the last words that were spoken for the night. Soon shoes were tugged off, heads were on pillows and the sounds of soft, steady breathing filtered into the room. Slowly but surely.

Eren’s eyes stayed wide open, his gaze fixed on the dying embers of the fire.

Eren was running. Razor sharp branches reached out from either side of him, cutting up the skin of his arms and legs. He heard the moans and groans grow louder and louder behind his back, knowing they were gaining on him. His heart was pounding in his ears, his legs were killing him. Somewhere through the growling and his panicked breathing he heard a voice, someone calling to him. Hope sparked deep in his stomach and he knew that if he could only get to where that voice was coming from, only then would he be safe. He reached a hand out. His foot caught on a root. He was falling to the ground and then—

He was awake. He startled up straight in his seat, a quilt slipping off of his chest as he did. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the fabric that was crumpled across his legs.

“Are you okay?”

It was Y/N. His eyes found her at the other end of the couch, her features illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows, the fire now completely out. Her fingers smoothing over Ellie’s head which was resting in her lap. He put two and two together, realizing that she must have been the culprit behind the blanket. Huh.

Eren looked around the room, trying to catch his bearings. Snores emanated from the curled up figure on the bed he knew to be Gabby. Everything else was quiet. There was nothing coming.

“How long was I out?” He asked, ignoring her first question.

“I’m not sure.” Y/N shrugged, “You were asleep when I woke up. Decided to take over the watch since you were… preoccupied.”

“Did anything happen?”

“Nothing of note.” She responded. Eren let out a deep sigh, his body visibly relaxing into the couch. He let his head fall back against the edge of the furniture, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed at nothing.

“Bad dream?” Y/N inquired, shifting in her seat to face him. Ellie huffed, obviously annoyed at having to remove herself from her previous comfortable position. She curled up closer to Eren. Y/N didn’t seem to mind. And strangely neither did he.

He stole a look at her sideways. “Is it that obvious?”

“I doubt anyone’s having any good dreams these days.” She replied. He nodded in agreement.

“What was it about?”

Silence fell over the cabin once more as Eren contemplated her question. He was never really the type to indulge in these types of conversations, but she was here and she was asking, so why wouldn’t he? If only for tonight.

“The usual.” Eren sighed, “Running away from those horrible things… Not making it in time.”

It was Y/N’s turn to nod, only this time in understanding. “Yeah, that’s what woke me up too.”

“What was yours about?”

The subtle surprise that flitted across the girl's face matched how Eren felt when the words tumbled out of his lips. He wasn’t even sure if he really cared for the answer. But as he waited for her response it sort of felt like he did. Maybe it was something about what she had said earlier. He wanted to get to know her.

“It’s the same every night.” She said, her voice turning into a soft hush, “I lose her every single time.”

Eren watched as Y/N’s hand dropped onto her dog, her fingers intertwining through the black fur.

He knew those kinds of dreams all too well. If he doesn’t wake up before the initial fall, that’s when he realizes he’s all alone, surrounded by those monsters. He had failed. The one thing he promised her. He didn’t protect her.

His eyes rose up from her hand, meeting her irises. It was dark, so he couldn’t be sure, but he swore that her eyes were shining with unshed tears, reflected by the small bit of moonlight. The beating heart in his chest stirred in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable. He never knew how to deal with other people's emotions. Though the one thing he did know, was that behind those tears was genuine fear. Fear of loss. Fear of being left alone in this world. Fear of failure. It was the exact same feeling that hid behind his own teal eyes. It was what he saw in the mirror in that tiny bathroom. An epiphany hit him in the dark of the night.

He drew in a breath.

“We’ll go with you.”

~~~

A/N: omg!!! so he decided to tag along with Y/N (like we didn’t all see that coming 🙄) I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! please don’t be afraid to message me too! I’d love to talk to you guys about this fic (or anything for that matter!) ILY ALL!!! (oh also i promise I’ll make a masterlist post for this soon i’m just very lazy)

Taglist: @large-juice @dududubebo @jaegersdiary (message me or comment if you want to be added!)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut

154 notes · View notes