#i'm definitely going to reblog this at halloween | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollfacefantasy · 6 months

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And If the Sun Comes Up

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon knows that you and him are meant to be. if the only way to show you that is to sneak in during the night, then that's just what he'll have to do.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, non-con, biting, blood, reader is tied up, spitting in mouth, overstimulation

word count: 4k

a/n: hey everyone. when he fucks u so good, u think u love him, am i right? i wanted to get one more done for halloween and i'm kinda late, but it's still halloween here so idgaf. i hope everyone enjoys. also i'm trying a new style with the header image so yeah. as always i really appreciate reblogs and comments <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz

i made a playlist of songs i listened to while writing here.

It’s the middle of the night with moonlight shining down through the slits in your blinds. You’re sleeping off a stressful week tonight. You lay between your soft blankets with your head resting on your cool pillow. You had been in a peaceful, dreamless slumber, but now whimpers erupted from your unconscious form as you felt a persistent sensation between your legs.

You still aren’t fully awake. Your eyes briefly flutter, and your hips shift, trying to alleviate the disturbance that was disrupting your rest. A long whine escapes your throat as cold hands wrap around the tops of your thighs and keep you in position.

You gasp softly as your mind struggles to differentiate dream from reality. When you try to close your legs, you’re met with resistance. You start to come to as your limbs tug more forcefully on whatever was keeping them spread. You could vaguely feel the sensation of restraints around your ankles. It’s difficult to see in the darkness of your bedroom, but you can hear something unfamiliar. Soft grunts and groans emanate from the bottom of your bed.

You weakly lift your head to figure out what was happening. Your eyes were still sleepy, and your mind was still fogged from returning to lucidity, but you could still recognize the sensation of someone lapping at your cunt like it was their final meal.

Looking down between your thighs, you see a mop of blonde hair. At first, the sight brings you mere confusion. It didn’t make sense, and you struggled to process it. But as the gears in your brain began sliding into place, terror coursed through your veins.

A strangled cry leaves your lips, and you thrash harder to get away. You realize your arms are bound too, connected together by your wrists that were secured at the level of your navel. The adrenaline in your system makes you much more alert. You could now see the long, toned body of this stranger. He wore tight, black clothing that allowed you to see his definition. His strength was obvious from that alone if you couldn’t already feel it from how he held you in place so easily.

Once he notices you’re awake, his head pops up. Your eyes widen as they connect with his piercing irises through the dark. Fear moves through you in sickening waves. Every cell in your body yearns for him to just get away.

“Shhh, sweet one. It’s alright,” he whispers. He rubs his fingertips on your inner thigh in an attempt to soothe you. His voice is husky yet familiar, and his eyes are glazed over with arousal. From what it looked like, he had been doing this for a while.

You don’t stop squirming. Your heart pounds so erratically that it feels like at any moment you’ll go into cardiac arrest. As your breathing picks up and becomes shallow, your cries become breathless.

His brows furrow momentarily at your response, but then his expression softens. You felt like you recognized him, but you couldn’t be sure.

“My darling, there’s no reason to be afraid,” he says and presses a few small kisses to your thigh, “Calm yourself, my love. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You’re still so freaked out by the fact that this is even happening that your brain fails to formulate a response. You stare at him in horror as your squirming becomes weaker and your muscles begin to freeze out of fright.

“Good girl,” he whispers and caresses your hip, “This is for your pleasure, angel. Just relax. I know I may have startled you, but there’s no need to carry on.”

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your clit causing you to softly yelp in both protest and pleasure. He chuckles and pulls his face back. His thumb begins lazily swiping through your folds, up and down. As soon as he cracks that smile, you’re able to place him.

“Leon?” you ask, your voice still raspy from sleep. Your drowsy mind couldn’t figure out why the man you’d seen only in passing at your job as a waitress was eating you out in your bedroom in the dead of night.

“Yes, beloved?” he answers, looking up at you with genuine curiosity as if nothing was off.

Now that you know the identity of your mysterious trespasser, your fear fades, and anger takes its place.

“Leon, what the fuck? What are you doing? And what are you doing here?” you say, your voice wavering. You try to stay focused and not let yourself be distracted by his thumb sliding around your slick. He doesn’t seem too fazed by your reaction.

“What does it look like I’m doing, pretty baby?” he whispers, “Making you feel good. You had a hard week, little doll. Let me make it better. Then I’ll explain.”

With that, he returns his head to the junction of your thighs. He parts his lips and begins making out with your pussy. Your eyes widen at his words, but the feeling of his tongue on your most intimate spot pushes your protests back down your esophagus. Instead, you whimper and take your lip between your teeth.

Erotic, wet noises from his lips and tongue working on your cunt spill out into the bedroom. Your cheeks heat with the shame of how good it felt, but there was really nothing you could do but take it. His tongue circles and laves at your clit with intense dedication before gliding down and fucking into your dripping hole.

His fingertips trace soothing circles onto the soft skin of your thighs while his mouth continues working you to the edge. He starts grunting again like he had been doing when you were sleeping. From the sounds alone, it seemed like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you. His breathing was heavy. You could feel it fanning across your pelvis.

You whine, your physical resistance dying down as release gets closer. You can feel his smug grin against your skin.

“L-Leon…” you stammer out through moans.

“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Let it feel good. Your body knows it’s right. It knows what you need.”

He flicks his tongue on your swollen bud a few more times before you come undone. You jerk and spasm against the restraints on your wrists and ankles. Broken whimpers fall from your lips as your head fogs with the euphoria of release.

He watches from below with wonder. “There you go, pretty girl,” he breathes while thumbing your clit, “Give it all to me. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

You ride out your release on his tongue. When you finish up, you look down at him with half-lidded eyes. He continues to gaze up at you with a look of love, his pupils dilated and his chin covered with your arousal.

“Leon. Explain,” you say, trying to sound firm, but your voice was hazy from your release.

“Why so many questions, little one? Did that not feel good?” he asks, “Did that not feel like everything you needed?”

“Leon. What are you doing in my house at three in the fucking morning… touching me like that?” you say, your voice picking up some of the intensity you initially intended.

He sighs and shakes his head, but still sports that smug smile. “You’ll see in time, my love. I know you’ll feel it too,” he says.

My love. Those two words struck you like an itch you couldn’t scratch. All these weird pet names. You barely knew him. He was always nice to you, but in a cordial kind of way, remembering your name and little things you’d told him about your day when you gave him his order. You weren’t even friends. You definitely didn’t consider yourself to be his love.

“Feel what? What are you talking about? You sound crazy,” you say.

“You’re my mate, sweet one,” he responds. He looks at you as if it’s a fact and speaks as if this was the most normal conversation, like you weren’t tied up and nude from the waist down.

You blink at him in disbelief. The words ring through your mind.

“Your mate?” you repeat incredulously, the only response you could think of.

“My mate,” he confirms, “I know you can’t understand it now. But you will. I’ll-”

“I barely know you!” you raise your voice, “Just cause I smile at you and can remember your order that doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! And it sure as Hell doesn’t mean we’re mates.”

He remains calm as he continues to speak. “You may not know me, but I know you, sweetheart. I love you, but you aren’t the most observant. I’ve been watching, and I know we’re meant to be. I know it’s right for you.”

The thought of him watching you while you went about your life, clueless as ever, disturbed you to the pit of your stomach, but you tried not to let that show.

“Oh my God, you’re delusional. Fucking delusional. You think we’re soulmates? Like what? Like we’re written in the stars or something?” you mock.

“No, darling. Not written in the stars. It’s written in our DNA, something tying us together. I can sense it. You have the sweetest smelling blood I’ve ever come across.”

Your eyes widen at his explanation.

“What… What are you talking about? You can’t smell my blood, Leon,” you say.

“If only I couldn’t, maybe then I wouldn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice growing more hushed, “But I can. You have to understand, little love. I’m not a man of normal appetites.”

The way he spoke freaked you out. Various horrific ideas ran through your head about what he meant by unusual appetites. Your anger was slowly exiting, and your fear was seeping back in. Your limbs tremble as you try again to pull yourself out of your bindings.

“Sweetheart, all throwing a tantrum will do is tire you out,” he chides, "And while it’s not required, I would prefer if you were conscious to see how good I can make you feel.”

“You’re fucking insane!” you exclaim with a shaky voice, tears of terror pricking at your eyes, “I don’t know what gave you this sick fantasy that we’re true love and meant to be or whatever. But that’s all it is. Leon, I-”

“Enough,” he says, his voice dropping to a more commanding tone, “If you’re not willing to understand, I’ll just have to make you more agreeable.”

With that, his mouth returns to your cunt. He sucks your clit between his lips and flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. One hand holds your thigh like it was before while the other comes between your legs and prods at your entrance.

You’re whimpering in no time, still being tender from your previous release. Your hips squirm and writhe as he pumps two fingers in and out of you.

“Quit moving,” he growls and tightens his grip on your thigh.

The gravelly harsh tone lights the pool of arousal in your belly like a match falling into gasoline. You clamp around his fingers and mewl softly. A sharp exhale leaves his nose and smirks.

“Good baby, deep down you know you want this. You’ve only had my fingers so far, and she already knows to get nice and tight for me,” he breathes before returning his attention to your pussy.

His fingers continue working you open, scissoring inside your hole as they move back and forth. The whole time he relentlessly plays with your clit, flicking, sucking, circling. Short, strained cries come from you as your back arches off the bed.

“There we go, pretty baby. Cum again for me,” he purrs, “I doubt you’ve been with a guy who could make you cum even once.”

You didn’t even fully register his words because you were so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy. Your body convulses as release washes over you again. You shiver in waves, whining and babbling as he continues pleasuring you through the high.

As you come down, he doesn’t ease up on you. His fingers tease you a bit before applying enough pressure to overstimulate you. He adds a third finger into you and continues maneuvering them skillfully, hitting all the right spots.

His mouth doesn’t stop either. He spits onto your pussy and dives back in, licking up your slick and flattening his tongue to massage you into bliss.

He brings you at least two more peaks, eating you out until your mind is nearly melted and you’re a whining, drooling, nonsensical mess.

When he finally feels that you’ve had enough, he moves up, coming face to face with you in a blur. You flinch at the quick movement, and draw a chuckle from him. His hand wraps around your throat while his eyes give you a predatory scan. He lowers his head to the crook of your neck and inhales deep.

“Smells like cherries,” he mutters before laying a few soft kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

You shiver at the gentle contact and a quiet whine escapes you. Your nipples are hard beneath your top from the countless highs he brought you and the fluttering of his lips against your skin. It’s not long before his other hand is sliding up your body to squeeze and fondle your breasts, his thumb teasingly swiping across the hardened buds a few times.

“I don’t need you to understand this, my love. I don’t expect you to. It’s a little out of your depth anyways,” he whispers and nips at your earlobe, “What I expect is for you to take it like a good girl and let me show you what you need. I think you can already see that you’ll be begging for more by the end of the night whether you understand it or not.”

Your thoughts are too muddled to formulate an actual response. Instead, you just watch him with your blissed out stare. He leans back and pulls off his shirt, exposing his muscular torso and chest to you. The moonlight coming through the blinds illuminates him just enough for you to feel more desire building in your abdomen. He smiles at your impressed reaction, and that’s when you see it.

He has fangs.

It’s only a glimpse, but you would swear on your life that it was the truth. His canines are clearly sharper than normal, it can’t be your imagination. And with all his talk about blood… You felt like you were losing it. There was no way he made you cum so hard that you’d believe in vampires.

“What is it, precious?” he asks softly as he undoes his belt and starts lowering his pants. His tone projects innocence, but the look on his face makes you think he knows exactly what you’re fixated on.

“Nothing, I- I- it’s-” you stutter. Your jaw almost drops as his hard cock springs free from his boxers. It was long and thick and you weren’t even sure that it would fit.

He climbs on top of you again, his strong, thick arms boxing you in on your bed.

“What’s the matter? Like what you see? Or is it that you don’t think I have a pretty smile?” he asks, flashing his teeth again. The fangs are in clear view now. Their existence is undeniable.

He can hear your heartbeat speeding up and your breathing getting shallow. It brings him a twisted sense of pleasure that he doesn’t dwell on. He lazily strokes himself in preparation to enter you.

“What are you? You… you can’t be…” you say, your voice dropping to nearly a whisper.

“A vampire?” he asks, “That’s probably the term easiest for you to understand, so yes, my little doll. I am a vampire.”

Your eyes widen. Your fearful gaze locks onto him.

“It’s not like a movie, baby. I can eat garlic and clearly I don’t need to be invited into your house,” he explains, almost as if he’s trying to lighten the mood, “But I have a bloodlust.”

You’re stunned. This couldn’t be real. “So what? I’m like your personal blood bank or something? Is that what being your mate is?”

“No,” he scoffs, “Being my mate is what it sounds like, angel. In all my years, I’ve never met another who makes me feel like you do. You’re my love, the light in the darkness I’ve been existing in. My personal heaven and hell wrapped into one perfect vessel.”

Your head is spinning with everything you’re hearing. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before leaning back onto his knees and positioning himself at your entrance. He stares at you with his eyes, glossed over with lust. He reaches for your confined hands and brings them to his lips.

“It will all make sense soon, darling,” he says, “Soon enough we’ll be together in this.”

He takes one of your fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. One of his fangs presses into the pad of your finger, and draws a small drop of blood. You wince at the pain, but you’re quickly distracted by the guttural groan Leon emits as he smooths his tongue against the warm liquid.

He pushes inside you and tilts his head back. Your finger slips out of his mouth and smears some blood on his lips.

“Tastes so fucking sweet too, Christ,” he grunts as he begins thrusting.

Despite the circumstances, he felt good. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was the best you ever had. He filled you up perfectly. A string of whines and whimpers expel from your mouth into a long moan.

“That’s right. You know it’s perfect,” he mutters, “Soon, it will be just me and you. For all of eternity. No one else. The entire world could burn, and you and I could fuck on top of the ashes.”

Your own head falls back, and he sucks your finger back into his mouth to taste more of your blood. He moans around your digit, his hips beginning to piston with more intensity. His hands lock onto your hips, so he has a firm grip to slam into you with.

You felt a mix of shame and fear, but you started to believe him. You felt something inside you that told you this was right. This was what you longed for. What you needed.

He starts leaning over you more. He had to see you, had to see your mind changing about him, the look in your eyes shifting from fear to lust. One of his hands rises to hold your jaw and direct you to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, eyes boring into you.

You do it with no hesitation. Your lips part and your tongue lolls out obediently. He smirks, still rolling his hips as he slowly spits into your open mouth. His saliva leaks from his lips, lands on your tongue, and starts sliding to your throat. The feeling combined with that look in his eyes almost made you cum on its own.

He feels the same. Watching your pretty eyes become unfocused as you accept what’s happening had him digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks in order to hold on. Once he felt you had enough he pats your cheek.

“Swallow,” he grunts and reverts his primary focus to fucking you into the mattress.

And you do this too. You swallow it all. A garbled moan erupts from you afterwards, and your eyes roll back as he strokes all the sweet spots inside of you.

“Good girl,” he coos with a low tone, “Taking it perfectly. Just like you’re meant to do.”

You lift your arms and loop your bound wrists over his head to pull him closer. He follows your guidance, but his face looks almost pained. He keeps his face further than you want. You whimper and try to pull him down to the crook of your neck more.

“Sweet baby, you have to be careful. I can’t… I have to make sure you’re safe my love. I don’t know if I can control myself if I’m that close,” he breathes.

“What? Control how?” you babble, still not really focused because of how his cock is battering your insides at the moment.

“Your blood, baby. It’s too strong. I won’t be able to hold back. I could hurt you,” he says.

That almost snaps you back to reality for a moment. “Like what? You wanna bite me?” you ask with a curious expression.

For a change, this time he has no words. He nods, still maintaining eye contact.

It wasn’t your smartest moment, but you don’t hesitate as the words leave you.

“Do it.”

His eyes flash with a look you can’t read in your state.

“Sweetheart, I… I want to, but it’s not safe,” he whispers, but you can hear the desire in his voice.

“If we’re really mates then you should be able to stop yourself. Prove it to me. Prove that I’m yours and you’re mine,” you say, your voice taking on a whiny quality from how close you were getting.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist when you were asking for it like this. He slowly lowers himself to be level with your neck. His thrusts become slower but deeper. He takes another deep breath of that scent before baring his teeth and sinking them into your flesh.

You gasp and pull your arms around him as you feel the punctures. At first it hurts, but then he begins to softly suck, coaxing your blood into his mouth. You both let out simultaneous moans. His eyes flutter now and his grip on your hips tighten.

He’s getting lost in his own world of euphoria now as he feeds off of you, gulping down that sweet, hot liquid. You tremble as pleasure courses through you too. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It was light and airy while being grounding and all consuming. You couldn’t hold on for any longer.

He growls as you cum, the feeling of your cunt latching onto him is almost too much. He manages to hold it together for a handful more thrusts. His breathing is rough as he cums and his thrusts are sporadic. You feel his muscles tensing as he groans into your neck. He spills rope after rope of cum into you.

When you’re both done, both of your bodies are trembling. Your sweaty skin is pressed to his which is still ice cold. He goes limp on top of you, breathing deep as he comes down from the high. You could feel blood trickling down your neck as his mouth disconnects from your throat.

You didn’t know what to say. The fog of lust was clearing and while you didn’t regret your decisions, this was still weird. You remove your arms from him, and he takes that as a signal to pull out and roll off of you.

He pushes his disheveled hair out of his face and gives you a crooked smile. His mouth was still red with your blood. He reaches over and starts untying the restraints around your hands. You watch him quietly.

“So you said soon… we’ll be in this together?” you ask awkwardly.

He lets out a short laugh as he gets the bindings off and drops them to the side. He runs his fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead before getting out of your bed.

“Soon, sweet one, I’ll change you to be like me. A vampire,” he says, using a teasing tone for the last word, “But not yet. I know you’re not ready, and my goal isn’t to scare you. I truly love you.”

You just nod because you honestly didn’t know what to say to that. Even if you felt something for him, you wouldn’t say it was love. Yet.

You watch him put on his clothes as you reach down to start untying your ankles.

“So… you’re just leaving?” you say, almost sounding disappointed.

“Yes but don’t be too sad, my love. You’ll see me as soon as the sun sets again tonight,” he says.

He finishes putting on his clothes and leans in to give you one more passionate kiss before he leaves. You could still taste your blood on him.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #smut

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cupid-styles · 6 months

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touch me here (sugar daddy h)

the final fall/halloween-themed blurb !!!! thank you so much to everyone who read, reblogged, liked etc etc etc any of the writing I put out this month. it was definitely a challenge to post twice a week but I'm so happy to be rounding it out with this reader's choice blurb :))))

in which mia and harry celebrate halloween at a sex club, things get spicy, and harry realizes something big

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: smut (exhibitionism, dirty talk, cum play, voyeurism, daddy kink, a tiny bit of degradation and impact play if you squint, description of facials/multiple partners in a mmf threesome)

masterlist | talk to me

fall/halloween blurb masterlist

. . .

"You wanna go where?"

In Harry's classic, slightly annoying way, he lets out a cackle before taking a sip of his wine. Mia's jaw is still slack, a look of confusion and shock clearly etched on her face. She's not sure why her boyfriend isn't more surprised that his suggestion elicited this type of reaction, but part of her assumes he's just messing with her for his own weird entertainment.

"A sex club," he shrugs nonchalantly, and Mia wishes he would spill his wine on the crisp button down he wore to work today, "I've gone a couple of times and I like it. They're throwing some sort of Halloween event, figured it could be fun."

"You've gone?"

He nods, "Yeah, before we met, of course. There's no pressure, it's all anonymous. Since we don't have any plans for Halloween—"

"I told you Rena is throwing a party—"

"And I'm not going to a student-thrown party," he says through furrowed brows as Mia's shoulders deflate, "This could be something fun. Different."

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempts to conceptualize it, but she doesn't know the first thing about sex clubs, so it's difficult to even imagine what it would be like. Harry can tell her anxiety is quickly growing so he sets his glass down on the coffee table and places his hand on her thigh, giving it a small squeeze.

"We don't have to, baby. It was just an idea. No pressure."

"I just... what is it like?" she asks softly, and his eyes widen slightly at her piqued interest.

"It's intense, but also laidback if that makes sense," he says, his throat bobbing as he swallows, "You can watch or you can partake, or you can just sit and talk to people. You get a wristband if you're not interested in chatting with strangers or joining certain... situations. So, we would both wear them since we'd go together."

She nods, and he continues when she doesn't outwardly reject the idea.

"There's lockers when you come in so you can lock your phone up, so no one will ever be able to take pictures or videos or anything," he murmurs, moving his hand up to her hip, "It's... my experiences have all been very good."

Mia rolls her lips into her mouth, her core fluttering as she thinks about what Harry might have done at this mysterious club. She knows he would tell her if she asked, but she imagines him pressed between bodies, kisses sloppy with spit, him being the mean dominant she adores him to be — all as people watch on, wishing they could be lucky enough to touch him. It makes her skin pebble with goosebumps, a shudder traveling down her spine.

"Yeah, okay," she says breathily, and Harry takes notice of the way she's squeezing her thighs together, "We can do that."

. . .

Mia thinks she may ask Harry to dress up as a greaser once a week.

She can't stop grazing over the sharpness of his jawline and his newly colored hair (courtesy of some messy temporary black dye that will surely take him weeks to rinse out of his shower). His biceps are bulging beneath the formfitting tank top he's wearing, forcing her to take another sip of her Halloween-themed drink so she didn't say something stupid about how hot he looks.

Much to Mia's surprise, the sex club she and Harry went to tonight is actually... nice. She knew he would never attend, let alone take her somewhere, unsafe or gross, but in her mind, she built it up to be more akin to a strip club of some sorts. This is anything but — they signed in at the front, provided official identification to ensure they weren't minors or had criminal backgrounds, and even had to have STI testing done within the week to prove they were both clean. After that, they locked up their phones and any other technology they had on their persons; Mia swallowing nervously when she realized this was technically when she was supposed to take off her clothes to reveal the costume — or lack thereof, really — she wore tonight.

She didn't give Harry much an inkling prior to getting here, instead just telling him that she had everything figured out. In reality, once they decided on their Halloween plans, she took to Pinterest to find costumes she could wear a set of lingerie for, eventually settling on some sort of sexy bat. It was a poor excuse for Halloween, but Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she disrobed, revealing a velvet black bodysuit, a leather harness strapped over her torso, and a lacy collar around her neck to resemble bat ears.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he muttered, pushing her up against the cool lockers, his thumbs digging into her hipbones, "Or you just want me to kill every person who looks at you in there."

She'd just smirked cheekily and slipped out of his grasp.

Which, all of that being said, is how they ended up here.

They both wore red bracelets around their wrists, signifying that they're not open to anyone else joining. They hadn't really discussed what their plans were for the night, instead just agreeing that they'd do whatever made them most comfortable, even if that meant just renting a room upstairs to be in private. However, Mia didn't expect to sit on the sidelines next to Harry, his hand wrapped protectively over her stocking-clad thigh, as they watch a beautiful blonde girl deep throat two guys.

"Are you doing alright?" Harry asks, his voice barely above a whisper, "I know it's intense. We can leave at any time."

Instead, she just nods, her bottom lip tucked under her teeth. "No, I... I like it. I'm okay."

He smirks, his fingers dancing along the inside of her thigh. "Is this turning you on, sweetheart?"

Again, she nods, her eyes glued to the slight bulge in the girl's throat from sucking one of the men off.

"Do you want to go upstairs so I can touch this pretty pussy?"

Mia swallows and tears her gaze away from the show in front of them. She wraps her hand around his wrist and gently pushes it closer to her core, panting slightly as she watches the cogs turn in his brain.

"You want me to touch you here?" he asks through raised eyebrows, "Are y'sure baby? There's no pressure just because other people are doing that."

He's right, there's a few other couplings and trios on the side also watching, touching themselves or the people they're with. Realistically, though, it's the only reason why she feels comfortable enough to request this from him, knowing that she likely won't be the object of anyone's affection.

"If you want to," she breathes out, "We can go upstairs if you'd prefer— I'm fine with whatever."

Harry chuckles. "I'm perfectly okay with showing off daddy's sweet pussy knowing that no one else can get a taste."

She shudders at that, her eyes fluttering closed as he uses featherlight strokes to brush over the covered clit.

"But you know the safe word, hm?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her temple, "Any time, we're done."

"Yes, daddy."

He lets out a groan and gently pulls her into his lap, spreading her thighs over his own. He makes quick work to push her bodysuit out of the way, revealing her glistening lips to the room, her hole already pulsating just at the thought of being so open. She can feel his erection pressing into her back, wanting nothing more to twist her body around so she can bounce on his cock, but the thought is too nerve-wracking for her to take action.

She sighs out in relief when he begins to run his fingertips over her clit, lulling her head back against his shoulder. He smiles gently and kisses her hair, his chest vibrating as he speaks lowly into her ear.

"Do you like watching them?"

She nods, biting her lip. "She's pretty."

"Yeah?" he smirks, "Do you like being watched?"

"'s fun. Like knowing people can see." she murmurs. He winds his other arm around her waist and tugs at the harness around her chest, a gasp leaving her mouth.

"I like this. Did you wear it for them or for me?"

"You, daddy."

Harry hums and moves his hand up to her mouth, plucking at her bottom lip. She gets the hint immediately and unhinges her jaw, allowing him to sink his thumb inside. She sucks greedily and he pushes a finger into her pulsating hole, the sound of her moan muffled.

"There you go, baby," he grunts as she grinds her hips lightly, the friction going straight to his plumping length. "Just take it like the good girl you are, hm?"

Her walls clench around his finger, the praise going straight to her pussy. With a smirk, he begins to thumb at her clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves.

"Fuck," she whimpers. He's pumping steadily and she swears she can feel her arousal dripping down to Harry's pants as she watches one of the men finish on the blonde girl's face. With her eyes flutter back open, streaks of cum dripping over the apples of her cheeks and down to her mouth, Mia gasps. Harry realizes it at the same time, her hips stalling — the main event of the show, the girl in the middle of the room, is staring straight at them.

He knows being directly under the gaze of someone may make her uncomfortable so he pauses, giving her the opportunity to murmur out her safe word. He's half expecting her to, but instead, she grinds down against his cock, hand wrapped around his wrist to tug at her harness again.

"Keep going."

The girl's eyes are still on Mia as she takes to working on the other man's length, cum still dripping down her features. He glances down to look at her, and he smirks devilishly when he sees that she's gazing right back at her.

"You like her watching you?" Harry asks, dipping down to take her earlobe between his teeth. She nods eagerly and he pushes a second finger inside, her eyes rolling back slightly.

"Naughty fuckin' girl," he mutters, "She's staring at your pretty little pussy, baby. Watching it gush around my fingers."

"Oh my god."

Her limbs are jelly under his touch, the dirty phrases he's whispering into her ear just pushing her further and further to the end of her rope. It's all so much, but she loves it — loves the way he knows how to wind her body up perfectly, two fingers knuckle deep with his thumb pressing circles into her sensitive clit, murmuring reminders to keep looking at the girl so she watches her come.

When the second man explodes into her mouth, drips of cum from both loads drooling out the sides of her mouth, it's what finally sends Mia over the edge. Her legs shake and her walls throb as Harry works her through her orgasm, a look of pride painted over his features as he watches her.

"There's my pretty girl," he purrs, the squelching between her legs making Mia tremble, "Came all over daddy's fingers like the little slut you are, hm? Open up, want you to taste yourself."

Through hazy eyes, she does as she's told, dropping her mouth open so he can shove his fingers inside. She sucks eagerly despite her tired demeanor, licking off every drop of her arousal. Harry smirks and kisses her temple, using his other hand to brush her hair behind her back.

"Good girl. Did so good for me."

She smiles lazily up at him and his smirk morphs to a grin as she presses a soft kiss to his lips.

"That was fun." she mumbles against him. He nods, running his fingertips down her spine comfortingly. "Can I do you now?"

He chuckles lightly at her enthusiasm, "Think we've given people enough of a show tonight, sweetheart. Kinda wanna just take you home and soak in the bath."

Her eyes light up at that and it makes Harry's heart squeeze inside his chest.

"Really?"

"Course," he answers easily, "Even bought us a Halloween-themed bath bomb. Figured it would be fun to try."

"You're perfect." Mia murmurs between kisses to each of his cheeks, a laugh reverberating from his chest.

"I just made you cum in a sex club and that's what makes me perfect?"

"Mhm," she nods, fixing her bodysuit so her bottom half is covered back up. She carefully gets off of Harry's lap and steps in front of him, reaching out for his hands. "C'mon, I miss the heated floors in your bathroom."

Harry cackles loudly at that and follows her into the locker room, where they grab their phones and Mia puts her dress back on, covering the lingerie she'd worn for the night.

He won't tell her tonight, not wanting to fog the existing intimacy of the evening, but he knows for a fact as they wait for an Uber outside the club, bundled up together while she babbles on about how much she loves his heated floors: He's undoubtedly in love with the girl wrapped up in his arms.

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writerscafehub · 6 months

Text

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

/) /)

( • ༝•)

c /づづ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

282 notes · View notes

roseglazedlens · 6 months

Note

I lieu of October coming up, how would some of the resident evil characters spend Halloween with the reader? ♡♡♡

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 ✧.*

┇LEON S. KENNEDY┇CARLOS OLIVEIRA┇ETHAN WINTERS┇ ┇CLAIRE REDFIELD┇ASHLEY GRAHAM┇ADA WONG┇ content: SFW! Ada's part is slightly suggestive! a/n: thank you for the request! I had problem with some of these for a while, but with halloween around the corner i found the festive vibes for this!! hope you enjoy, dear! thank you for requesting again!! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

Leon doesn't usually dress up. It's out of the way for him to do so usually. But he can be bribed with a good meal and hug.

Old man thinks he's too cool to enjoy Halloween. But he actually really enjoyed dressing up in his low budget vampire suit from the discounted section of a Halloween store.

This is the only time in the year he would slick back his hair with gel in spite of how you think it looks really good on him, framing his features and accentuating his blue eyes. He is very stubborn and likes his hair down.

Now he wears the same costume every year. So much that you're getting really sick of it. He insists that it makes him look good (and it does)

He tries to act cool, but he hates horror movies. When you are watching it together, his hand will be clasping your arm tight, shaking a little.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch something else?" You would ask, and he would respond with: "Pfft. Me? I'm not scared at all."

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Halloween is Claire's favourite holiday! She LOVES it.

And so does the kids in her neighbourhood. She always has a huge smile on her face with trick or treaters, will compliment everyone's costumes and give away extra treats.

I see her going all out for Halloween parties. She learnt SFX makeup and a bit of sewing so that her costumes and make-up are really scary.

Which is a stark contrast with her brother, Chris. He thinks dressing up is a chore and a waste of time. When he does dress-up, it's always in uniform (e.g. firefighter, cop). He thinks it makes him look cool. (He's not wrong but, what is up with Chris and uniforms?)

Already planned out her costumes for the next five years (Ideas keep changing too). She definitely wishes there are more days in Halloween because she has so many ideas.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos is a menace during Halloween.

In no way is Carlos the best at making costumes or doing scary make-up, but Carlos is very creative.

Years ago, Carlos disguised himself as a stuffed doll sitting on the porch. Gave all the kids the fright of their life. He will watch them scram away in fear, and bellows a laugh. (traumatising kids is his favourite pasttime)

Another year, he devised a mechanism that springs up a shadowed figure anytime someone rings his doorbell.

He became infamous in his neighbourhood for his antics, and it's now an attraction for both kids and grown-ups every Halloween.

I also see him and Claire becoming really good friends from their united love for Halloween!

ASHLEY GRAHAM

I headcanon Ashley to crochet, so with Halloween coming, I see her crocheting a spooky themed sweater top, or a granny square bag to embrace the season.

I think Ashley loves to host Halloween parties. With the size of her dad's house, she can accomodate a lot of friends. Often going over the top with themes and decorations.

This year's theme is Harry Potter. She custom ordered a 3 metre (10 feet) tall animatronic of a Dementor in her party and everyone loved it!

She also loves bingeing spooky movies during Halloween. Ashley loves horror movies so much! I don't see her screaming at horror movies, she has grown an immunity to them from watching too many.

ETHAN WINTERS

We already know Ethan has meticulously planned for Halloween almost a month in advance just for Rose.

He is determined to make Rose experience the best childhood, and that includes Halloween too.

Ethan loves matching costumes (would never admit it though), especially with Rose and you too.

When he finishes dressing up Rose, he snaps a million pictures of her, claiming he will show it to Rose when she's all grown up. And Rose will say "Dad, I don't want to take any more photos. The treats are gonna run out!"

Very protective. If anyone has a scary costume, he will steer Rose away from the scary man. Same for people who are underdressed, or is just generally creepy. Not on his watch.

ADA WONG

Halloween is not Ada's cup of tea. She goes out of her way to avoid going out during these days.

For trick or treaters, she leaves a candy bowl on her porch for kids to help themselves. Ada enjoys seeing the silly costumes the kids wear, but she despises interacting with them.

If you are special to Ada, she will put on a sexy Halloween outfit in the privacy of your quarters just for you. She won't take responsibility for whatever you guys might do afterwards. But those are just for your eyes only.

Ada watches horror movies with a blank face. At this point, nothing phases her anymore. I think she'll find them boring and slightly frustrating, with the stupid things the protagonists do to get themselves in danger. She rather watch true crime instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

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annab-nana · 4 months

Note

“Did you buy us cheesy matching pjs?” With Eddie because he would thinks it’s so cheesy but love it entirely because it’s with you🥺💕

omg yes! he'd act like he didn't want to do it, but he'd eat it up

warnings: not proofread, christmas, one use of y/n, use of pet names (angel)

❀ masterlist ❀

from the outside, eddie munson did not look like the christmas kind of guy. his vibe was much more in line with halloween. however, under all that dark clothing and tough exterior was a boy with a soft heart and a love for family time and holiday traditions.

you and eddie had started dating toward the end of january this year, so the pair of you haven't experienced a christmas together. you aren't sure how big of a deal christmas is to him, but based on the decorations up at his trailer, he seems at least a little bit into the holiday. it's either him or wayne.

eddie had been waiting for you to come over all day and he knew you'd be here in mere minutes based on the phone call he got from you a little bit ago. as soon as he heard your car pull up, he was out of his bed and rushing to open the door.

"wait," you called when you shut the car door, "close your eyes. it's a surprise."

"oooo, i wonder what it is," eddie said teasingly as he listened to your footsteps approach until he felt your hand in his. "hmm, this feels familiar," he joked while feeling your hand as if that was the surprise you'd given him.

"eddie, stop," you spoke with a laugh, "that tickles."

he held your hand like he normally would and let you lead him to the couch after you shut the front door behind you both. then, he felt something land in his lap. "can i touch it?"

"yes, eddie. you can open your eyes too."

"it's a bag! i love bags!"

you swatted his arm playfully. "eddie," you whined, "look inside the bag."

"you're too easy to mess with," he commented before finally taking a look inside the bag. you watch him pull out the top of one set before looking in and seeing another one just like it. it's hard to keep your smile at bay.

"did you buy us cheesy matching pjs?" you can't tell by his tone if he was making fun of you or not.

"you don't like it," you stated more than asked before mentally cursing yourself. "i'm sorry. i can take them back. i've still got the recei-"

while you were talking, your eyes weren't on eddie. you were too embarrassed to look at him, so you didn't see how quickly he moved the bag off his lap and stood in front of you. he placed his hands on either side of your face to ensure your focus was on him.

"y/n, i love it. this is the sweetest, cutest thing in the world. i say we change into them right now," eddie told you honestly.

"really?" you inquired to double-check.

"yeah."

"i actually tried to find the darkest ones because i know how much you like your dark ominous clothes to match your dark ominous vibe, so i got those black ones with the tiny christmas trees on them," you explained, going over to the couch to grab the top he held earlier and hold it up for his examination.

"they're perfect, angel, and they're really soft too. i definitely won't be able to stop touching you when you've got these on."

you giggled. "you can't stop touching me anyway."

eddie scoffed dramatically. "can you blame me? you're smokin' hot."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tag list: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast @daisyridleyss

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurbs #blurbs #rebelemilu #❀ emily ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Note

Hi, Miss Raven! What're your thoughts on the new characters' designs and the new cards we're getting?

[You can see the designs for the Halloween 2023 cards and other related TWST news here!]

I'll post my general thoughts below! I unfortunately don't know enough about Pinocchio myself to point out all the little easter eggs in their outfits, so I'll leave that to those who are more knowledgeable than me.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Regarding the NRC boys' looks overall, I think it's a very fun theme and very fitting for the location of the event. I like that they all still wear masks, just in a different context than in Glorious Masquerade. One thing I did notice is that the masks seem... same-y? Like they all resemble thick tree roots or something like that. So maybe they aren't masks at all, but they're associated with whatever the conflict in the story is. (I previously suggested mind control or the loss of consciousness, so maybe the "roots" play into that???) You can see the marionette theme Yana was going for, as well as some design elements from Black Butler's circus arc, very clearly. The poses for each of the boys, even the R cards, are extremely dynamic and imply a strong sense of movement. The ribbons are such a simple detail that contributes a lot to this sense of whimsy and flow.

Some comments I have on specific designs and poses:

Suspenders are so... Trey 💀 THERE'S REALLY NOTHING ELSE FOR ME TO ADD HERE, THEY JUST SUIT HIM

I like it when Trey makes these kind of slightly sus but plausibly deniable faces... He should make more of them...

I can't see the front of Jack's outfit that well, so I don't know if I can fully comment on it??? But I can see his. Like. Physique... coming through... That chest to waist ratio/j

Seeing Jack's tail like that kinda weirds me out. I think that's the first time we've gotten a "full" view of how the tails look coming out of the pants??? So maybe I'll get more used to it with time...

J WORD MY BELOVED dghgqwktvwukdviu1vdutw1513FR7vuofOTVUofvfaafvfyivs.,bk;mobsdb;ibuafetvuqoffSEythTOTqebivfguovqnafCUtuiUIEtt please ignore my bias 🤡 The way his top hat is angled and how there's a dark blue ribbon around him... It vaguely looks like he's trying to pass as Crowley, LOL

I like how his undershirt is frilled and how he has that sash at his waist it reminds me of the genderbent design for my TWST OC! The fact that both he and Floyd have the eel emblem that resembles a heart is also really cute~

Lilis is my favorite design of the R cards!! There's a very good distribution of ruffles throughout the look, and his knotted skirts fit well with his personal flair.

I'm not a huge fan of the style of hat Cater's wearing (sorry to all the Cay-kun stans out there), but I can appreciate his look. His dress appears more militant than Trey's, and his posing is certainly more aggressive--it's nice to see him in this new light.

FHIBBAILAIBASIADIHBLBUDB EVERY TIME I SEE L*ONA NOW I'M GOING TO THINK OF THE ONE REBLOG I SAW THAT SAID "of course leona has his tits out again" BECAUSE THEY'RE RIGHT, HE'S LITERALLY THE GIRLIE THAT DRESSES SLUTTY ON HALLOWEEN AND SOMEHOW NEVER GETS COLD 😭 You go, king... Live your best life!!

Love L*ona-san’s new hairstyle here!! 👀

The way Floyd is posed reminds me of those people that walk around on stilts. I think I much prefer the coloration on Floyd's outfit than on Jade's, but I prefer Floyd's jacket to Jade's. I think Floyd's the best of the SR designs!

Shockingly, Vil's look doesn't stand out to me that much??? I enjoy his sash, but I don't immediately pick up on anything in his illustration that catches my eye.

His pose resembles that of a ballerina, which just makes me think about the time he assigned Epel and Deuce extra (ballet) dance lessons in book 5 ajdbhasivldsadued

Of the SSRs, Ace is definitely my favorite one. He just looks so dramatic soaking up that spotlight and trying to look cool while doing it... Bro's 100% thinking, "heheheheh, I'm SO awesome :))" in his head.

Ace's design also reminds me a lot of Jack Hearts (from Disney Villain Recruiters). Not sure if it was intentional or not, but I'm definitely super into it!

HHNNNNNGNGHGHHGHGNGNGHHGHGHGHGHHHHH I WANNA BITE HIS HEAD OFF AND BULLY HIM SO BAD, I WANNA WIPE THAT SMIRK OF FHIS DUMB FACEe Am I seriously about to revert back to my Brat Loving era for Trappola... Maybe so...

I was pretty much expecting a SSR Ace (because he's a trickster with a brother that works in an amusement park) and Ortho (literally a robot that became a real boy), but Kalim took me by surprise. In hindsight, I guess it makes sense though...? Kalim has a similar immature vibe as the other two (plus I do remember there being this one scene in Aladdin where the Sultan was dressed like a jester that was being maneuvered on puppet strings).

It's great that Kalim gets to be a little out of his usual element and make darker, more mysterious expressions like what we see in his new illustration. I'm not sure if I entirely agree with how he's dressed (the yellow jacket is WAY too bright), but I love his his coattails (???) trail behind him in waves.

OR-KUN MY SON 😭😭😭 As is the case with all of his gears, I adore how the devs creatively adapted clothing into metal parts for Ortho! The half-caplet is easily the best part of the whole look for me (the pattern on it reminds me of stars falling down)--and because Ortho has a smaller stature, the type of hat he's wearing isn't as offputting; it actually looks very cute on him.

ANYWAY, VERY HAPPY THAT ORTHO GETS TO HAVE A HALLOWEEN SSR TO MATCH HIS BROTHER'S HALLOWEEN SSR FROM LAST YEAR... They match!!!

... Is that the fucking cricket on Ortho’s cape... and the goldfish on Kalim’s scarf… AND THE CAT ON ACE’S WAIST… What does this meeeean 🤡

And now for my thoughts on the two new boys!! Honestly?? I don't actually have much to comment on in this regard because I try to reserve my judgment of characters until I've actually seen them in action. I haven't seen Pinocchio either, so I don't have a strong basis for what their personalities would be like based on their original Disney counterpart. I only vaguely understand that Honest John and Gideon trick children into visiting Pleasure Island... That's it, that's the full extent of my knowledge on that pair. I don't have any other expectations going in other than "yeah, these two are going to swindle me".

Gidel looks like a mix of Cheka and Ruggie to me (because of the hair and the eye shape). He seems like he’ll be the other guy’s goon, similar to how Jade and Floyd/Ruggie follow Azul/Leona. Nothing else for me to add, Gidel seems alright… Just a silly lil’ guy!

I have more… mixed thoughts on Ferro. One one hand, he looks like the exact kind of shady bitch I’d love. (You know, the ones that smile and lie and manipulate and drive a knife into your back and—LOOK, HE’S VERY J WORD CORE) On the other hand, I’m beating back the “you like cat/dog boys” allegations from my friends, so 💀 I can’t give in so easily/j

Looks-wise, Ferro’s iteration of the rat tail hair is not as ugly to me as Malleus’s is. (I think it’s because it looks more windswept!) I also really like how he dresses—very dapper 😌 and he can pull off green eyeshadow well!

I’m wondering how they’ll make Ferro different than the other con artists we’ve seen so far *eyes Octavinelle* but I’m keeping my hopes up since the devs did a good job remixing the “I have a dead brother and I feel immense guilt about it” backstory for Rollo (when Idia had a similar one). Looking forward to that~

I’m sure my thoughts will chance once I actually get to see them in the event! ^^ I’ll keep you posted. For now, I’ll keep cautious. (Actually, this fan art basically summarizes my current feelings on the two! I’m Rollo/j)

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everlastlady · 6 months

Text

Werewolf Boyfriend: Jacob Frye HCS

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✰- Author's Note: Hello, my assassins and templers this is my first AC story and I choose Jacob Frye since he's my favorite assassin from my favorite game. And since it's Halloween I decided to make Jacob Frye a werewolf because if he was a monster then he would definitely be a werewolf, I'm writing this from my phone late at night so there is no word count and who knows when I'll post this Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✰- Story Contains: Werewolf Jacob Frye, Fluff, Kissing, Gender neutral reader, protective Jacob, Romance, smut, violence, kissing, and long post.

✰- Posted: 11//2//2023

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Jacob Frye and Evie Frye the Frye twins who are werewolves and are from the brotherhood of monsters who work in the dark to protect the light. Jacob met you through the brotherhood and you told him what kind of monster you were and he found that fascinating, he found everything about you fascinating. He would always follow you around when with his tail wagging around him, excited to hear about your day or the mission he gets to go on with you. He's quite protective of you on these missions. Biting and clawing through any templers or enemies that dare try to hurt you.

Evie has to scold Jacob to not get distracted by you on these missions to never let missions interfere with the missions. But she quickly drops what she is saying whenever Jacob brings up Henry Green. But she still wishes for Jacob to stay focused so that he doesn't get hurt, she loves and cares about her brother. So she hopes that you are watching out for him when he gets distracted which you do have Jacob's back.

Jacob loves to lay across your lap as you run your fingers through his head. He just loves your head and back scratches. They feel like heaven to him, sometimes he'll fall asleep on you and you are just stuck there with him laying on you. At least he's warm so you eventually fall asleep and Evie or Edward come across you both and just chuckle at this adorable sight of how you to look falling asleep together on the couch.

Jacob loves to do combat training with you. But will do his best to go easy on you. He won't go to fast or rough but he also won't go to slow or soft. You are both assassins after all so no need to treat each other like glass. But Jacob loves to pin you down that it's awkward when people walk in especially Evie and Arno who were going use the training room.

" That whole silver bullet thing is just a bunch of rubbish. " Jacob would say before biting and tearing into the necks of a blighters and a templer who decided to mess with. You sat there on top of some boxes watching your werewolf lover just devour and shred a bunch of blighters and the templer. Giving him a bath wouldn't be easy but you did enjoy watching this scene.

He likes to sniff you a lot which means you can't hide anything from him. Because he'll sniff it out even when you aren't in a room anymore, he'll know you are there so whenever you hide from him. He'll know where to find him. Once you wanted to take a nap without him because it was too hot to cuddle with him. So you went somewhere else to nap, you told Evie to tell Jacob that you were out doing errands. She tried to tell you something but you quickly walked away. And before you knew it when you woke up feeling hot and aweaty. There was Jacob asleep right next to you and not letting go. You eventually gave up and just bought a fan.

Jacob will go out of his way to make sex with you amazing especially when he's in heat. He wants to have your back pressed against his chest as he pounds into you. His hand gripping your neck as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His thumb pressing against your tongue. Biting and licking your neck wanting to leave marks so people know who you belong to.

Never will let you go or let anyone hurt you.

#jacob frye #assassin creed #assassin creed syndicate #jacob frye x reader #werewolf jacob frye #werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster fucker #monster smut #ac #ac x reader

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iovesia · 1 year

Text

HIGHWAY TO HELL.

❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( the karate kid masterlist. )

synopsis: headcanons of johnny dating a reader in miyagi-do.

warnings: johnny is jealous. lovers to rivals to lovers?. slight angst & fluff. one cobra kai reference. not proof read.

pairings: johnny lawrence 𝒙 fem!reader.

josie's note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this was a request for anon, but i accidentally deleted the ask, i'm so sorry, but i hope you enjoy. — likes, & reblogs are highly appreciated ♡ !!

⠀

Johnny thinks you’re a total badass for doing karate. He loves having that as a way to bond with you, since karate is practically his whole life.

You definitely kept that fact that you’re training with Mr. Miyagi and Daniel on the down low. Whenever he asks what or where your dojo is, you quickly distract him with a kiss on the lips.

You love Johnny, but it boils your blood whenever you watch as he and the Cobras relentlessly torment Daniel. You constantly have to reprimand him for it.. which leads to a lot of arguing.

The secret’s finally out after the Halloween dance, when you, Daniel and, Mr. Miyagi marched into the Cobra Kai dojo. As Mr. Miyagi and Kreese argue, you couldn’t help but feel Johnny’s stare piercing into you.

⠀

“Why did you lie to me?” Johnny snaps. You recoil as he slams your locker door closed.

“I didn’t lie…” a sigh escapes your lips. “I just didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me that you're spending all your free-time with that punk!” He sneers, his lip curling into an ugly scowl.

"Yeah, well that punk is my friend! You promised me that you guys would leave Daniel alone. Next thing I see, you guys are kicking the shit out of him—" You retort angrily, your nails digging into your palm.

"Oh, friend, yeah? You're getting pretty close to your friend." Johnny scoffs, the venom dripping from his voice.

⠀

Yeah… Johnny’s jealousy spikes through the roof once he connects the dots. All those times you spent at your karate practices, or were busy over the weekend was to train with Daniel Larusso —his enemy— against Cobra Kai, no less.

You probably (temporarily) break up after that, both of you firmly dedicated to your side of the karate “war”.

You try to avoid him as much as humanly possible. When you see him in the halls, you grab Daniel’s arm and turn yourselves around. You sit at the furthest table away from him and his group at lunch.

Although he’s unreasonably angry with you, he misses you so much. He misses your jokes, sparring together, going on dates with you to Golf ‘n Stuff, riding with you on his motorbike. But unfortunately his loyalty to Kreese and Cobra Kai triumphs over your relationship.

When the All-Valley finally rolls around, you wait on the sidelines, anxiously watching Daniel get through the first few rounds. You try to keep your gaze away from a certain blond cobra, but a few stolen glances let you know that Johnny is well on his way to the final round.

There’s a short intermission before the final match. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you decide to get some water. Walking out into the hall, you find the last person you expected standing in front of the water fountain.

⠀

“Johnny?”

“Ready to watch me kick your boyfriends’ ass?” Johnny smirks, taking a sip from his water bottle, his gaze firmly avoiding you.

“He’s not my boyfriend. You are.. or at least you were until you turned into this jealous prick,” you quipped, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself.

“You were supposed to be on my side!”

“I am on your side!”

“No, you’re not!” You failed to miss the way his eyes become glassy, and a pang of guilt bloomed in your chest. “You—”

The interrupting intercom blared throughout the gym, echoing into the hallway. Johnny takes a shallow breath, unfamiliar nerves wracking through his body. “Whatever… I guess I’ll see you out there rooting for me.” He finished in a sarcastic manner, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I’m always rooting for you, Johnny.”

⠀

Much to your surprise, Daniel managed to beat Johnny, and was crowned as the new All-Valley champion. Although you were proud of your friend, part of you felt sorry for Johnny.

Even more so, once you went outside the gym and watched as he was berated and assaulted by his own Sensei. Mr. Miyagi thankfully came to his aid, successfully knocking down Kreese.

You slowly approached Johnny and the other Cobras, who were perched miserably on the sidewalk. You sat down next to the bloody-nosed blond, wrapping an arm around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

Miyagi-do or not, in the end, you’d still pick him— every time.

#johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #the karate kid x reader #the karate kid imagine #william zabka imagine #william zabka x reader #the karate kid #80s

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evilwickedme · 4 months

Note

hey it’s me from the Batman posts! (the one that left the tags abt wanting to get into Batman but having no clue where to start)

If its not too much trouble, I’d love any advice on where to start with Batman or Batfam(?) stuff, I saw someone suggest reading the Batman: Wayne Family Adventures thing on webtoon as an intro to the characters so I’ve been doing that, but I’ve got no clue about any of the official comics or shows/movies/etc. I’ve never read a comic series before so everything is super new to me.

I know different series(?)/versions(?) can be wildly different bc of different writers and stuff, I definitely trust your taste on what would be good / enjoyable bc the posts you’ve been reblogging are like 90% of whats gotten me interested in the first place

Thank you, and absolutely no rush!!

Hey I am legit SO happy that you sent me this ask this is literally my favorite thing to do!!!!

So to start with I do actually agree that wfa is a good starting point but for a different reason than I feel most people would recommend it. The thing about wfa is that it has a consistent design for every character, is humorous, touches not only on the main batfamily members but also many extended members, other noteworthy people in Gotham, and the batfamily's cast of friends and teammates as well. This means that while its approach to characterization is incredibly fanon-y, it's a good basis for how to continue. You read wfa, and you know that Dick is the first robin, wears ridiculous costumes, was batman for a bit, is nightwing, part of the teen titans... this isn't a lot, but it's just enough to orient yourself before jumping into some of the most convoluted art ever created, aka the comic world.

Another tip I'm gonna give you is to let yourself be confused. I think the people who end up sticking with comics are people who are aware that if they pick up a comic it's very likely the writers and artists have read and worked on comics that you haven't read yet or even heard of, so you're always going to be missing something. That's fine. If something is really important to the plot, it gets explained; if it's not, it's windowdressing. Often there'll be little boxes saying what comic and issue they're referencing, so if you find it interesting you can just go read it - otherwise, if it's not there, you can google it, or go to any comic fan and ask "hey do you know what this is about?" and if they know, they will answer. There is nothing a comic fan wants more than to explain how to get into their favorite character/s, trust me.

Anyway this has been a very wordy intro but here are some potential starting points for the batfamily!

Bruce Wayne

You know who he is. Pick up an issue of Batman or Detective Comics and he's there. Pick up an issue of any other DC comic and there's like a 30% chance he's there too.

Batman: The Long Halloween

Noir style, investigative, early in batman's career, two face's origin story

It has a sequel-ish story called Batman: Dark Victory that's almost as good

Batman: Hush

Batman: Year One

Frankly there's not going to be much information in this comic you don't already know, but also, it's a classic, so might as well

Batman: A Death in the Family & Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (crossover with the new teen titans)

First story is Jason's death, second is Tim's introduction and arguably the start of the batfamily being a family

Tim drags Dick back into the fray in ALPOD. It's just sort of the kind of thing he does

Do NOT confuse A Death in the Family with Death OF the Family, which is a much newer story, and Not Good

Batman: Under the Red Hood

Jason's villain arc! More details below

Batman himself isn't actually my favorite but you know he's got some decent stuff since he's, uh, the main character. DC doesn't have a multiverse the way Marvel does - and getting into that would be a whole separate ask - but their elseworlds are stories about the characters in different situations. Some ones I've heard good things about include Gotham by Gaslight, Dark Knights of Steel, Batman: Last Knight on Earth, and I keep meaning to get into Batman: White Knight, which is a whole other universe on its own. I've been trying to get into more modern batman stuff and unfortunately I just haven't clicked with anything.

Dick Grayson

Guy has been in a lot of things. If you read a random Batman comics from before 1980, there's a good chance he'll be there.

Teen Titans and The New Teen Titans and Titans (1980s-2000s)

I haven't read enough of these to say much of anything, but he's a founding member of the TT

Nightwing

His post-Robin superhero identity. At first only present in NTT and occasional Batman comics, but eventually he gets his own miniseries in the early 90s, followed by an ongoing. Recently-ish started reading them and they're angsty and very 90s in a lot of ways but I'm enjoying it

Modern Nightwing titles also exist. For sure.

Batman & Robin by Morrison

In one of DC's ten million crises, Bruce "dies", and after a short story called Battle for the Cowl, Dick ends up becoming Batman. Damian is his Robin. It's an interesting time for batman comics, although not necessarily the best writing that Dick has ever gotten.

Batman: The Dark Mirror

Also a great story for the Gordons. Bruce is back from the dead, but Dick is still Batman in Gotham. This was my first even Batman comic and it's really good.

Obviously there's other stories, such as Grayson, where he becomes a super spy for a bit. There's a million and a half reading lists for Dick out there as he's a massively popular character and he's one of the characters DC is pushing the most right now. As with all the rest of these, these are good entry points; from there I trust you to find your way

Barbara Gordon

The original Batgirl, sort of (nobody really brings up bette kane unless they're pointing out that babs wasn't the original Batgirl, she's just not important). She appears sporadically in silver and bronze age batman comics and detective comics, but she quits being Batgirl shortly before being raped and shot in the spine by the joker in Batman: the Killing Joke, which I purposefully did not put on my rec list.

Birds of Prey

Babs-as-Oracle at her best.

Batman: The Dark Mirror

Babs' long lost brother comes back to town. It's fucked up.

I've been reliably told to stay away from her Batgirl runs - most people who are a fan of the character don't like that they retconned Oracle away and it's mostly not very well written. There's a comic called batgirls that lasted about a year that included her, and it's okay.

Jason Todd (my beloved)

MY MAN

Batman: Second Chances

Collected edition of Jason as Robin, so much fun. Extremely silly at times since it's the 80s.

Batman: A Death in the Family

For obvious reasons.

Then he's just sort of dead for 17 years. He shows up in heaven in a Green Arrow issue and is occasionally brought up or shown as a hallucination, but that's about it.

Batman: Under the Red Hood

There's a new crime lord in town and he's so smart and talented and hot omg I wonder who he is!!!!

The collected edition also comes with the annual that reveals how he came back to life

Task Force Z

This shouldn't be as good as it is.

Jason gets recruited to work with a team of undead villains

Jason gets called a hot a bunch of times, and is shirtless a lot. This doesn't matter but you know, like, yeah it does.

For Robin!Jason there's also Batman: The Cult - which I finally got my hands on recently but haven't read yet. For Red Hood!Jason there's lots of stuff, but most of it isn't very good or is actively bad. Most people will tell you to stay away from Red Hood and the Outlaws, and they're right, although the 2016 run is better. Most people will tell you to read Batman & Red Hood: Cheer, and they're wrong, it's ass.

Tim Drake

Frankly this boy has no flops. Or very close to it.

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying

Tim figured out who Batman and Robin are at AGE NINE. Respect.

After this he appears in various Batman and detective comics issues, I haven't read any of these.

Robin

The first Robin to get his own ongoing! Like with Nightwing, it started with a miniseries (a few of them, actually) and got turned into a long running series from there. Lasted like 200 issues, too.

Tim FUCKS.

Not Steph's first appearance, but most of her appearances pre-2009 are in this series.

Young Justice 1998

It's insane in all the best ways. Cars have sex on panel. They play baseball to save the world on an alien planet. A power of friendship speech prevents the end of the world. In the first issue, a woman develops breasts so big she falls on her face.

This team eventually breaks apart and Tim along with 3 other teen heroes nicknamed the core four (Superboy, Impulse, & Wonder Girl II) become part of Teen Titans 2003, which I haven't read and is also a bit of a flop era fashion wise for everyone anyway. I do have the volume of TT03 where they meet the versions of themselves from the future and I plan on reading that soon-ish.

In the mid 2000s basically everyone Tim loves dies. Steph died in 2004 ish after a very short stint as Robin. Tim's mom dies, then his dad is murdered, and it's unclear what happened to his step mom, but she was in Bludhaven, which had an atomic bomb dropped on it. Impulse becomes kid flash becomes the flash becomes murdered, and superboy gets killed while saving the world. Steph does turn out to not be dead after all and Impulse and Superboy come back from the dead eventually but by God he's having a tough year BEFORE Bruce "dies".

Red Robin 2009

After Bruce "dies" and Dick becomes Batman, Dick makes Damian his Robin and nobody believes Tim that Bruce is still alive, so he steals the Red Robin costume and goes on a mission to save his dad!

Not a comic to read first because it's so uncharacteristic of Tim as a person, but definitely something to read as soon as possible, because it's ridiculously good.

After flashpoint/n52 Tim doesn't have his own ongoing for a while, but he does come out as bisexual in an early issue of Batman Urban Legends (2021) and he got his own ongoing called Tim Drake: Robin in 2022 which was ugly AF and yet cancelled far too soon. There's a Young Justice run from 2019 I haven't read yet.

Stephanie Brown

For her I would go to Google, bc I haven't gone down the rabbithole enough for her yet. I know her first appearance was in a batman comic where she became spoiler to spoil her dad's plans - her dad being a third rate villain called the cluemaster - and she almost kills him, so good for her. Afterwards she appears every once in a while in various comics, most notably in Robin, where she and Tim as Robin start dating despite him knowing her identity but not the other way around.

Robin 60s (I don't remember the exact issues)

Steph gives birth and gives her baby up for adoption

Robin 126-128

Steph becomes Robin when Tim quits for his still-alive-but-not-for-long dad.

War Games

Steph does a fucky wucky and accidentally starts a gang war which gets her killed

There's another Robin arc where she comes back and it turns out she was never dead, Leslie (the family doctor) simply faked her death and sent her to Africa to recover

Batgirl 2009

Her first and only solo ongoing, but it's really good

She also appears a lot in Cass's Batgirl ongoings, and occasionally shows up in yj98. Her most recent series in Batgirls, which isn't very good but her interactions with Cass are very gay, and we've all been shipping it for 20 years at this point, so frankly it's long overdue. Unlikely to become canon tho, unfortunately.

Cassandra Cain

She doesn't use a lot of words, so neither will I. Probably.

No Man's Land

Frankly I am terrified to read this, it's so many goddamn issues, but this is her first appearance. I have one "volume" and it's as big as the fucking Bible.

Batgirl 2000

She's the first Batgirl to get an ongoing. The one from 2008 I've been reliably told isn't very good. She's absolutely terrifying in the 2000 one, I approve.

Outsiders 2016

Supposed to also be good for Duke content. I think at this point she's going by Orphan? Idk she's had a lot of names.

Idk I prefer Black Bat

Spirit World

Mini series that recently ended. Soooooo good. Alyssa Wong is a top contender for favorite modern writer.

She's mostly a background character. Bc DC is both sexist AND racist. She was also in batgirls.

Damian Wayne

Frankly he's my least favorite of the batkids, but that's not his fault, he's been a victim of a lot of really racist writing.

Batman: Son of the Demon

Somehow both his origin AND an elseworlds that doesn't count. Not required reading, but Bruce and Talia are madly in love in this.

Batman by Grant Morrison

After UTRH and before Dick was forced to become Batman Morrison reintroduced Talia's son, who in this version was a rape baby bc apparently brutalia weren't in love and Talia drugged Bruce. Fucking fine, I guess.

His character growth during his time as robin is sweet tho.

Robin 2021

His only solo ongoing, pretty good

Super Sons

He had two team up comics with then fellow child Jon Kent, son of superman, and it was fucking adorable. Then they aged up Jon to 17, so they're still friends, but Jon has his own shit going on.

Duke Thomas

He's REALLY new, and I haven't read any of it, I'm sorry.

Robin War

Batman and the Signal - I finally got my hands on the first issue of this last week!

The Outsiders 2016

Frankly they should capitalize on the Duke & Cass friendship/siblingship more often.

Alfred Pennyworth

I haven't read it, but there's a series called Pennyworth about his days as a spy for the crown. Supposed to be pretty good.

Kate Kane

The Jewish lesbian batwoman of our dreams

Batwoman: Elegy

Her introduction

Also, it's written by Greg Rucka, and if he can do one thing, it's write sapphic women. I'm not even joking.

Get the newer edition that has both of her original Rucka stories

Batwoman ongoings

She's had a couple, they're both supposed to be pretty solid, I've only read a few issues here and there

Batman in other media

Animated: I'm currently watching Batman the Animated Series for the first time and it seems to really get Bruce as a character, even if Robin will be there one episode and his existence will be a plot hole in the next. The Justice League animated series has also been fun so far. Teen Titans have gotten a number of animated adaptations all of which have pretty strong followings. There's an animated show called "Young Justice" which is a Teen Titans show and I refuse to watch it (it has a very devout following, but all that means is that the Young Justice - All Media Types tag on ao3 is just the same as Young Justice Cartoon and I have to filter heavily when looking for yj98 fics). Lego Batman is a REALLY fun film, and I think it turned into a whole franchise.

Live action TV: I have watched the first season of both Titans and Gotham, but both of those were before I was into the batfamily as a concept. My impression of Titans is overall negative and my impression of Gotham is overall positive.

Live action movies: There are so many Goddamn Batman movies. I like the Dark Knight Trilogy, but even calling it "based on" the Dark Knight comic trilogy is giving it a lil more credit than it deserves. The Batman 2022 is massively popular with the comic fandom for a reason - I'm not a big fan of it, but I did enjoy laughing at the movie so at least there's that. Batfleck sucks. I haven't seen anything else, up to and including the Joker movie. Oh, and Birds of Prey was really good, but that's not Cass.

Video games: The Arkham trilogy is well loved and I have indeed just bought it, but I haven't gotten to it because I'm currently working on Gotham Knights and uh. Okay so listen. This game is a lot of fun and I will be finishing it. But it's like. Got a massively antisemitic plot point. I can't even say I don't recommend it, I'm genuinely enjoying the game a lot. But I've never seen anybody bring this up, and it's bugging me.

ANYWAY I'm sure I've missed a LOT but this is introductory so you know I'm giving myself grace. There's characters I completely skipped and I'm sure mega fans of characters I haven't read much of will be offended that I said such and such about them but you know it's only been about a year and a half since I started reading dc comics and I'm still figuring it all out. And I probably will still be figuring it out for the next decade. To me that's actually part of the fun of it.

#batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #damian wayne #kate kane #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #batfam #dc #reading list #gail speaks #ask #fageles

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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 7 months

Text

Mama's Boy

Depressed!Eddie Munson x Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: A very normal day at the Munson house. You were happy to visit your sweet boyfriend, too bad for you, he couldn't say the same thing. He wasn't in the mood and wanted to be alone. You had never seen him like this and that's why you had to ask Wayne for help.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Insicure!Eddie, Depressed!Eddie, Patient!Reader, angst, blurb, fluff, hurt/confort, theme about alcohol addiction, theme about sigarettes, theme about drugs, past traumas, mommy issue, suicide, bad language, Eddie act like little child. (Whatever you now read about this one-shot is made up. Nothing I've written is canonical. Everything I have written is nothing that has been seen or confirmed in the Duffer Brothers' Stranger Things series!!!)

𝐀/𝐍: Sorry for my english, this is not my native languages. Please support new writers and reblog!Hope you enjoy! Anyway, if you shake your phone/tablet the daisies move :/ (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

It was a simple fall day in Hawkins. The streets were quiet and the days too, while the citizens were already preparing for the Halloween party that would take place in a few months.

Autumn was perhaps one of your favorite seasons and apparently also that of your metalhead boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

Today as expected, you got ready to go to his trailer. You were supposed to go out together to pick up a movie at Family Video and spend the afternoon like that. You were happy to see Eddie again after a long week due to your studies. You were finally free and no one could take that smile off your face. Or at least that's what you thought...

You knocked cheerfully on the door only to hear an "Coming!" from the other side. His voice was hoarse. It wasn't Eddie. In fact, Uncle Wayne opens the door for you. He gave you a warm smile and invited you in but after you stepped into the trailer his smile disappeared turning his face into a worried look. You wanted to know what was wrong, but you thought maybe it wasn't any of your business. Maybe it was personal stuff and you didn't want to intrude. So you looked around noticing that Eddie wasn't there. "Is Eddie home?" You put your arms behind your back waiting for a response from the adult as he headed towards the kitchen counter.

He nodded "Yes, he's in his room but..." He didn't continue his sentence, in fact he seemed to be looking for the right words. You got worried thinking something bad had happened but then Wayne spoke "If you want I'll call him but I'm warning you kid, he's not well" His tone was low and you could see the concern "What happened?" You asked while hoping that nothing serious had happened. Wayne sighed and then pulled a photo out of his left pocket and placed it on the counter for you as you walked over.

It was old and what's more it was also in black and white. In the photo you could see the panorama of a wonderful beach with two subjects present in the photograph: a woman and a child. Both had their backs turned as they looked at the sea or perhaps the sunset. The woman, even if you couldn't see her face, was definitely beautiful with comfortable clothes. The child's features appeared to be five or six years old. You were confused but let the man in front talk to you.

"Today my nephew and I cleaned out the closet," he began, continuing to talk "In one of the junk we found an old photo album with him and his mother" at that news I felt a great weight on your chest.

You knew that Eddie was without his parents and that he had lived most of his life with his Uncle Wayne, but he had never openly told you what had happened to them.

"After we settled everything, he took the photo album and locked himself in the room. I tried to talk to him, but he said he wanted to be alone" You didn't know exactly how to react. You wanted to know more but at the same time you wanted to go console your boyfriend and find out how he is doing. After a moment of reflection and silence you decided to ask questions.

"If I may ask Wayne...what happened to Eddie's parents?" You were unsure whether to ask since the topic seemed sensitive. The man looked away for a moment and then took a cigarette and put it between his lips and motioned for you to go outside. You followed him, you both exited the trailer and Wayne sat down on the steps in front of the front door while you sat down next to him. He took out his lighter, lighting the cigarette, inhaling the smoke and then releasing it.

"Sorry for taking you out, I'd like to talk to you about it in private" He said. You nodded understanding his reasons.

"My nephew never told you about them, did he?" He asked, surely knowing the answer, but it seemed he wanted to be sure. "No, never. He only told me that they died, he never told me how" You replied as you fixed a lock of your hair feeling the cool air hitting your skin making you shiver. Wayne was silent for a moment, continued to smoke as some ash fell to the ground and he sighed. "My nephew. Before living with me, he lived with his mother" The question arises spontaneously "And his father?"

"That asshole brother of mine? He ran away. When he found out that his wife was pregnant he ran. I never heard from him until I was told that he died in a car accident" you were shocked at the news "His mother was desperate, she hadn't accepted being left like that" her eyes looked at the surrounding landscape of the Trailer Park as more smoke released from her lips "She raised him until he was six and then one day we found her dead on the sofa in her house" you were speechless and every part of Wayne's story made you feel bad, you had become a stone statue no longer knowing how to react and comment on those words of his coming from a difficult past, but the story wasn't finished.

"After my brother left, all she did was drink and take care of Eddie when she could. Most of the time I helped her and tried to keep her away from alcohol, but she never wanted to listen to me." Wayne sighed as if he were throwing himself into memories "She then started using narcotics and smoking more often, it had now become her daily routine..."

You wanted to say something but you was immediately interrupted by him "When she died for my nephew was a hard blow at that age. He loved his mother very much...even if every now and then she forgot that he had a son to raise and spent the hours watching television drunk" This time the man looked at you and noticed your sweet soul worried "I can't imagine what it was like for him, losing a mother at such a young age..." you said it in a whisper and Wayne heard you and nodded "It was very difficult for my nephew. His mother was everything for him, even if it doesn't seem like it now...he may seem scary but in reality he has always been a mama's boy" Wayne smiled and his words had the same effect on you.

You had never thought of Eddie as a mama's boy, and it made you feel tender. "Really?" You asked as if you were in disbelief and he chuckled "Really. At the age of five he was already helping her, asking her for help and taking advice from her for anything. However, he never came to me to ask me for something, for my nephew it was obligatory ask mom" You were touched by this side of Eddie that you didn't know. You were really curious to see how he would act if his mother was still here.

"His mother though? How did she react to it?" You asked and Wayne smirked again "Well, yes, she was happy to have this relationship with Eddie, they spent time together, even if it wasn't much, but for my nephew that time was enough for him to be happy" your smile widened hearing those words "But as I told you before, she forgot about him and spent the rest of the days on the sofa. At times like those I took my nephew home with me so he wouldn't see the horrible state of his mother..." Wayne finished the cigarette and threw it on the ground, stomping on it. "Has he ever thought that his mother didn't love him?" Your lips moved by themselves, you didn't know where this one came from but you tried to identify with that little Eddie who was just trying to stay close to his mother even in the most difficult moment, but she was psychologically destroyed and let her uncle get away with it took care of it for him, you would surely have thought something like "Does mom love me?" or “Why does mommy do this?” something similar.

Wayne nodded "Yes...I remember he told me this on an ordinary day while he was having lunch with me. I didn't know how to answer him, I mean, how can you tell your five year old nephew that his mother takes drugs, drinks and that does he do anything but smoke? And what's more, she only loves it because it reminds her of my brother?" That answer left you stunned and Wayne seemed to understand your reaction "Exactly. His mother, as much as she might love him as a son, loved him even more just because he reminded her of my fucking brother... she always said that Eddie looked a lot like him" The cool air moved your hair slightly "And that's it?" He glanced at you "Do I have to be honest? Not at all, it's all her mother. Especially now" You let out a giggle.

"But now I don't know how he must feel years later. Now he knows things that we hid from him as a child and knowing the truth certainly hurts, but he must learn to face it" You looked at your shoes while thinking about what to say "Do you think he has he gotten over his mother's death?" It took Wayne a while to answer "No. I'm sure of this...As I told you, his mother's death was a hard blow for him and he still suffers from it today" his look was sad, and not do you think you've ever seen this sensitive side of Wayne "I tried to do my best to reassure him and be close to him, but my nephew will never be able to get the image of his mother lying on the sofa lifeless out of his head..." his eyes began to become shiny and you instinctively put a hand on the man's shoulder "Hey, you did a great job with him. You may not have managed to heal that wound of his but you healed many others during his life and I'm sure you never let him lack anything." Wayne smiled big and seemed to feel better "Thanks kid" He stood up and you did the same "Can I talk to him?" You asked as you both walked back into the trailer. He nodded "One moment..." He told you as he headed towards his nephew's room.

After a couple of minutes Wayne came back to you motioning that you could go into the room. Before leaving you took the black and white photograph and headed towards Eddie's room. You found him sitting on the bed looking at the photo album and it made your heart ache. As soon as he saw you he whispered a soft "Hey" while you whispered a soft "Hi" and sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, today we were supposed to go to Family Video and catch a movie to watch-"

"Don't worry Eds, it's okay, it'll be for another time" Your tone was sweet, making him understand that you didn't care about seeing a fucking movie now, but rather being close to him.

"Did my uncle tell you everything?" He said as he looked at you. As soon as his eyes met yours you could see his wet cheeks. He had cried, and it broke your heart in two. You hated seeing him like this and just wished you could console him as best you could. You nodded "How are you?" He didn't seem to want to answer you. Your hand began to caress his back as your eye fell on the album. “I miss her..." Was hi answer. You now saw a color photo of a woman, who you understood to be very beautiful, holding little Eddie by the hand. "I can tell,"

"She's very beautiful and looks a lot like you" now you understood Wayne's words. Even if you didn't know what Eddie's father looked like, he sure as hell couldn't have looked like Eddie looked like his mother, they were identical "Uncle Wayne tells me that too, but she always said I looked like my father" you could hear the note of sadness and contempt falling from his lips "And that's why she left..." You saw how he bit his lower lip tightly, surely keeping himself from shedding tears as you moved closer to him "Why do you think that?"

"Why is it like this... I ruined her life. Every day he woke up looking at the spitting image of my father and that's why he despaired on the sofa ruining himself day by day" Damn it hurt to see him like that. You immediately wanted to hug him tightly "But she loved you and you loved her right?" He nodded "Yes, i love her very much but she didn't love me and she had her reasons, I was the cause of her pain and it ended with her death" Eddie hid his face with the palm of his hand. “I ruined his life Y/N… I'm ruining the lives of everyone around me, starting with Uncle Wayne and-”

"Eddie look at me" A note of seriousness came out of your mouth and you didn't let him finish. Not after he started shedding tears. He looked up and looked at you and with your free hand you cupped his cheek, his eyes were bright "You're not ruining anyone's life Eds. Get it through your head-" "How can you say that? I should never have been born in the first place, so she wouldn't have died" He said irritated and immediately more tears hit his cheeks.

"What happened to your mother is not your fault, nor was your birth. Maybe it's true, your mother loved you above all because you reminded her of the man who abandoned her, but that doesn't mean she doesn't has ever truly loved you" You took out the photograph Wayne had shown you. "This photo is of you and her, Eddie. And all these others too" you pointed to the album "You were always her baby, and as hard as life was on you that doesn't mean she stopped loving you as a son"

"I don't know exactly the whole story, but I know that there is no more beautiful bond than that between a son and a mother, and yours was a beautiful bond Eds and it certainly didn't lead her to kill herself" Fuck... he started to sob "You haven't ruined anyone's life honey, not your uncle or even the people around you. If your mother isn't here today it's certainly not because of you, she was suffering too much and wasn't able to move forward" With your thumb you dried the tears Eddie was shedding "But at least she left with the knowledge of having given birth to a wonderful son" you wrapped him in your arms while he let himself go, wetting the cotton of your t-shirt with his his tears. You gave him a light kiss on his scalp as you stroked his hair. "You are the most beautiful thing your uncle could have asked for and the same thing goes for me. You are one of the sweetest and most special people I could have ever asked for. Every day you improve my life so don't even think about something like that" you whispered in his ear as he held you tighter.

Eddie didn't answer but vented his tears some more before trying to compose himself.

You didn't accept that your boyfriend talked about him that way. His horrible past had left him with too many insecurities and doubts after his mother's death that a poor child like him at that age didn't have the strength to face. An image of a little Eddie spending moments with his mother appeared in your mind. The afternoon, the first day of school, the days with his uncle. Your imagination of that sweet, beautiful child was overwhelmed when you then thought about how he and Wayne found his mother dead. Coming home, ready to hug his mother again but she was gone forever. You felt a lump in your throat as you thought about how he must have felt when he tried to wake up his mother. The tears and desperation he felt, something you absolutely couldn't understand but imagining it was definitely heartbreaking. No one would have tolerated it...

Eddie was one of those people who never fully enjoyed his parents. He never knew his father and his mother had passed away dying of an overdose. You begin to think that in all respects you were lucky compared to him. You had a mother and a father, even if they were distant because they no longer felt the love they had before, but they were still your parents. A feeling of guilt invaded your abdomen thinking about how although you had a mother who takes care of you, you didn't have the relationship that Eddie had with his and that perhaps he would like to have again. You were also envious of this, yes. But you felt like somehow it was your fault. You have always had arguments with your parents, especially with your mother and now you realize that not everyone was lucky enough to have a mother who takes care of you.

You really appreciated what your mother did, but you never admitted it and maybe that was the reason why you didn't have a good relationship. You could sense that something in you had changed as you caressed the boy's dark curls, pressing light kisses from his ear to the crook of his neck. His breathing had returned to regularity but he was still sniffling and sobbing slightly. Now you felt somehow good, lighter with less weight on your shoulders. You wanted to be even closer to him than you already were and somehow heal his wound that was still dripping blood if touched with a finger.

"Feeling better big boy?" You used the nickname he loved so much. He just nodded. "If you need anything you know you can tell me right?" He nodded again and gave him another kiss near his ear. It was hot, actually burning hot. You could tell all that heat was from the outburst, the crying and even the embarrassment. He absolutely didn't want you to see him in that state and be able to understand it. Eddie had always been a guy who preferred to do everything alone and without anyone's help, which is reasonable, you had been there too...

But Eddie will also have realized that obstacles are not always faced with one's own strength. Sure, you've always been there for him and definitely Wayne too, but you didn't know how many times Eddie needed his mother. To go to her and ask for help or hug her if he was sick, something Eddie desperately wanted. You felt his grip tighten on you again as he started to sob again "Shh Shh Shh...it's okay Eds" a hiss came out of your sweet lips and after a couple of minutes he broke the hug trying hastily to clean his face “I-I'm really sorry, you shouldn't see me like this.”

"Why do you say this?" He shakes his head "Beacuse...well you don't-" you didn't let him finish "You didn't want me to find out about you and your mother?" He looked at you in surprise as he nodded quickly “Did you by any chance think I would judge you?” He looked at you and was afraid to give you the answer, because even though he loved you to death and had known you for a long time he was afraid that you would actually judge him, he didn't answer "You know I would never judge you, especially on something like that," you placed your hand on his. "Knowing about you and your mother makes me happy, because I know that you loved her very much, and that she loved you despite everything" now your foreheads were touching "I'm sure your mother is very happy to see the mama's boy grow up" you smiled and he did the same and you pressed a kiss to his forehead "Let's do this..." Eddie looked at you with his puppy eyes "How about I'll bring you a glass of water and then, if you want to, can you tell me about your mother?" You asked. You couldn't lie, those photos intrigued you and you wanted to get to know Mrs. Munson a little through those beautiful photographs.

He sniffed and you nodded smiling at you "Now big boy, dry these tears, I'll be right back ok?"

“Okay” He said and you gave him a kiss on the lips which widened his smile.

And so you spent the afternoon with your boyfriend. Sitting leaning against the headboard of the bed while together you browsed through those photos showing off smiles while you were wrapped in each other's arms. Eddie's head rested on your shoulder while yours rested on his head. He looked up when you finally closed the photo album "Thank you sweetheart" He said as you caressed his scalp "Whenever you want big boy, you know that I'm always there for you"

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you” his chocolate brown eyes got lost in yours.

"Well, don't think about it then. Just think that now I'm here with you" He chuckled and you both smiled at each other as your sweet boyfriend fell asleep in your arms.

Even though he was now a grown man, Eddie was still a mama's boy.

#eddie munson fluff #stranger things eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things #mommy issues #mama's boy #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #Spotify #dominic fike #blurb #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson comfort

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redahlia-writes · 6 months

Text

practical magic. | javier peña x ofc

Abstract: Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart?

There were some things, after all, that Helena Goode knew for certain:

Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.

Words: 12k

Content: original female character (helena goode); alternative universe, magic, death, ghosts, cursing, mentions of drugs, mentions of an abusive relationship, mildly suggestive language, inspo both from the movie and the book

A/N: it's still halloween, right? i'm sorry for the late late posting but, alas, shit happens. i hope you all enjoy this nevertheless <3

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

also on AO3 - masterlist

He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards. He can flip pancakes in the air. He'll be marvellously kind. And his favorite shape will be a star. And he’ll have eyes like chocolate, worthy of honesty.

Helena Goode often thought about the petals blowing in the air after her Amas Veritas, her true love. Years had gone by since then—she’d been just a kid, wishing on her true love, her perfect love. Thinking it could not exist—for how could it, when all those women came crying in her aunts’ kitchen in the middle of the night? She’d wished for what she thought could never come to her.

And then there had been Frankie—her love, definitely not perfect, but good, so good. And gone, gone forever, because she had loved him so much. Or so she had thought—maybe that hadn’t been real, maybe there was no such thing as real love, contrary to what her sister said. After all her aunts had played a part in her marriage, and for so long after Frankie’s death she’d tried to believe none of it had been real, so that it would hurt less. So that she would not die of a broken heart.

But, in spite of everything, in spite of her bitterness, in spite of her pain, in spite of the loss, she knew some things had been real. Like the coffee he made her in the morning before leaving for work, like the dinners she fixed before he came back, like the colour they picked to paint the walls of their house; like all the times she’d listened for his whistling as he came back from work; like his kisses, and like their two beautiful daughters; like the laughter during the day and the nights spent awake; like the normal life they’d began living, and the shop they’d dreamed of opening together that now belonged to her only.

Like the State Investigator who stood in front of her at the front door, asking after her sister’s boyfriend. A boyfriend she knew to be dead and buried right there in the backyard. Fuck, she kept thinking, looking at the man in front of her—his eyebrows arched, lips parted under a neatly trimmed moustache, eyes dark as chocolate, and—

“I’m sorry?” she asked, clearing her throat. Dry throat. Sweaty palms. Tongue-tied.

“Is your sister home?” She knew he’d asked that already, and he was being mighty patient about it. “I’d like to speak with her, ma’am,” and then, because she had not moved an inch, “nothing to worry about, really. Just routine questions.”

“Sure,” again Helena cleared her throat, and willed her legs to move. She stepped back, opening the door fully so that she could let him through. “Come on in, I’ll go get her.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, over and over as the man nodded and stepped in, walking past her into the entrance—he smelled of coffee and tobacco, of the desert he came from. Helena closed the door and wiped her hands down the front of her shirt, which she suddenly realised belonged to one of her daughters, with rhinestones adorning the front. Fuck.

“Kitchen is just on your left, I’ll be right back.”

Phoebe Goode was trying her best. Each night she dreamed about James—his eyes, old and clear, staring at her—and each morning she tried to stop carrying him with her, to forget he ever existed, even though she could still see him on her face, in the bruises around her eye, in the split lip on the point of healing—thanks to her sister salve, the one that smelled of roses. She was trying her best, ignoring the awful fact she felt him still, knowing that the deepest relationship with a man of her whole life was with a dead man.

So she wore blue for protection, and had asked Emma, her niece, to lock her cigarettes away, and tried to sit in silence to meditate and push him away, out of her mind, out of her life for good. She was even back at the house, where she’d sworn she would never go back, because it was safer, because of her sister.

Her sister, running up the stairs, out of breath, in a shirt that did not belong to her and a skirt that must’ve been older than her, so dishevelled-looking Phoebe felt her heart drop for a moment, figured the next words out of her mouth would be James, and honestly anything after that could be awful, because he was. Had been.

“There’s a cop. Agent. Someone,” Helena was gasping, her voice an alarmed whisper. “He’s looking for you. And James—but he asked for you.”

“That’s fine, we can manage,” perhaps the meditation was working, because even after hearing his name she could still think without panic closing her throat. “I’ll tell him I haven’t seen him in days, and I came here because we’re done. And if he asks, you’ll just say—” she stopped, frowning at her sister as she shook her head. “What? You’ll just say you’ve never seen him.”

“Here’s the thing,” Helena reached for her chest, still shaking her head, still out of breath. Her head was spinning, and her heart—God, her heart—felt like it was about to explode. “I don’t think I can lie to him.”

“Of course you can,” Phoebe scoffed—but her sister was still having a hard time breathing, her eyes so wide she looked like a deer spooked half to death. “Get over yourself, Lena. It’s fine. You’re just having a panic attack.”

“I don’t think it’s that. I just—the way he looks at you,” she inhaled sharply, a strangled noise scratching her throat and making her sound like a wounded animal, then exhaled, breath stuttering. “I can’t sit there and just lie to him. I know I can’t.”

“You have to, Lena,” but her sister’s eyes darted around the attic, where Phoebe was staying in. She snapped her fingers in front of her face, making her recoil. “Listen to me, you have to. We know nothing, nothing happened.”

Helena and Phoebe had grown up knowing that something was real because they believed in it. That was what gave things power—magic, words, talismans. But what happened when two people believed two different things? How did the universe cope with that? Was James dead and buried in their backyard, under lilacs that were growing wildly out of season (girls in the neighbourhood had begun to whisper that if you kissed the boy you loved beneath the Goode’s lilacs he’d be yours forever, whether he wanted to be or not), or was he back in Laredo, or off somewhere else, left behind by his girlfriend?

Javier Peña was wondering the same as he stood in the odd kitchen of an odd house, there on Magnolia Street.

There were no clocks and no mirrors, in that house, and the floors creaked anywhere but where he stepped; light came pouring in from big, wide windows, showing an even bigger garden with lilacs out of season and more flowers and plants that he could recognise or count—rosemary and lavender, roses and daisies, carrots and an apple tree that reminded him strangely of home, but all seemed like a dream through the thick glass. Each piece of furniture inside seemed dusty, but when he ran his fingertip across the dark wooden surface of this table or that cabinet, no dust came away—no need for polishing anything in there. It smelled of cherrywood. It smelled familiar.

It was a familiarity Javier had not been ready to face—he touched the pocket of his jacket, felt the paper tucked in there crinkle at the touch, and a moment later, as if summoned by thought alone, Helena Goode came back down the stairs, slightly more dishevelled looking than before.

Helena had clearly been in the kitchen when he first knocked. He knew because he could almost see it, like a ghost moving around the stove, stirring a pot that had since been turned off, its content left forgotten on the back burden. He knew because she’d called Hold on at the third rattle of his knuckles across the door, matter-of-factly, as if she’d been expecting him. The mere sound of her voice had thrown him for a loop, the patio under his feet shifting unsteadily, and he could’ve followed the sound there with his eyes closed.

He thought then he could be in trouble—and when she’d opened the door, he’d known he would. Because he’d looked into crystal clear pools of grey and begun drowning, down and down without anything he could do about it. His father had once told him that witches caught you like that: with a look. If you ever meet a woman like that, you run the other way, no matter what, for your own good. There’s no cowardice in safety. But Javier had no intention of running—he’d rather drown, over and over, if it meant she looked at him like that a little longer.

She stood at the end of the stairs, perfectly still, with that ridiculous shirt with rhinestones across her chest and her dark hair down past her shoulder, brushing the sliver of uncovered skin at her waist. She was beautiful, Javier thought, so ridiculously beautiful he got a lump in his throat just looking at her. For a moment, before her Can I help you? at the door, he’d almost forgotten the reason he was there. He almost forgot it again when he saw her shake her head at the end of the stairs, and had to touch the letter tucked next to his heart again.

“Can I get you anything?” her voice sounded different as she strode into the kitchen. “My sister will be right down. Coffee?” she wasn’t looking at him, and Javier wished she’d just stop and turn to face him, if only to forget himself again in her eyes.

But Helena wouldn’t turn. She wouldn’t look at him. She woldn’t look at his face, and his neatly trimmed moustache, and his lovely dark eyes. She wouldn’t look at the lines on his face he was way too young to have, and the loneliness embedded in each of them she knew could be found in the silver strands of her hair, too. Helena figured he was not a man who hid things, just like he was not hiding the fact he was looking at her—she could feel his eyes burning on the back of her head, and she couldn’t believe the way he was staring at her. Looking at her like that.

It was how dark his eyes were, the problem. The way he could make someone—her—feel seen from the inside out.

“Coffee’s fine,” he said, forcing his gaze away. He looked outside, where in the distance, still filtered like a dream, he could see clouds gathering, a distant storm that seemed to have followed him there. Javier’s father had taught him to predict exactly when a storm would hit just by the location of lightning, so that he could prepare the ranch in time to brace for it.

He’d never been very good at it. He thought that lightning, like love, was never ruled by logic. Accidents happened, and they always would.

He looked at Helena again, her back still to him—she was watching the coffee brew, her arms crossed, fingers tapping nervously against her elbow. Javier looked at her and thought she was familiar to him—he’d thought that ever since getting her letter, the one tucked next to his heart, but to see her there in front of him, flesh and bones and long hair and clear eyes, really settled it for him.

He’d heard about it happening to other men—his friend Steve being one of them. Going about their business one minute and suddenly they found themselves without hope. They fell in love so hard they never got up off their knees again.

He’d never thought it would happen to him. Javier was all business—he always had been. It was his need to figure out the why of things, of people. Money, love, fury—those were the motivations he found usually, in his line of work. James Hawkins fell in the money category, of that he was sure, with perhaps a sprinkle of fury in the shape of his ring marked on the bodies.

Javier had been looking for that ring at Hawkins’ place—he’d seen it in pictures, read it in descriptions, remembered it from the few times his path had trailed along Hawkins’, because Laredo wasn’t that big of a place, and faces grew familiar over time—when the letter had arrived.

Crumpled and torn in one corner, the flap already opened, Javier had looked at it and thought he should’ve taken it directly to the office. But an open letter was hard to resist, even for someone like Javier, who had resisted a whole lot in his life. But that letter was something else, something tempting, and he gave into it.

He never regretted it.

He had just sat there, on the patio of the house of the man he was looking for, and read the letter Helena Goode had written to her sister. When he was done, he’d read it again. And again. And twice more midair, and then while he had his lunch, and once more when he’d settled in his hotel room. Even when the letter was folded back into its envelope and stored in the pocket of his jacket, the words came back to haunt him—whole sentences written by Helena forming in his mind.

Javier had been close to people, and while he didn’t have that many friends he was content—he’d even almost gotten married after high school, although that’s a topic no one ever brought up, not even himself. But he’d never once felt like he’d known anyone the way he felt he knew the woman who had written that letter. It felt like someone had ripped a piece of his soul out of him and formed into words. Words he was so taken by he wouldn’t have heard, seen, or felt a thing as long as he was reading them.

I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still, sometimes, when the wind is warm, or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen.

Javier wanted to tell her that he saw her. Right there in front of him, and even when she was not there, when he had not the faintest clue what she looked like, he saw her. He saw her standing, moving the coffee pot from the fire. He saw her pouring the coffee in three mismatched cups. He saw her hands shaking as she did so.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she recoiled as if startled by his voice.

“I think I’m going to sit down,” Helena said, casually, as if she didn’t seem about to collapse.

Still she brought two of the cups over, almost spilling the contents of one, and collapsed onto the chair opposite Javi with a shuddering sigh, her cheeks flushed, her chest fluttering. She wondered if drinking coffee would be a good idea at that moment, still feeling as if her heart might explode, but needed something to keep herself busy, so she brought the cup to her mouth and gulped down the scalding drink, burning the roof of her mouth and her lips.

“Why are you here?” she asked then, bitterness coating her tongue. She was used to sugar in her coffee, most times a dash of milk. “I mean, I understood what you told me—about Phoebe’s boyfriend—but why here?”

She saw the man hesitate—he did not strike her as someone who hesitated in anything, but he was pondering her words and how to best respond to her, his lips shifting to draw in a breath, and then exhale. He reached for his jacket—he still hadn’t taken that off, and with the movement it hugged his shoulders tight, seams pulling uncomfortably—and, from one of the inner pockets, took a piece of paper that he handed to her.

“I mailed that to my sister ages ago,” Helena recognised it immediately—that letter she was so grateful had never reached Phoebe, but also wished it had a little earlier, so she wouldn’t be in that mess. There’s a halo around the moon tonight. I think trouble is coming. I wish you’d get out of there. Come back home. Alone. “You opened it,” she added then, a little baffled.

He hadn’t just opened it. He’d read it. The paper consumed from being folded over and over again, each line marked deeper where it bent, words slightly smudged as if someone had run their fingers over each and every of it.

“It was opened already,” he retorted, justifying. “It must have gotten lost at the post office.”

“But you read it,” the cup was burning her palm, the letter her other hand, her face was burning too under his gaze.

“Maybe a thousand times,” Javier admitted, his voice dropping.

“It was a very personal letter,” she whispered too, feeling the tightness inside her throat and belly and chest grow, and grow, and grow until it was choking her. That had to be what a heart attack felt like. Perhaps she was about to end up on the floor unconscious.

“I know,” the man said, and at last she looked at him.

He saw her but, Javier knew, she saw him too. She could’ve seen how Javier wasn’t sure how far he’d go to cover for someone—he’d never been in that position before, and he despised the way it felt. But he was there, sitting in her kitchen, drinking her coffee, a total stranger on a humid day, wondering if he was going to look the other way because of her. She could see all that—or at least, she hoped.

And then Phoebe came down. Noisy steps down the stairs, announcing her presence to the entire world—she always had that about her, always managed to bring the attention to her, with her lovely strawberry-blonde hair and her long lashes and full lips. Even with the bruises, even with the wounds, even with her fear embedded so deeply into her skin it was painful, Phoebe was beautiful.

Still, Javier focused on Helena, and it wasn’t until her sister stood at her side that he caught a glimpse of her. Night and day, that’s what the aunts called them. He didn’t know, but he would’ve agreed—so starkly different, yet seemingly in tune with each other.

“As I’ve said your sister, I won’t take up much of your time,” Javier cleared his throat, offered his hand to Phoebe as he stood. He missed the feeling of his letter against his body, but Helena was clutching it tight, pressing it against her stomach. “It’s just a couple of questions, routine checks.”

“Of course—agent, is it?” Phoebe’s voice was soft where Helena’s was strong. She took up space just by standing, her arms folded in front of her as she held the third cup that had been on the counter.

“Yes, ma’am—Agent Peña.” Only then did she take his hand, a delicate shake before turning his palm up towards her face, peering down with an interested hum.

“You’ve come a long way just for a couple of routine questions, Agent Peña.” Her thumb ran along one of the lines on his palm, tracing it with a feather-like touch. Her brows knitted for a moment, confusion locking on her features (eyes darting towards her sister) before she shook herself. “I see here it’ll be worth the trip,” she mused, tapping his palm.

“Right.” Again he cleared his throat, and pulled his hand back. “When was the last time you saw James Hawkins?”

“Ah, a man of action,” Phoebe scoffed lightly, then shrugged. “Couple of weeks, just before I came here. It just wasn’t working anymore.”

“Is he responsible for that?” he asked, gesturing towards her face, the bruises.

“As I’ve said, it wasn’t working anymore,” she tipped her chin up, leaned with her hip against Helena’s chair. “I have no idea where he might be. If a man hits me, he only does it once,” Helena’s breath hitched, her grip on both the cup and letter tightening.

“What about the car? The one with the Texas plate—it’s registered in his name,” Javier thought he might as well reveal all his cards from the beginning. Neither sister was stupid, but still Phoebe was lying—he knew she was. He had seen that look before, countless times: people who are guilty of something think they can hide it by not looking at you. Or looking at you too much.

Helena wasn’t looking at him anymore—again. Phoebe was staring him down. But Helena wasn’t looking at him, because she knew, she was certain, that could not lie to the man. She feared her eyes would betray her too, like her heart was doing, like she imagined her words would if she were to say anything more.

“I took it when I ran,” Phoebe said, sighing. “And I know that’s wrong, so you may take it right away—I just needed a way out. That was the fastest.”

She was good, Javier managed to think in that haze-like feeling he’d found himself in since he’d walked into the house. Since he’d seen Helena. Her eyes.

“And you have not heard from him since?” Phoebe shook her head, sipping on her coffee and grimacing—too bitter, too strong. But it helped keep her mind away from the times she had heard from James—in her dreams, nightmares, really; or when she was distracted, and his voice crept into her head; or when she looked in the mirror and his reflection stared back.

“I have not,” she smacked her lips, the taste of the coffee lingering on the tip of her tongue.

“Alright, well,” Javier picked his cup and drank most of the coffee that remained—he liked it that way, black and strong, it reminded him of his father—then went to the sink to rinse the cup. Helena watched him while his back was turned, and almost smiled at the way he let the water slosh from side to side enough to get any residue off before settling it upside down. “If anything comes to mind, I’ll be around a couple of days longer—I’m staying at the Hide-A-Way Motel.”

“Really?” was the first thing Helena said in what felt like ages. Javier turned around—he was just stalling then. He wanted to remain there, with her. He wanted to keep on looking into Helena’s eyes and drown, drown, drown for days. He saw nothing else but her eyes.

“Lady at the car rental desk suggested it—it isn’t half bad,” he shrugged, and smoothed his jacket down. He felt the absence of the letter when he ran his hand across his chest, and the paper did not crinkle under his touch. Helena curled her fingers around her words. “Nice area.”

“It is,” she should know—her shop was one street away from the motel. She’d picked the area with Frankie because of how nice it was, close enough to the park it gave the impression of being around nature, but not so far from town that nobody would walk by the shop.

Phoebe watched the agent and her sister look at each other and frowned—for a moment, what she’d seen on Peña’s palm flashed before her eyes again. A new beginning, a line cut through by something, someone he could not escape. It had been written on his skin since the beginning. Some fates were just guaranteed.

“If I happen to remember anything else, I’ll come around,” Phoebe said, cutting through the crackle of energy that passed from one to the other. It was as if she’d woken them up from a dream, a dream made of only looks and silence. “You can have the car taken away.”

“Great,” he cleared his throat, and forced himself to back away. He knew that if he lingered any longer, he’d never want to leave. It was hard enough already. “Thanks.”

Helena felt like she was losing her mind.

The night before, a ring had appeared around the moon. A halo around the moon was always a sign of disruption—but it was a double ring, all tangled up, anything could happen. Helena didn’t like the thought, and she hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

The sparrow that used to fly each midsummer’s eve into the house on Magnolia Street had come back, out of season, round and round the dining room—her daughters had counted each circle: three. Three meant trouble, it always had. She’d chased it out with her sister, both of them on edge.

And it rained. All night and through the morning, one of her daughters standing by the window looking at the lilacs being hit by drop after drop, tapping her fingers nervously. Emma was looking at the man in their backyard, who stared back at them like from a vision, a nightmare rather than a dream. She was hoping he would go away, but the bad weather did not bother him—he seemed to relish in the black skies and the wild wind, and the rain passed through him. Emma thought—she knew—it was his fault that things were going amiss in the house, even though she didn’t know the extent of it: pipes rusting and the tile floor of the basement turning to dust, nothing in the refrigerator would stay fresh.

Both sets of sisters fought, loud and mean and just like he wanted them to. Emma would’ve liked them all to stop. Helena thought of chopping the lilacs all night long, but had to go to work.

And then there was Javier. Agent Peña, who walked around town and talked to everyone and was always there when she turned around from the counter. Javier, with a cigarette hanging from his lips at every street corner. Always there, always there, always there.

“Fuck!” Helena exclaimed, when the jar she was trying to place on the shelf fell and shattered on the ground, shards of glass flying around her ankles and the contents—curled dried leaves—spilling across the clean floor. “God, give me a break.”

“Are you okay, Lena?” a voice called from the other side of the shop. Helena didn’t have many friends—it came with the Goode name, being shunned away. But Crystal was one of the few who did not shy away, besides being a good employee. “Let me help you.”

“It’s alright, I just haven’t been sleeping well,” she went to gather the glass and leaves, both crunching as she moved the broom across them. “But could you put the kettle on? Maybe some tea will do me good,” even though she craved coffee desperately.

She’d craved coffee ever since she’d met with the agent. Black and bitter. She could smell it in the air around her, no matter which room she walked in, or which street—along with tobacco and more. She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life but now felt her fingers itch as if reaching for one.

Crystal obliged without question—she’d learned early on that many things around Helena Goode just did not make sense, and there was no point in prying. It had been that way since they were children. Her mother liked the Goode aunts, said that it was not their fault for more than two hundred years their family had been blamed for everything that went wrong in town.

Some people are just different. Most people are just stupid to be afraid of it.

She remembered their classmates being terrified of the day a bunch of cats followed Helena to school—witchery, they called it. A witch and her familiars. Nasty, nasty creatures, the whole lot of them. But Crystal remembered Helena being kind and poised, she remembered her balanced lunches, and the way she always looked out for her sister. She still did. Why people would think Helena and Phoebe had any evil in them escaped her.

Goode women ignored convention; they were headstrong and willful, and meant to be that way.

“Thank you, Crystal,” Helena said from the kitchenette, throwing away the spoiled merchandise..

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home? I can look after the shop,” but even as she asked, Helena was shaking her head, lips trembling with her deep inhale. “Lena, did something happen?”

“It’s not—” a bell. The shop’s bell. Helena looked up from her mug, the smell of lavender easing her headache a little, and then turned. “I’ll get it.”

He was everywhere, always there, always there, in her shop, too. Helena stood frozen next to the counter and looked at the agent who was looking around—a feeble attempt at not immediately turning towards her, not falling into her eyes right away.

“Yes?” she managed to ask, her throat dry once again. Just by his mere presence.

“I’m afraid I forgot to bring enough toothpaste,” Javier lied. He’d thrown an almost full tube in the bin just that morning—still wasn’t sure why. Maybe because so many people had told him about Helena’s shop, just around the corner. How the woman was the way she was, but her products were amazing.

“You could’ve gone to the market,” she said, but placed her mug down and moved to the shelf anyway. Once she wasn’t looking at him, she managed to exhale again, but still his eyes burned on the back of her head, and she suddenly felt conscious of the fact she probably had forgotten to brush her hair in the morning.

“Yes,” he retorted, and didn’t add anything else. He knew he could’ve, but he didn’t want to. And he could’ve told her it was because so many people had recommended her stuff, or because the shop was closer to his motel. But he didn’t.

“Any allergies?” she asked, moving the stool closer to the shelf.

“No, ma’am.” She paused, one foot up the step as she bit her tongue—just a moment, then she climbed and grabbed a jar, the label scribbled so hurriedly it was unreadable, the dark paste inside a stark contrast with the white paper.

“Charcoal—whitens the teeth,” she moved back down, the counter between them as she handed the product to him—her eyes flickered towards the cigarette that he’d tucked over his ear, shaking her head lightly. “Nasty habit,” she muttered, lowering her gaze.

“I’m aware,” Javier chuckled—as he took the jar, he grazed her fingers. Helena pulled back as if she’d been burned, fingertips curling into her palm and pressing harshly. “Does this stuff actually work?” he cleared his throat, turning it in his palm to glance at the label again.

He knew her handwriting. He could read it like the back of his hand. I have this dream of being whole.

“It does,” Crystal called as she walked in from the kitchenette, and Helena leaned over the counter and reached for her mug—anything to keep her hands busy. “See for yourself. On the house.”

“He can’t accept it on the house, Crystal,” she said, moving back. “There’s an investigation ongoing—isn’t that right?” it looked as if she might turn to him while she addressed him, but didn’t. Again.

“That’s right,” Javier cleared his throat, shuffling a little. He was so close to the counter he could feel the edge of it dig into his stomach, and forced himself to look at the other woman. “But are you giving me your word? That it works.”

He was a charmer. Helena knew already—Crystal was just finding out. She wanted to ask what investigation Helena was talking about, what was happening at the house on Magnolia Street that she desperately did not want to go back, and what was happening with the agent so desperately trying to meet her eyes.

“Cross my heart,” she said instead, because she knew this would be another inexplicable moment. She’d made her peace with it. “Swear to God, this woman is a magician. Let me ring you up.”

Helena hid her face with the mug, the dwindling steam turning her cheeks a soft shade of red. At the same time, Javier scoffed lightly.

“Right,” he muttered, reaching for his wallet. “Heard that one before. Thanks.”

It took a moment for Helena to register his words—she was trying so hard to not hear him, to not focus on him, that she didn’t understand what he was saying until he was out of the door, an echo of the bell ringing in her mind.

“Wait, what?” she placed the mug down, looking up at his back behind the glass. “Hold on.”

She shouldn’t have gone after him. She should’ve known better. Helena spent her whole life being vigilant, she spent her whole life relying on logic and common sense, she’d taken care of everything from the moment her parents had died, and then again when Frankie had died—she thought about everything.

She had to, because otherwise how would her kids have made it to fourteen and fifteen?

She had to, because if she stopped thinking about everything, what exactly was she left with? Her thoughts and worries are the only reason she continued to exist, of that she was certain.

Never look back, never change direction, that’s what she had to tell herself. Don’t think about being alone in the dark, or storms or lightning and thunder, or the true love you won’t ever have. Life, she knew, was brushing her teeth and making breakfast for her kids and not letting her mind wander.

But that was a lie—from the beginning Helena had been lying to herself, telling herself she could handle anything: her parents dying, her sister relying on her, her aunts’ reputation, Frankie, Frankie’s death, the spell, the year where everything went grey, her children, and now this. She’d grown tired—she didn’t want to lie anymore. One more lie and she’d be lost. One more lie and she’d never find her way back through the woods.

And it’s all because of him.

“What did you mean?” she stopped abruptly when he did, taking a step back when he turned to look at her. She tugged her cardigan close, the wind whipping the ends around along with her hair, and tipped her chin up with her arms crossed, finally, finally looking back at him. “Heard that one before?” she echoed. “Is that why you were at my shop?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s because I needed toothpaste, and I’m just around the corner,” she scoffed lightly, shuffling her feet. “But actually, yes, I heard a bunch of stuff that doesn’t make sense at all, so I’d like to understand.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my job,” he retorted. “Because, seriously, I have heard it all. A family of witches, a curse, your own husband—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, and for a moment Javier recoiled, saw the truth in the words of all the people who had warned him off Helena Goode. With her hair dancing in the wind, and her cheeks still red, and her eyes oh-so-clear, like a storm incoming, he understood. “Do not bring Frankie into this.”

“Hard not to, when it’s everything this town talks about,” he took a step forward, her whole body seizing up. “Do you have any idea how strange this all sounds to me? People tell me you’re here cooking up placenta bars, that you’re into devil worship.”

“You think I don’t know that?” her voice was lower, and pulled him closer. “All my life, this town—I know what they say about me, I know what everybody thinks.” She wanted to move away—she wanted to lean in. She remained still. “All my life I wanted nothing more than to be seen as normal, but that’s just not the way it is. I don’t have a ranch house or a white picket fence, I don’t have a husband that’s alive anymore, I don’t have—” she cut herself off, unsure as to why she was so ready to pour her heart out to a stranger in the middle of the street. “I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“I never said it was,” Javier spoke softly, a gentleness that felt foreign on his tongue but rolled off easily when he looked at her.

“Then why are you here?” her chin was still up, but she was looking down at her nose, careful to avoid his gaze—it made him believe that she, too, felt that tug in the pit of her stomach. She was just better at controlling it.

Your letter, he almost said. You.

“James Hawkins,” he replied instead. “A guy like that doesn’t simply vanish.”

“And would that be such a big loss?” she scoffed, tightening her arms around herself. “A guy like that—wouldn’t it be so much better if he did just vanish?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, and felt his hands move before he could control himself. “But I made a vow, and I have a job—” his fingertips grazed her arm, and at that she pulled back.

“As do I,” one hand moved to the point he’d brushed, holding the spot as if it hurt, tight against her chest. “So unless you have something you want to ask me, Agent Peña, I’d rather get back to it.”

“Are you or your sister hiding James Hawkins?”

“He’s not here, no.”

“Did you or your sister kill James Hawkins?” he asked, and her eyebrows arched.

“Oh, yeah. Couple of times,” Javier sighed, and forced himself back, his hand now itching for his cigarette. “Is that all?” he put it between his lips, ignoring the frown forming on her brow.

“Yeah, sure,” he didn’t light it up just yet, but reached for the lighter nevertheless—he missed the letter in his pocket whenever he touched it. “Bye, Helena.”

He watched her go back inside the shop with her shoulders pulled back tight, steps unsteady, and only when the door was closed, the echo of the bell ringing in his ears, did he light up the cigarette.

She watched him go away from inside the shop, with his steps matching the thundering of her heart.

“What is wrong with you?” Phoebe watched her sister kneel on the ground, pruning shears in hand and purple flowers all around her, on her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m tired of seeing these every time I look out of the window,” her breath was short—the flowers seemed endless, she cut and cut and cut and still they were there. “And the smell—I hate it. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Lena—Lena! It’s just flowers!” although Phoebe knew it was not entirely true. Mostly, she ignored the lilacs, and everything that was underneath it. Especially what was underneath it. “Stop it, before you hurt yourself.”

“Oh, now you’re thinking about that?” Helena dropped the shears and stood, the soil on her jeans already a stain she wouldn’t manage to remove. “Now that there’s a cop after us? Now you think I might hurt myself?”

“So what? We stick to our story. No body, no crime,” she gestured towards the lilacs. “There is not a single reason why he should think we’ve done something, unless you give him one.”

“But we did, Phoebe. You understand that, don’t you?” she hissed, walking up to her sister. “We fucked up, and somehow I’m still the one who’s cleaning up your messes,” Phoebe’s eyes widened, mouth set in a thin line. “I’m sick of this.”

“I never asked you to, I never—”

“Enough lies, Pheebs. Aren’t you tired?” Helena smelled like the lilacs, and her headache was back, stronger and stronger as the storm approached from the horizon. “I know I am. I’m so tired of lying.”

“What are you talking about?” Phoebe had lowered her voice, and was looking at her sister as if she could not recognise her. “Lena—you can’t do that,” even as she said it, Helena walked past her, brushing her hands down the front of her jeans. “You can’t go to him,” she said, following her. “We’ll both be sitting in jail if you do. What about the girls? Why are you even thinking about it now?”

Helena wasn’t sure why. She knew she’d woken up smelling cigarettes and coffee again, and the lilacs, and the nightmare still clinging to her eyelids, making her feel unrested as she had for the past days. Weeks. She wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew is that her throat hurt from all the lies she’d told Javier, and she wanted to come clean, to tell all—she wanted someone to listen to what she had to say and really hear her, the way no one ever had before. So she’d gone to work, and back home to cut the flowers, and as sundown approached she would go out for Javier.

“Don’t tell me about the girls now, when I spent half my life thinking only about them,” she said loudly, marching in and out of room after room of the house, grabbing things she wasn’t even sure she needed. “And you? You only ever thought about yourself. You left me here. You lived your life. And you dragged me back in just to save your ass.”

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” Phoebe screamed too, from the middle of the house, following the noises of her sister as she stomped around. “I lived my life and you hate me for it!”

“I don’t hate you, Phoebe.”

“No, no, sure—you’re unbelievable. You spent all your life trying to be normal and fit in, but you never will! You know we’re different, and so are your girls,” Helena stopped abruptly to look at her.

“That’s twice now—you leave them out of this,” she said with a scowl so similar to that of their mother’s, if only either of them could remember her.

“All my life I’ve wished I had half your talent—you’re wasting yourself, Lena,” Phoebe cried, and for a moment she sounded just like the little girl who had just gotten to the aunts’ house. “And now you—what? You’re gonna turn yourself in? Or get down on your knees and beg for mercy?”

“If I’ll have to, yes,” Helena said without a second thought, fixing her sister with a look. “I’m done.”

They both measured themselves harshly, always had, as if they had never been anything but those two plain little girls, waiting at the airport for someone to claim them.

If you go against what you believe in, you’re nothing. That was another thing his father liked to say—and Javier knew he was right. So he was going to stick to his plan: fly back home and give up the case to the poor bastard who was supposed to get it from the beginning, had it not been for the letter. He was going to go back to work as usual, forget about the whole ordeal, forget about grey eyes and dark hair and his own heart.

Heart, heart, heart beating to the sound of the knocking on his door, that for a moment he’d thought to be rain pattering on the ground and the roof, such the strength of the storm was. But he heard it, and when he opened the door, Helena was there, shivering and looking up at him.

“You want a confession?”

In his line of work, Javier had been trained to notice things, but he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Part of the reason was that he’d been imagining Helena everywhere he went. So maybe it was just an illusion, a desire of his heart turned into a vision.

“What?” he stepped aside and, water falling from her hair, Helena walked in, trailing mud behind.

“You want a confession, don’t you? It’s why you’re still here,” she was shaking, arms crossed over her chest with wet clothes clinging to her. “We killed James. Technically, I killed James. I used belladonna.”

“I know,” Helena frowned, moved the hair out of her face with trembling hands.

“You know?” she sniffled, part from the cold part from the smell attacking her nostrils—coffee and tobacco and, surprisingly, food.

“I found some in the car—saw the same thing in your shop and had it analyzed,” he closed the door, careful to not turn the lock, leaving her a way out as he moved back towards the kitchenette. “His ring was in there, too. There was blood on it. Have you had any dinner?”

“I—what is this, some sort of joke?” she asked, slightly out of breath, and stepped in his direction. Javier scoffed, his back to her as he shook his head a little.

“Far from it,” he muttered, turning the stove off. Still, he didn’t move to look at her—if he did, he wouldn’t be able to say what he had to. He could feel her shiver, just a few steps from him, and it took everything in him to not reach over and grab her and hold her close. “But I have no idea what to do from here. I can’t say that I’m sorry Hawkins is gone, and I can’t—”

“Javier—” he exhaled—it was the first time she said his name, and he gripped the counter with both hands as he closed his eyes. Through the rain, and the soil, and the smoke in his room, he could smell lilacs and that same scent that had clung to the letter, which had bled onto his fingers each time he reread it.

“I was gonna turn over the case,” she held her breath at his words—he heard the light hiccup as her lips sealed, and slowly turned, though his gaze remained lowered. “I can’t say I’m impartial anymore—I can pretend, but I’m not. I no longer can tell what’s right and what’s wrong and you—you came here, and what did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know,” her voice was small, and Javier knew she was looking at him—the roles had switched, he could feel her gaze burning across his skin. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. I’m tired—of lying, of hiding, of those fucking flowers,” she sniffled, and from the corner of his eyes he could see her rubbing her arms. “The thing is, I’m pretty sure it’s because of you, and I can’t stand it—because I know I’ll get hurt, and my sister will get hurt, and my children, too.”

“Then why,” his voice had dropped slightly, and he took one more step forward, looking up at last—they were standing so close now, heat radiating off of him and clinging to her chilling bones, “are you here, Helena?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her hands seeking him before she could even realise. “Maybe this,” her letter was almost destroyed, wet and crumpled as she held it between them.

Fear or loneliness—she wasn’t sure she could distinguish them anymore. When the deathwatch beetle had started ticking for Frankie, then she’d been afraid. When she’d stopped speaking and seeing colours for a year, and her children had been by themselves, then she’d been afraid. When she was young, and she sneaked down the stairs with her sister to see what the aunts where up to, then she’d been afraid. In that moment, she was terrified.

And lonely. She’d never felt more alone or lonely before in her life. She wished she could’ve believed in love’s salvation, but truth was desire had been ruined for her. She wished she’d never spied on the aunts’ and seen their customers crying and begging and making fools of themselves. She’d become love-resistant because of that and, with her sister, sitting on the roof of the house, they’d wished to look up at the stars and not be afraid of it.

But, just like trouble, love came in unannounced and took over before she’d had a chance to reconsider or even think about it—Frankie first, and now—

Amas Veritas—she thought about it again, looking into Javier’s dark eyes. He will hear my call a mile away—she’d been just a child, so stupid, thinking that love was a toy, something easy and sweet, to play with. But real love, she’d learned, she was learning, was dangerous, it got you from inside and held on tight, and if you didn’t let go fast enough you might be willing to do anything for its sake.

She’d learned that with Frankie, and now—

“Oh, don’t,” she whispered when Javier’s hand brushed along her arms, foregoing the letter—and moved closer to him, pulled by gravity, by forces she couldn’t begin to control. “Javi—”

He believed he was going to cry—because she was saying his name again, soft and gentle and like she’d known it all her life, and his hands were tracing a path up her arms like he knew exactly the shape of her, and trying to learn it by memory all over again.

He wasn’t even sure that was not the case. Perhaps a part of him knew her already, always had.

He had stumbled into love, of that he was certain, and was stuck there. Javier was used to not getting what he wanted, he’d learned to deal with it, but with Helena in front of him he couldn’t help but wonder if that had only been because he’d never wanted anything too badly. He did now.

“I just do this,” he said, voice sad and deep and causing the hair at the nape of her neck to stand on edge as he leaned closer, towards the hand she was offering to him like in prayer, and she brushed his cheek as he sighed. “Pay no attention,” he said, but she did. How could she not?

He was there, and she shifted toward him as if to brush her hand along his face, but instead ended up with her arms looped around his neck, his own wrapped around her, holding her closer.

And Helena was terrified, because suddenly she wanted whatever he was promising her, with his lips so close and words so soft she told herself don’t listen, but she couldn’t, because whispers of I’ve been looking for you forever inched their way underneath her skin, warmed by his hands. She wanted to get lost—she, who couldn’t function without directions, needed it. Him.

Everything she did those days was so unlike her usual self that when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window behind Javier’s shoulder, she couldn’t recognise herself. Looking back at her was a woman who could’ve fallen in love if she’d let herself, a woman who didn’t stop, not even when Javier moved her hair from her neck, the wet locks sending a shiver down her spine that only intensified as the man bowed his head a pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat.

What good would it do her to get involved with someone like him? She wondered—because the last time she did, she loved so much she got hurt to the point a part of her had forever vanished. Or so she had thought, because with Javier’s lips brushing her skin, the light tickle from his moustache making her eyelids droop, she could’ve believed something had come back alive behind her ribs. She suddenly felt like she had to press a hand down against her chest to make sure her heart wouldn’t escape her body.

“Helena—” he whispered, his arms tight around her—the droplets of rain clung to his lips, the taste of her flooding his senses, overpowering everything else. She sighed again, a shudder running down her spine, unsure if it was from his voice or the cold settling in her bones.

Although, if she were to be honest with herself, she’d say she wasn’t cold. She was burning, really, Javier’s body so close she could memorise it by touch alone.

“Maybe I’m letting you do this so you’ll stop the investigation, even with my confession,” she said, his head straightening—his nose brushed along her jaw, her cheek, and her eyes remained closed. “Have you thought about that? Maybe I’m so desperate I’d fuck anyone, including you.”

There was a sour taste in her mouth with each cruel word, but she didn’t care—she forced herself to open her eyes, she knew she needed to see the wounded look on his face with each bitter word. She needed to stop it—whatever it was—before she no longer had the option to. Before the freedom she had longed for forever slipped through her fingers, and she was trapped again in pain, just like the women who used to come at the aunts’ back door.

“Helena,” Javier said again, mournful, and she could almost taste her own name falling from his lips. The tobacco, too. Her mouth parted on instinct, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw down towards her chin, brushing her bottom lip. “You’re not like that.”

“Really?” she scoffed lightly, the noise remaining trapped in her throat when she lifted her gaze to his eyes. “You don’t know me. You just think you do.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, and the tip of his nose brushed hers—one tilt of his chin, one tip of her head, and the agony would be over for both of them. But for the moment they were just suspended in time. “I think I do. I do.”

“Let go,” she told Javier, and it sounded almost like a plea. “Let go of me.”

He did. He would’ve done anything she asked of him. Let go, hold tighter, kneel, jump into a fire. All of it. So he let go of her, even if it hurt, both of them taking one step back—her arms immediately wrapped around her middle (an attempt to trap his warmth close to her skin), his hands tingling with the loss of her.

“Helena—” he said once more, her name more and more familiar on his tongue.

“You have your confession, and you have your proof,” each word felt like shreds of glass in her throat, while she looked away forcefully—in the window, her reflection was almost familiar again, still a little wild, but recognisable. “It’s up to you. You know where to find me, once you make a decision.”

“I do,” he repeated, somewhat stunned, his mind reeling. She took one step to the side, heading for the door. “It’s still pouring outside.”

“I know,” she only said, and went nevertheless.

For hours her perfume remained in the room, clinging to him for so long he didn’t even notice the smell of his burned dinner. So long the letter had dried on the floor where it had slipped, enough for him to reread it, again and again until he’d managed to fall asleep.

Helena couldn’t stop thinking about Javier. From the moment she’d walked out of the motel room, he had been all she could think about—on the drive home through the storm, in the warm bath to wash the cold away, doing the dishes, in bed, unable to sleep, dreaming about him while wide awake and in the few hours she’d managed to close her eyes, too. Haunted, just like her sister.

She dreamed of the desert, an apple tree in a yard that wasn’t hers and bloomed without water, and horses that ate apples from that tree and ran faster than all the others, and a man who was taking a bite from a pie she’d made, bound to be hers for life. She’d woken up smelling apple pie and cinnamon, coffee and tobacco.

So it was no surprise when Javier showed up that same morning. She almost heard him coming. Yet she couldn’t face him right away, so she hid inside, behind her sister, still skittish, behind her daughters, still confused, behind the pretence of making breakfast.

“He’s staying!” Sophia, the eldest of her daughters, announced, running from the garden to somewhere past the living room—Helena sighed, eyes closing. “Aunt Pheebs! He says he’s staying!”

Helena wondered if, without the feeling of Javier’s hands still on her, she would’ve wondered why Phoebe would care whether or not the man investigating them was staying at their place for breakfast. She wasn’t even sure whether she was glad he was staying or just nauseated.

“Can I help?” Emma, much quieter than her sister, stepped at her mother’s side and pointed at the stove, a half-burned pancake smoking on the pan. Helena threw the failed attempt away and nodded, forcing a smile onto her face—she knew the man was in the room with them, she could feel him watching the two of them from the entrance, could see him in her mind as he leaned against the doorway.

“Be careful,” she murmured, taking one step aside, then another, and more, her own steps echoed by Javier’s. They met halfway across the kitchen, her still not looking at him while his eyes never once left her.

“’Morning,” he hummed, shoulders brushing—Helena moved aside, ignoring the sharp pain in her hip when she bumped into the table.

“Good morning,” she cleared her throat, brushing her hands down the front of her shirt—and then lowered her voice. “Why are you here?”

“You told me I knew where to find you once I’d made my decision,” he replied, matching her tone.

“And have you?” her hands began going numb as she clenched them in fists at her sides. She could still feel Javier looking at her.

“I’m going back to Laredo,” her gaze snapped in his direction, so fast the whole room spun as she inhaled sharply, holding her breath. “I thought you should have this. After all, it belongs to you.”

It took her a moment to manage to focus on the paper he was handing her—her letter, now ruined, a half-destroyed piece of paper she’d poured her heart over, more than once. When she picked it up, their fingers brushed just like the first time, and Helena almost cried out in pain.

“Now, something smells like it’s burning,” she could see the strain in his neck as he turned away from her, looking at Emma. One more moment and then he walked ahead. “Need a hand?”

“I was trying to flip it,” Emma mumbled, a pout forming on her lips that made her look more like her mother. Javier chuckled, settling at her side. “Do you know how?” she asked suddenly, a hopeful note in her voice Helena hadn’t heard in a while. Her chest constricted, watching the man smirk and roll up his sleeves.

“I absolutely know how to,” he nodded with a theatrical gesture. “Step aside and observe.”

Amas Veritas, dancing in Helena’s head as she watched Javier, fitting so well in her kitchen, flip pancakes in the air and making the young girl laugh. It had been a while since Emma had laughed like that, and for a moment she was her soft-voiced and shy 14-year-old again, who liked to look at the stars and sleep with her head on Helena’s lap.

But then her shoulders tensed, her whole position shifting, taking one step away from Javier to turn towards her mother, even though her eyes went past her. Helena knew, without having to turn right away, that something was terribly wrong.

“Mom,” Sophia came running in, breathless, and immediately clung to her arm, tugging harshly. “Something’s wrong, mom,” the panic in her voice settled in Helena’s bones, mixing with her own, and she was quick to push her daughter behind her back, stepping away from the door. “It’s aunt Pheebs, she—”

“It’s not her,” Emma’s voice was grave, so unfitting for a young woman, and she inched closer to her mother, too. Which left Javier at the stove, looking at the three of them with confusion and alarm. “It’s him, it’s the man of the lilacs.”

“What?” perplexed, Javier took a step forward, only to be stopped by Helena’s extended arm, while she pushed all three of them behind her just as Phoebe walked into the kitchen. Accompanied. “What the hell—” Javier exhaled, reaching for his belt.

“Agent Peña!” James exclaimed, translucent as he came into the light. Javier’s head started spinning as he stared at him, then at Phoebe Goode, her arm trapped in his vice grip made of fingers of smoke, then back at him. “Long time no see. How’s Laredo? I think I’m starting to feel homesick.”

As James spoke, Helena had started stepping backwards, her gaze never leaving Phoebe—the two sisters were looking at each other, guilt and fear and resolution in their gazes that no one but the younger girls could notice, the familiarity an ache on the palms of their hands as they held each others’, keeping close, keeping behind their mother.

“Helena,” Javier called, his gaze unwavering as he took hold of his gun. “You said he was dead.”

“Yes,” she nodded, and for a split second, Phoebe’s eyes showed surprise.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he retorted, and James scoffed.

“You’ve all spent weeks pretending I’m not here—well, almost all,” he tilted his head, gaze settling onto Emma, and smiled. Helena pushed her daughter into her back, the girl hiding her face against her shoulder, clinging tighter onto her sister’s hand—Sophia held her chin high, squeezing back. “It’s gotten boring.”

“Then leave,” in Phoebe’s voice there was all the rage of the Goode women before her. But then James turned, his grip tighter on her arm, and Helena watched her sister’s legs tremble. “Just leave us alone,” she pleaded, eyes widening.

“No,” James chuckled, pulling her closer—Javier could see the strain in the woman’s shoulder, her face contorting in pain, and could not wrap his head around it. James Hawkins did not look real, or at least not real enough to hurt them. Still, he felt uneasy, even more so when he spoke again, his head lowered next to Phoebe’s. “I’m feeling very into sisters right now,” his gaze flickered towards Helena, too, a grin taking over his pale face.

Javier wasn’t looking at her, but he felt Helena straighten her back, look at him, and then turn. He heard her whisper to her daughters, possibly holding them closer, to run into their aunts’ room and be mindful of the salt. He heard two sets of steps backtrack, and watched James’ face shift into disappointment.

“Oh, Lena, Lena, Lena—you really do take the fun out of anything, don’t you?” he took one step forward, dragging Phoebe with him—the woman cried weakly, trying and failing to escape his hold.

“Hey,” only now that the kids weren’t in the room did Javier lift his gun—although he was sure it would do nothing to stop the man, and his widened grin only confirmed it. “Let go of her.”

“And you,” James groaned, even as Javier placed himself between him and Helena, “you never, ever learned when to just give up,” the two men looked at each other—Javier’s gun lifting, James’ hand reaching out for him. “You should let the adults—”

Before the sentence was over, James screamed, letting go of Phoebe. Helena ignored Javier’s surprised gasp in favour of her sister tumbling to the side, quick to reach her before she could even touch the floor.

The same floor where a star shimmered, catching the sunlight. Javier carried it with him everywhere he went, in remembrance of his father, the star-shaped badge he’d lived by for ages before retiring. Javier did not believe in luck, good or bad that it was, but he did believe in reminders: of doing the right thing, always. Of never losing sight of who he was.

He picked it up right as James straightened, a hole in his near-invisible hand that echoed its shape. Without thinking, without considering, Javier held it up right as the other man—or whatever was left of him—screamed in his direction, unintelligible words that probably would’ve resounded like threats, had Javier been able to hear a single one.

Instead, he stared as the figure vanished, with one longer scream and a curse, the air darkening in front of his eyes and then dissipated into nothing, leaving him to look at the corridor that brought to the stairs, a ringing in his ears.

“It’s okay, Pheebs,” Helena’s voice slowly brought him back, words repeated soothingly as she still held her sister. “It’s okay, it’s alright,” reassuring, in spite of her trembling voice. “I need you to call the aunts, Phoebe. I need you to tell them what happened. Can you do that?”

“I’m sorry,” Phoebe was still saying, her eyes unfocused though she looked up to Helena.

“I know, I know—but can you?” Javier could almost see it—nights spent with Helena reassuring her sister, hidden under thick blankets or on the rooftop of the house beneath a sky full of stars. “Please, I need to go to the girls.”

“Oh, the girls,” Phoebe exhaled, and released the grip on her arm. “Of course. Of course. I’m sorry.”

Helena didn’t wait, though she lingered enough to rest a kiss to Phoebe’s temple, before standing and walking out of the kitchen. It took Javier a moment to come to his senses, and then he went straight after her.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, his mind still reeling, forgetting for a moment the effect he had on her. “Was that him? Did I kill him?”

“Yes, and no—technically,” Helena didn’t stop, heading for the stairs she used to sit on when she was a kid to spy on the aunts. “It was his spirit, which you banished. But I told you, I killed him. And you can do whatever with this information after, but right now—”

“Hold on just a goddamn second, all right?” Javier grabbed her arm, pulling her right back against him. A split second in which they looked each other in the eyes, and all that had happened the night before came back, all that had been left unsaid before hit them square in the chest, and in that split second, they could’ve almost forgotten all else. “What are you talking about? His spirit? I came here to bring in the bad guy—generally, that’s what I do, and now you’re telling me about spirits?”

“Is that why you came here, Javier?” she stood her ground, her arm still in his hold. “Be honest.”

“Honesty,” he scoffed. “I thought I did—and then you were here, and your letter—maybe that’s what brought me here. Maybe it was you. And I’m all mixed-up about that.”

Helena was looking at him with that storm still brewing in her eyes, and Javier felt his knees threaten to give out underneath him. His hand fell from her upper arm, down her elbow and wrist, brushing the palm of her hand. She took a slow breath in, lips trembling.

“The reason you’re here and you don’t know why is because I sent for you,” she said, quietly.

“I know why—”

“You don’t,” she interrupted him. “When I was a little girl, I worked a spell so I would never fall in love. I asked for qualities in a man that I knew couldn’t possibly exist,” she shook her head, while his fingers wrapped around her limp hand. “But you do.”

“So,” he scoffed, “you’re saying that what I’m feeling is just one of your spells?”

“Yes, it’s not real,” it sounded like it pained her to say, even though Javier knew she was telling the truth. Or at least thought she was. “And if you stay, I wouldn’t know if it was because of the spell, and you wouldn’t know if it was because I don’t want to go to prison.”

“All relationships have problems,” he muttered, and she gave a small, unamused laugh.

“I thought I loved Frankie, but that was another spell too,” for a split second, she held his hand back, squeezing her fingers around his to the point it hurt. “Still, you don’t want to know what happens if you stay. We’re all cursed. You saw that,” and just like that, she let go of him.

“Curses only have power when you believe in them, Helena, and I don’t,” clenching his fists, Javier stepped back from her. “You know what? I wished for you too.”

Helena knew. He’d told her the night before, his lips etching each word onto her skin.

But she watched him go nevertheless, glad he managed to take the steps she couldn’t.

Helena was tired. She had been tired since lying on the floor next to her sister, watching as she was being consumed from inside. But all of that was over. She’d stared at the letter from Laredo for days after that, keeping it stored with the other one written in her own hand that carried the mark of both her touch and his.

She did her best to not think of him. It was near impossible.

James Hawkins’ cause of death was accidental, read the letter. His body was identified by jewellery in the ashes of a body found in Laredo, right by his property. The same ring he’d told her was in his car, the car she’d driven, the car she’d spilt belladonna in.

Sincerely, Javier Peña, special investigator.

“I don’t think you’ll find him there, Lena,” Phoebe said softly, when she caught her reading the letter once more. “But somewhere else, perhaps.”

For days, she let the words linger. Days turned into weeks turned into months, his absence like an emptiness into her chest. She’d almost convinced herself it would pass. That, with time, that too would pass—just another pain, just another absence. She could deal with it. She could.

And then Javier was there, in her backyard, or at least that was what she thought she was seeing, because it couldn’t be. How could he be there, when he was in her dreams just that night?

“What would you do, Pheebs?” she whispered, her heart beating so loud she wouldn’t be surprised if everybody else could hear.

“What wouldn’t I do, for the right man?” Phoebe whispered in return, gently pushing her forward with a wide smile. “This is not the aunts’, this is the two of you.”

All the while, Javier looked at them, standing perfectly still like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do, one of his hands half-raised as if in greeting but without waving, the other buried deep within his pocket. He looked at them, and watched Phoebe quickly lead the girls away even when they tried to run to him, and then Helena walk in his direction.

“A love that even time will lie down and be still for,” he said as a way of greeting, once they were standing one in front of the other. “Ever since I went back, time hasn’t felt real, because you weren’t there. And maybe you still believe it’s for a spell you did as a child, or your aunts’ fault—”

“How do you know about the aunts?” it was hard not to smile when he fidgeted like that.

“Your sister told me,” he returned, softly. “Your sister called.”

“And you’re here,” she said, a half-step forward in his direction.

“I’m here,” he nodded, moving the hand out of his pocket and reaching for her tentatively. “I’m here because I know this is real. No gimmick, just—”

“Love?” she suggested, and the glint in her eyes reminded him of the moon itself.

“Love,” he repeated, their fingers interlocking. “Helena, I mean all of it. I’ll even quit smokin’ if—”

She kissed him, plain and simple. Pulled his hands so that he was stumbling forward and caught his lips with hers, gentle, slow. She kissed him, and as Javier held her, he felt like he’d finally gone home. She kissed him, and felt that empty space in her chest filling with the taste of coffee and tobacco.

Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart?

There were some things, after all, that Helena Goode knew for certain:

Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.

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tonberry-yoda · 6 months

Note

HIHIHI! I saw your fall event and was rlly excited >:3

is it okay if i choose "isn't this stuff for kids?" with sanji i hope yoire having a great day/ night!

Isn't This Stuff for Kids - Sanji 🎃

notes - OMG HI! <3 I'm so glad you were excited to see this event, I have had so much fun doing it so far!!! Thanks for the request and what a cute idea!!! I hope you have a lovely fall! Sending so many hugs <3 word count - 219

"Sanji! I'm home!" you opened the door holding dozens of bags.

Sanji peeked over and saw you enter and his eyes lit up before he ran to you. He took a couple of bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek. "Hello, my love!" he said. "How was your time?"

"It was so much fun!" you said, setting your bags on the floor in your living room. Sanji set down the bags that he took too.

"What did you get?"

You dumped out all the bags and tons of little Halloween goodies fell out: candy, bags with Halloween designs on them, pencils, etc.

Sanji tilted his head at it and slightly giggled. "Isn't this stuff for kids?" he asked.

"No!" you said, almost offended. "Well... I mean yeah, but... I'm making goodie bags for the kids who are gonna come trick or treating."

"I wasn't judging you!" Sanji reassured. "I just haven't seen this kind of stuff in years."

"Do you want to help me make them?" you asked with bright eyes.

"I would love to, y/n. Let me make us some cocoa first." He kissed your cheek and ran off to the kitchen.

You didn't care if this was for kids, it made you happy and you were definitely going to make yourself a bag.

~~~~~

one piece masterlist(2)| pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda– do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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gyllenhaalstories · 6 months

Text

COME ON BARBIE, LET'S GO PARTY! — JAKE 💗

summary: you are invited to a barbie themed party and you both dressed the part. don't you worry, jake brought all his kenergy!

warnings: alcohol, curse words, smut (teasing in public, praise kink, butt plug, masturbation, spit play, penetration & double penetration, pussy eating, improper usage of an innocent lollipop). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

photos credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories & @/margoterobbies (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i'm too many months late to the barbie hype but i couldn't help it. another year, another halloween themed fic! 🍭 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Looking good, Barbie!" Jake winked, opening the door of the bubblegum-pink Corvette for you.

"Thanks, Ken!" You got out of the car, with Jake closing the passenger door behind you. You took one more glance at the vintage car and blinked forcefully. "All the pink... It's blinding."

"Come on, do you know how much trouble I went through to find that car? Jake leaned on the silver frame of the windshield. "Surprisingly, not much trouble at all. For some reason, it seemed like everyone went on a spray painting frenzy since the movie came out."

"Yeah, I bet." You rolled your eyes at him and you leaned forward to fix check on your pink gloss in the reflection of the side-view mirror. You popped your lips audibly when you finished. When you stood up straight again, Jake smiled at you from ear to ear.

He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arm around your waist, careful not to wrinkle your pink and white plaid dress similar to one of the costumes in the movie. He guided you through the parking lot, in direction of the large hotel where the party was taking place.

You frowned, looking at both of your outfits. Jake looked like bubblegum and you looked almost as pink as him — he won that game with the help of the afternoon sun that gave him warm, rosy cheeks. "Do you think we went too hard?" The two of you had watched the movie an absurd amount of times to prepare for this party, and you wondered for a moment if you had gotten too far.

Jake scoffed and shook his head. "What makes you think that? There's never too much pink." He tightened his arm around your waist and squeezed you against his hip. "Right? Never too much."

You caught a glimpse of his wink and understood the intention behind his words. "Yeah, right." You chuckled, earning another tight squeeze against him.

"You good? Everything's alright?" His voice took a serious tone. He looked into your eyes to make sure of your sincerity.

"Everything's peachy!" You leaned closer to give him an air kiss, adamant on not ruining your makeup so soon into the party.

"Don't you mean beachy?" His eyebrows wiggled on his forehead, Jake was proud of his reference. "I'm doing too much, got it." He nodded one time, firmly.

You placed your hand on his cheek and stroked his skin lovingly. "You are Kenough."

He smiled at you again. "Now, come on, Barbie!" He held the heavy glass door open for you, bowing before you as you walked inside the hotel. "Let's go party!"

*~*~*

The Barbie themed Halloween party was... So cool. Pink everywhere, pink everything. You guys had definitely dressed the part. You could safely admit, with all the modesty and humility in the world, that you looked better than most of the guests. It was mostly due to the amount of fun that the two of you were having.

Jake and you did a whole lot of singing (while poorly remembering the lyrics) and dancing (while poorly remembering the choreography). All you needed was a a couple of martini glasses filled with the potentially spiked pink fruit punch paired with a swirly straw and you were having the time of your life at this party.

Over and over again, the songs from the soundtrack would make the walls vibrate. You felt bad for the guests upstairs, but you figured that most of the occupants of the rooms were already attending the party anyway. You hung out with some familiar people and also strangers you would undoubtedly forget about tomorrow when you wake up. Hours went by in a blink of an eye.

The longer the party lasted, the harder it was to get Jake off of you. He was getting all sorts of touchy-feely and he made you feel like the most beautiful doll in the world. He pulled you close to him, held your hand tightly, kissed whatever part of exposed skin he could reach, squeezed (and slapped) your ass when he thought people were not paying too much attention. He kept telling you how pretty you were and how he was the luckiest Ken in the room.

You finally gave in to his tactics, there was only so much affection and praise you could handle without getting butterflies in your stomach and experiencing that shaky feeling in your knees. "One more."

"One more what?" Jake whined, he kissed your cheek then down to your neck. He hummed at the sweet smell of the vanilla perfume you got just for the occasion.

"One more song and then we're leaving." You raised your pinky finger, your nail was shiny and painted bubblegum pink.

He hooked his pinky finger with yours, sealing the promise. "One more. After that, I'm dragging you out of here."

"I don't wanna leave Barbieland! But... Fine." You kissed his lips lightly and you let the music travel through your body and guide you back to the middle of the room. All Barbies to the dancefloor of the blowout party.

For what could very possibly be the thousandth time that night, Dance the Night started to play and it only took the first verse for Jake to join you on the dancefloor again. Other people tagged along and drunkenly tried to recreate a scene out of the choreography. It was just... So cool!

*~*~*

You unwrapped a lollipop and put in your mouth while Jake unlocked the door of the hotel suite. As soon as his hands were free, and while he pushed the door open by walking backwards, they were back on your body.

In fact, Jake’s hands barely left you at all from when you exited the party venue to that very moment. There was so much touching, caressing and groping, he was failing miserably at hiding how much he wanted you. Now with your mouth occupied by the candy, Jake focused his kisses on your neck rather than your lips.

You threw your head back, giving him all the space he desired to leave open mouthed kisses over your neck and the exposed part of your chest.

He roughly groped your ass, squeezing your skin and massaging it. He repeated this routine over and over again. All of that caused you to flinch, a small moan escaped your mouth once you pulled the candy out of your mouth. “You really like it, huh?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Jake smiled at you and gave you a quick wink before he kissed your lips. They tasted of strawberry, and so did your mouth that he explored with his tongue. His hands were still on your ass, he was pressing his body firmly against yours to bring you impossibly closer. “You gotta wear it more often.”

“That can be arranged.” You winked back at him.

"Good girl." He told you as he pushed you in the direction of the massive bed.

You blinked and your back hit the duvet. You blinked again and Jake was pulling on your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

He leaned down to kiss you before you had time to put the lollipop back in your mouth. Once you were distracted, he stole the candy from you and claimed it as his. The stick poked out of his mouth while you pouted at him. "What?"

"It's my lollipop, I want it back!" You barely had time to finish your sentence before he kissed you again.

"Oh, you want it back?" For a moment, you believed he would bite the candy and eat it all on his own. Instead, he flipped your skirt up over your stomach and slid your panties off before you could say anything.

You watched him as he trailed kisses from your right knee, along your thigh and all the way up to your lower stomach. If he had not been in such a hurry to touch you, he would have given the same treatment to your other leg. Even in the dimly lit hotel room, you could see the gears turning in his head and he did not seem interested in wasting any more time.

He pushed on your inner thighs, forcing your legs open for him and exposing your pussy to his lustful gaze. He swiped his thumb over your wet pussy lips and hummed in satisfaction to how you coated his skin. Jake dragged his thumb down and instructed you to open your legs as wide as you could. A pink sparkle caught his eyes, he moaned along with you as he pushed on the jewel plug that was in your ass. "So fucking pretty."

You sighed loudly while Jake gently tugged on the plug. You closed your eyes for several seconds and focused on how your body reacted to the movement. Jake's groping had felt nice, but this was even better.

"Still thinking about the candy?" Jake slurred his words with the lollipop stuck inside his cheek. You giggled and shook your head no as an answer. "That sucks, because I sure as hell am."

You squinted in confusion. Quickly, your thoughts started to process what he had in mind.

He popped the candy out of his mouth and locked eyes with you. You both giggled when he went down on his knees with a loud groan. But you stopped laughing when you saw that the lollipop was approaching dangerously close to your pussy. He had one mischievous eyebrow arched on his forehead when the candy touched you. He dragged in across your folds the same way he had done it with his thumb earlier. The lollipop glistened with your juices already.

You had raised your upper body on your elbows, and you threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed the candy inside of you.

He did it slowly, just enough to get the sphere of sugar inside of your clenching walls. Just like he did with the plug, he pulled and pushed on it to fuck you with the lollipop. Jake's tongue lapped at your folds, taking multiple breaks to tell you that you tasted "So fuckin' sweet for him." He sucked on your clit and pulled more euphoric sounds out of you.

You encouraged him to keep going by the way your body moved against his mouth, and his hand. He used his free hand to toy with the butt plug and mess up with your mind with the blissful sensation of both of your holes were being fucked at the same time.

It seemed as though he did not know what to do, what to focus on. The sight and the taste of you were driving him insane. He abandoned the plug and the lollipop stick, leaving them both untouched inside of you so that he could unbutton his shorts and pull his clothes down to free his hard cock. Jake jerked off with his dominant hand and used his other one to keep moving the candy inside you. It was already creating a sticky, wet mess on the bed and he could not care less.

With the way his tongue worked on your clit, your orgasm took no time to arrive. And you struggled a lot. You struggled to keep your legs open, you could barely fight the urge to close them around his head (he had no complaints about that). You struggled to hold back your sweet noises and the loud screaming of his name (he had no complaints about that either, but the neighbours in the hotel suite next to yours might beg to differ). More importantly, you struggled to hold back and not let the pleasure snap.

Jake was not helping you either. He was grunting and moaning against your pussy, devouring you like you were the best thing he had ever tasted. His body moved, too, from how good his hand felt around his throbbing cock. He took a break from eating you out to spit on his hand, lubricating it so that it moved more easily on his length.

That break was just long enough to let you catch your breath and prepare for what was coming next.

Jake was pumping the lollipop in and out of you. You could feel your other hole clench around the plug. And you arched your back as your orgasm hit you. The pleasure was sweet, but strong. It had you covering your face as you chuckled, the waves of ecstasy still rushing through your body. All of that because of a stupid lollipop (and your boyfriend's exquisite pussy eating skills).

Oh, Jake was not done with you. Once you calmed down and once the walls of your pussy relaxed, he pulled out the candy. It was dripping, it looked delicious. Without any hesitation, he put it back in his mouth and he rolled his eyes at how much he was enjoying the taste. And, again without hesitation, he stood up by the edge of the bed and positioned himself so that he could use your sensitive pussy to jerk off.

His cock rubbed on your puffy pussy lips and bumped on your clit, making you pant and struggle to keep your eyes open so you could watch him as he was reaching closer to his own release. "You're so hot." You mumbled when his eyes locked with yours.

"You're fucking hot." He smiled at you. The stick of the lollipop moved as his face contorted with pleasure. It took a few more thrusts of his hips, a few more seconds to enjoy your wet pussy, and he started to cum. He wrapped his hand around his cock and used his other hand to push your leg further open so he could paint your pussy with his cum.

Ropes of white completed the mess that was your core and his grunts sounded so delicious that you moaned along with him.

Jake’s cock was throbbing, bopping up and down in the air as he emptied all of his seed on you. His stomach rose and fell back down while he, too, tried to catch his breath. He pulled the candy out of his mouth and he chuckled with you at how intense all of this was.

You frowned when you noticed that he was smirking. A cartoonish light bulb appeared above his head. “Uh oh.” You clicked your tongue, faking to be concerned. “Do I really want know what you’re thinking about?”

Jake wiggled his eyebrows and shrugged at you. His eyes looked into yours, then down at your pussy, then back up at to your face again. “You already know I’m gonna do it anyway.” And with that, he surrendered to his impulsive thought and dipped the lollipop in the mess of yours and his juices. He swirled it a bit and brought it up, slowly, to your mouth.

With your eyes locked with his intense gaze, you parted your lips open. He gave you a taste of the mess the two of you had made and he was more than happy to see you smile as you sucked on the candy.

Jake helped you scoot further on the bed so that he, too, could have space to climb on it with you. You tapped the space next to yours, but he ignored your invitation.

Instead, he found a comfortable position and laid down between your legs with his mouth just inches away from your pussy. He stuck out his tongue, flat, and licked a long strand, from the jewel plug all the way to your clit on which he pressed a kiss. “I’m gonna clean you up now,” he announced, as if you could not have guessed it on your own. “But after that we’re gonna take a shower,” he added another long lick on your pussy. “And after that we’re gonna keep this party going.” He swallowed what he collected with his tongue. “How do you feel about going for a ride?”

You relaxed on the plush bed and savoured the feeling of Jake’s mouth on you. You nodded frantically, answering his question, and you felt his lips curl into a grin against your core.

You both exchanged another wave of laughter that was interrupted by Jake playing with your plug again. “Do you think they make those in the shape of a lollipop?”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal

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