#i see the word horrors and stand on a table pointing KID!!! KID!!!

[guardianscry]

@robyn-goodfellowe thought of Kid the second I saw this. Was also listening to the Barbie movie ost during it. 10/10.

[ackermonie]

“listen. i’m telling you again. we’re NOT telling her i got you that lego set for winning that fight, am i clear?”

megumi nods with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “i don’t think she’s gonna be as mad as you think she will be. this isnt the first time this happens, you know?”

“regardless, the lego set remains unmentioned,” satoru points at megumi with a serious index finger, to which megumi rolls his eyes again as he resumes setting the dining table. “the tone of her voice on the phone said she’s coming for blood. i don’t wanna be on her bad side.”

“oh? so you set me up instead?!” megumi lets go of the plates to cross his arms over his chest. “is the strongest really such a scaredy-cat, now?”

“i’m not scared!” satoru is offended, even though he’s about to piss his pants. “and I wasn’t the one that decided that beating up 8 fucking kids on one go was the brightest idea ever, was i?”

“but you rewarded me for it!”

“he did what?”

the two of them freeze in their place, eyes widening as they hold each other’s gazes, too scared to look at the source of the voice coming from the kitchen entrance.

they stay quiet for a solid amount of seconds, and you remain unmoving. gojo gestures for megumi to look at you first, to which megumi replies with a subtle shake of his head, a thin sheet of sweat breaking on his forehead.

“i asked a question.”

thunder is rumbling, and when gojo decides to, very slowly, shift his gaze to you, it’s a scene right out of a horror movie when lightening strikes and thunder rolls on cue. you’re standing at the entrance, drenched from head to toe, a cut or two fresh on your face. your uniform remains unscathed, save for the water dripping to make a little damp pool beneath your feet.

“you’re home early, sweets,” gojo tries to approach, but you pin him in place with a glare. his nervous grin gradually falls from his face. “how was the mission?”

he hears footsteps approaching quickly, and when tsumiki comes to a halt behind you, seeing the state you’re in, she begins to slowly retreat despite satoru’s look of despair at her.

“you rewarded him.” you echo megumi’s words. the 14 year old swallows hard, eyes sliding from you to the suddenly more interesting kitchen sink. “he almost gets expelled, and you reward him.”

“but he didn’t get expelled!” satoru chuckles cheerfully. “he apologized, and all! didn’t you, megumi?” he nudges the teenager’s shoulder pushing him a bit forwards so he can take some of the impact himself. he lowers himself a bit to mumble to him through his teeth. “who’s the scaredy -cat now, huh?”

“I-i—“

“i leave the house for a couple of days— not even a couple, this was a day and a half, and i have to wrap my mission up quickly because my son’s being turned into a delinquent with his dad’s support?”

it takes satoru a couple of seconds to register the words that just came out fo his partner's mouth. he immediately looks at the flustered teenager by his side, to find a light blush on his cheeks and neck.

something warm settles behind gojo's ribcage. it was never addressed, that they're practically family. the only d word megumi calls gojo is dick, but fuck, by the look on megumi's face, the way his skin is painted pink, he knows that the seemingly stoic kid feels the same.

satoru doesn't even think you realize the way you addressed them.

tsumiki peeks her head from behind you. there's a sweet smile growing on her sweet face that he catches. he tries not to smile, he really does, but something in his demeanor is shattering right before his eyes.

"satoru!" you raise your voice, a frustrated frown painting your features, but all satoru feels is the love spreading through his body, his fingertips buzzing with it and all. "this is not rewardable behavior!"

"don't be mad at him..." megumi mumbled, finally taking a step forward. your gaze shifts to him, but he's looking anywhere but you. "he only wanted to cheer me up. this is my fault."

your eyes can't help but soften. gojo watches the change of expression in awe.

"if it helps, they were bullies." satoru chimes in a much softer voice, matching the look on your face. he ruffles the boy's hair, who doesn't push his hand away for the first time in a while. "it's just that megumi here has his own way of doing good. peculiar," gojo pauses with a little laugh when the teenager finally pushes his hand away grumpily. "but he's still doing good."

you finally spot the scar on his cheekbone, one that's already been tended to by satoru it seems, but you still walk across and hold his cheeks in your hands to check it out. its really not that deep, but something still tugs at your heart.

and satoru is still watching the changes of your expression, taking note of every little one. he knows you all too well, you see, and he knows that you're about to start tearing up any second now.

"why don't you guys go fetch angry mom here a towel or two?" he addresses the children, grabbing your wrist to let go of megumi, who looks too guilty for his own good right now. he brings you closer to him instead. "I'm afraid she'll only be grumpier if she catches a cold."

megumi hesitates, but tsumiki calls for him, understanding the cue better than her younger brother.

once they were both out of sight, gojo chuckles in endearment when you shove your face in his chest, uncontrollable tears escaping past your heavy lids. he grabs your head with one hand while the other holds you to him, soaked and all.

"oh baby," he sighs. he doesn't think he's ever been happier than this moment right here. "you just called him my son."

you punch him right in the gut. he groans out in pain, but his hold never wavers on you. "he is your son."

"i think we both prefer the name long-term pain in the ass, but that will do." he raises your head to look at him, and when he sees that red nose and tears down your cheeks, he can't help but giggle some more. "god, you're literally the best thing to ever happen to me."

"shut up." your cheeks burn in his hands, and you're unable to look away. "I was so scared something had happened to him. i would've never forgiven myself."

"the fuck do you take me for?" satoru fakes offense, raising an eyebrow down at you. you roll your eyes at him, from which he takes even more offense, letting you go with a scoff of disbelief. he dramatically removes his sunglasses and crosses his fingers in front of him. "I'll hollow purple your ass so hard right now and you'll never live to tell the tale."

"sure, honey," you pat him on the chest with one hand and wipe away your tears with the other, beginning to turn away from him with a, now more subtle, eye-roll. "whatever you say."

he grabs you and pulls you flush to him again, this time capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that has your whole body letting loose right there in his arms. your arms wrap around his neck like a reflex, and he squeezes you into him, a dull ache beating in him to just merge your bodies into one,, to have you in his very bones, and maybe even then it wouldn't be quite enough.

"i would rather be torn in two than let something happen to any of you," he breaks away from the kiss to peck your nose. you look into his eyes, and it worries you just how true his statement is. "what else do I have to fight for?"

=====================================

more?

[moonmunson]

electric touch - eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.

warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child

When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update. 

There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters. 

He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting. 

Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that. 

For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.  

He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again. 

Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud. 

Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth. 

Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.” 

The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to. 

You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake. 

“Oh-”

“Sorry, I-”

There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.

It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller. 

As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner. 

“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”

“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”

Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short. 

“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”

“Stuck with you?”  

“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?” 

“Absolutely,” you nod. 

“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.” 

“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.

“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”

“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”

“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”

“Eddie.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet. 

“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.” 

Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him. 

“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.

“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours. 

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you. 

You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer. 

“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”

“I get to see the King’s quarters?”

“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”

“Lead the way then, dungeon master.” 

He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched. 

“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs. 

“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”  

“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark. 

“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.  

“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”

“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.” 

“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.” 

“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable. 

“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”

“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.” 

Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath - 

“Yeah?” 

“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.” 

“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet. 

“Yeah, Eddie. Really.” 

His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times. 

That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts. 

“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey. 

“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”

You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours. 

“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!

[sturnioz]

imagine frat!boy chris loosing reader at a party baisically going crazy not being able to find her then he finds her passed out drunk somewhere then princess carrying or over the shoulder carrying ( you choose ) her to his bedroom then taking care of her AHHH

sorry i fw frat!boy chris fluff heavy

you are only supposed to grab a drink — so what the fuck is it taking so long? chris' eyebrows knit together in frustration as he pushes himself off of the sofa, adjusting the cap on his head as he shoves through the crowd of sweaty bodies, peering over their heads to try and catch a glimpse of you.

the pulsating music of the frat house thumps in his chest, but it's drowned out by the growing annoyance in his mind as he chews on his cheek, a tell-tale sign of his growing irritation, ignoring anyone who dares reach out for him — whether they want to talk or buy drugs, he doesn't give a fuck.

his mind is solely focussed on finding you.

chris pushes his way into the kitchen, full of drunken bodies, some lost in conversation while others are high, eyes glazed and minds somewhere else. it's a familiar scene — one he's seen countless times — but tonight, the sight of tangled limbs and slurred words only heightens his frustrations.

he scans the room, searching for you, but his gaze meets a sea of other faces, causing the knot in his stomach to tighten, and his fists to clench and unclench at his sides, knuckles cracking.

he does spot matt in the corner of the kitchen though, absorbed in his phone with a joint dangling lazily from his lips. chris moves forward through the crowd, ignoring a girl who reaches out to him with a flirtatious giggle, her attempts to grab his attention fading into the background.

as he approaches matt, he cuts straight to the point, direct as he asks. "you seen the kid anywhere?"

matt looks up, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he answers, "like, five minutes ago, yeah."

chris almost rolls his eyes. "right, 'kay, so," chris gives him a look, his impatience bleeding through. "where is she now?"

"nate 'n his girl dragged her to play beer pong or some shit."

chris rolls his tongue across his teeth and nods his head slowly, turning sharply to head towards the familiar spot where the beer pong table usually stands. the crowd shifts around him as he moves, but when chris approaches, his brows furrow deeper when he finally spots nate with his girl — your friend — huddled together, alone.

nate's eyes light up when he sees chris, a drunken grin stretching across his face. he loosens his grip on your friends waist, letting her sway slightly as he steps froward to greet chris with a handshake.

chris' grip is firm but distracted, his gaze immediately flicking to the beer pong table, where empty cups lay askew, remnants of a game that has clearly gone off the rails.

"where is she?" chris asks, tone sharp and urgent.

nate shrugs nonchalantly, laughter bubbling in his throat. "i dunno, probably throwin' up or somethin' — she lost baaad, bro," nate thumps his chest with a fist. "undefeated beer pong champion."

chris feels his irritation spike, nearly pushing him over the edge. "you uh, you let her get fucked up?"

nate seems to sense chris' attitude and sobers up just a bit. "hey, easy... its a game, yeah? she's safe in here."

ignoring nate's reassurance, chris' gaze locks onto your friend, snapping. "why didn't you go with her?"

"she's a grown adult," your friend drawls drunkenly with a roll of her eyes. "let her live."

chris' lips curl into a humourless smile, a bitter laugh escaping him as he turns to nate, pointing to your friend. "y'know, she uh, she was fuckin' tom before gettin' with you.. and y'know tom has that thing, so.."

nate's expression shifts from confusion to horror, his eyes widening as his head snaps towards your friend, who screeches back angrily, spitting drunken curses at chris who walks away without a word.

he heads towards the crowded staircase, moving through through the bodies in the slightly vacant hallways, stepping over discarded cups and spilled drinks that litter the floor as he approaches the main bathroom at the end of the hall.

his fist curls tightly around the handle, and without bothering to check if it's free, chris pushes the door open. the hinges creak slightly, and his gaze immediately lands on your passed-out body sprawled next to the toilet.

a deep exhale escapes him, his jaw clenched tight as he steps further into the cramped space. the familiar stench of stale beer hits him hard, mixing with the faint smell of vomit, and his nose wrinkles in disgust, shaking his head as he crouches down beside you. his heart races a little with a mix of irritation and slight concern, and he reaches out, tapping your cheeks gently.

"hey, kid," he says, his tone sharp but low, echoing in the tiled room. when you remain unresponsive, he taps again, a little harder this time. "wake up, dumbass."

with no reaction, chris leans in closer, his hair brushing against your face, the strands falling like a curtain as he listens to the laboured rhythm of your breathing. his expression subtly shifts, a flicker of worry breaking through his irritation.

"great," he mutters under his breath, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

with a huff, he awkwardly slips his arms around your body, feeling the dead weight of you against him. he adjusts his grip carefully, his muscles straining as he lifts you up, your head lolling against his shoulder.

he carries you out of the bathroom and into his own room, kicking the door open with his foot and closing it behind him with the same motion. he eases you down onto his unmade bed, letting out a frustrated sigh, his tongue prodding at his cheek.

he kneels beside you and begins to untie the laces of your shoes, tossing them carelessly to the ground with a dull thump. he glances at your face, the discomfort evident even in your unconscious state, and his expression softens slightly as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling the material down your legs gently.

his hands reach for your shirt next, but he pauses when you make a soft, gargled noise, and his eyes flit back up to your face.

"s'me, kid," chris murmurs, low and steady. "calm down."

you seem to respond to his voice, the noises fading as he pulls the shirt off your body. he throws your clothes into the hamper beside his bathroom door, then grabs one of his own shirt — a soft, oversized shirt that he dresses you with a little difficulty due to you not cooperating.

"know y'can hear me," chris grumbles under his breath. "makin' me dress you like a fuckin' baby.. could be helpin' me, make this shit a lot easier f'you. but naaaah.. gotta do alllll the work."

[stevie-petey]

not sure if this has been sent before but rewatching season 3 and the scene where the group are together visiting ms driscol and el and max are reading comics, maybe a blurb about bug introducing them to comics in the summer before it all went wrong again? like her and steve are hanging out and they burst in declaring they are having a girls day/sleepover and wanted comics to read

i LOVE doing some max/el content with big <33

enjoy !

"you dont have to be here, you know."

"i know, but the one day im free from robin, youre stuck at work." steve shrugs, hopping up onto the counter so he can sit. he plucks a discarded pen and tosses it between his hands. "had to enjoy my day somehow, right?"

you stack a book onto the shelf and roll your eyes at him. "because everyone agrees that a dying bookstore is loads of fun to be in for hours on end."

"hey, i thought we agreed not to use the 'd' word?" steve clicks the pen a few times, eyes following you as you tidy around the store.

"my bad," clearing your throat, you look pointedly at him. "what i meant to say is that Bookstrordinary is as lively as a graveyard now due to stupid Starcourt."

"you know that i only have a job because of the mall, right?"

"youre terrible at comforting me."

its steves turn to roll his eyes, only his is done with fondness rather than annoyance. your hair is tied up to keep out of your eyes and youre wearing a denim dress to combat the junes unexpected heat. steve had grown so used to your usual wardrobe of sweaters and flannels that the sight of you showing so much skin leaves him breathless still.

deciding that you look too good today (youre always beautiful to him), steve gets down from the counter and follows after you. his body aches to be close to yours, his hands itch to trace the exposed skin. but he cant. you arent his, steve still hasnt managed to say the three words that sit inside his chest.

"im sorry, angel. how must i comfort you?" he asks, taking a few books from you instinctively. steve could work an entire shift at bookstrordinary at this point with his eyes closed.

you turn to him, eyes shining. "well, if youre really feeling sympathetic, id happily accept your fathers money for some ice cream-"

"you get free ice cream from me every day."

"with your employee discount. but richard harringtons money? i need it, steve."

"okay, im feeling really used right now-"

the store bell rings and a storm of red hair and giggles interrupt your conversation with steve. the laughter is familiar, the sound a welcomed surprise. immediately you leave steve behind as you rush to the front to greet the girls.

"max! el!" before they can argue, you pull them in for a hug. their skin is damp from sweat, but you dont care. you hardly see the girls these days, theyre always off with the boys or together on their own. while youre happy theyre finally friends, you cant help but miss them.

"hi, y/n." el greets you enthusiastically. her hair is a mess, shes wearing one of hoppers old shirts.

max stands next to her, hair a wild mess of red strands from the humidity. "we got bored," she tells you, eyes already roaming around the store. "you got anything good in here?"

"it depends on what you guys are looking for." you inform her. youve come to learn what everyone in the party enjoys reading. for el, she loves fairy tales, mike and dustin enjoy science fiction, lucas and max prefer more thriller and horror, while will loves fantasy.

steve grabs a handful of books for the girls, hes also come to learn what genre the kids read, and places them on the table. "heres my selection of fine reading."

"and by 'fine reading', he means books i already set aside for you guys." you nudge steve playfully, which the girls giggle at.

"same thing."

el carefully looks through the books, her finger pokes through the titles. while shes still learning how to read, shes slowly able to piece together the names and authors before her. she carefully reads through every title, eyes searching for something. when she doesnt find what shes looking for, she frows. "where is the man insect?"

"man insect?" steve looks at you, confused.

"the one with the webs."

neither max nor steve understand what el is asking, but you realize with excitement what shes referring to. "oh!" ducking down, you grab your personal stash of comics from the counters shelf and place them in front of the girls. "spider-man! here he is."

"that is the one!" el says happily, grabbing the first comic she can reach. "he is an insect."

"yes he is," you nod proudly at her. "ive taught you well."

max flicks through one of the comics with slight interest, shes curious, you can see it. "youve read spider-man with el?"

"yup, we used to read them all the time at the cabin. figured it was easy enough to understand while learning how to read. plus, spidey is the best."

"spider-man is very cool." el agrees.

steve practically melts when he hears this. eyes softening, he leans against you. "thats sickeningly adorable."

"ew, dude." max glares at him, disgusted. "we're right here, you know. go be pathetic somewhere else."

"i... i was here first." steve mumbles, slightly intimidated by the girl.

you laugh at him and place a gentle hand on his arm. "why dont you go write up some shipments for me while i introduce max to the man im going to marry someday?"

"you know peter parker isnt real, right?"

"i know, and it haunts me every day."

max shoves steve away from you, taking his place. "we're having a girls day, get lost."

"what-?"

"sorry, honey." you kiss steves cheek quickly before allowing max and el to tug you away. halfway across the store you shout behind you, "i'll make it up to you later!"

steve is left alone the rest of the day, basically taking over your shift for you. luckily with so few customers coming in these days, it isnt so bad. he mostly spends the day admiring you as you read spider-man to el and max. your eyes are lit up with raw adoration for the storylines and the girls lean into your every word. theyre wrapped around your finger, wound so tightly that theyve become one. while steve resents that peter parker has ruined your day together, he cant help but warm at the idea that the comics have brought the girls to you and have given you a rare, sunny day together.

hes willing to share you with the party if it means the soft, genuine smile that you get only when youre with them never leaves your face.

[hwasdvlly]

Boo! | j.wooyoung

ꨄ summary: not all ghosts are terrible after meeting a friendly one.

ꨄ pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader

ꨄ genres: romance and fluff

ꨄ word count: 1.1k words

ꨄ warnings/tags: two curse words, mean friends, and hurt/comfort. love at first sight, ghoul!wooyoung, mortal!reader, oreo-haired wooyoung, haunted hause

ꨄ a/n: this is a very cute one like wooyo is just so caring that imma cry

You don’t mind Halloween because it’s one of your favorite holidays, and it’s fun. However, you can’t do ghosts, demons, and haunted houses. You get so easily spooked that you’ll cry like a baby. A secret about yourself, and it’s embarrassing. You never want to admit to your friends because they’ll either make bad jokes about you or think you’re a wimp. 

Well, let’s see how it goes on October 31. 

For your costume, you are Alice from the famous novel and film Alice In Wonderland. When looking at yourself through the body mirror, you can’t help but admire how cute you look. The pretty blue and white dress is flowy, the thigh stocks are comfy, and the pointed shoes are elegant. You also handmade a black bow headband. After fluffing your loose curls, you started to head out with your friends. 

Throughout the night, it was any other trick-or-treating. Kids in costumes are running around in the neighborhoods and going door to door for candy.

“Hey, anyone dares to go to that house.” One of your friends, Sujin, points at the abandoned-looking place. With instant denial, you shook your head. “Let’s not. I heard it’s haunted.” You said. 

Suddenly, you began to feel nervous. 

“Don’t tell us you are scared, Y/N.” Another friend, Jaewoo, scoffs at you. 

“Of course not!” You tried to oppose his statement, but internally, you are frightened. Two of your friends, Dohwan and Minseok, gave you sly smirks. Dohwan says, “Rock, paper, scissors, and the loser goes to that house alone.” He beckons his hand out. 

At once, including you, joined in a circle. You are not going to have yourself look like a baby. 

But unfortunately, the game is meant to be your fate. For some odd reason, your friends picked paper, and you picked rock. 

Shortly enough, the five approached the dingy house, and they could see how long it had been abandoned—from the dead trees to the decayed outward. “Go on, Y/N. We’ll wait here.” Sujin promised you. “Be careful.” Minseok said. But for some reason it doesn’t genuine. After taking deep breaths, you timidly walk to the front door. When standing on the porch, you grab the doorknob. To your surprise, the door is unlocked. You open the door, and it creeks open like a cliche moment in a horror movie. 

As you step inside, you are greeted by a dimmed living room. There are a lot of dust particles on the furniture and spider webs littered on the walls. You take out your phone from your small purse to turn on the flashlight. You mustered the courage to explore further into the house. You can also notice a fireplace in the same room with a skull, telescope, and an hourglass on the mantle. You went to the kitchen and recognized an empty box from a popular chicken restaurant on the dining table. You have to admit, without the creepy aura, it is a beautiful home. 

But out of nowhere, the front door slams shut. You become alert and quickly run to the living room. You dropped your candy bag, purse, and phone on the ground to try opening the door. To your horror, it won’t budge.

“Guys! This isn’t funny! Please let me out!”

You shouted at the top of your lungs. On the other side, your friends are purposely trapping you. They snickered at your weak attempt to escape. After begging them and banging on the door with your fists, you just gave up. You picked up your phone and tried to dial 119, but there was no service. You are stuck in a supposedly haunted house. 

You leaned against the door and slid down to the floor. Tears are building up in your eyes as your lips let out sobs. You hugged your legs and buried your face into your knees. 

Unknowingly, a ghoul hovers over your crouched form. Its legs extend to have its feet on the surface and goes in the same position as you. 

“Hey, why are you crying?”

A sweet-sounding voice questions out loud. You hear it and notice your gaze meets a handsome man with black and blonde hair in a low ponytail. His plump lips tug a loving smile. The ghoul gently wipes your tears away by using his thumb. 

With a whimper, you managed to speak. “Who are you? Are you here to help me?”

You get an answer from the mysterious man. “My name is Wooyoung, and I can help you if you tell me why you are crying.” He doesn’t care about you being stuck in this house. He only cares about your upset behavior. You told Wooyoung of the whole situation, which was most likely a set-up by your friends. Or at least you knew they were your friends.

“They sound like assholes to me.” The ghoul frowns at the cruel intent of scaring a pretty girl. 

You nodded your head that you couldn’t agree more. 

Wooyoung sighs and stands straight. He then offers you a hand. You looked at it quizzically but still accepted it. Wooyoung helps you on your feet again. “You don’t need them. Me and the others would like to be close with you.” He is convinced that you deserve better. No friend should tease about another friend’s fears. You titled your head like a confused puppy after saying, ‘the others.’ 

He reads your expression and immediately understands you like an open book. “Oh, my bad! My friends and I live here. Now let me dazzle this place into something more light, Y/N.” Wooyoung highly believes his friends are impatient and mad that he is late to the party. They shouldn’t blame him because a gorgeous girl is holding his hand. Most importantly, she is not afraid anymore. 

“Wait. How do you know my name?” You asked the ghoul.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I just know.” He told you so casually that it kind of made you at ease.

Wooyoung instructs you to close your eyes and let him do the magic. In a split second, your ears picked up the sound of male voices—more like scolding Wooyoung.

“What took you so damn long?”

“The food is getting cold!”

“Calm down! I brought us a guest!”

You open your eyes to discover seven hot and cute-looking guys. You also realize the house is no longer dark and ominous. It’s cozy, fun, and welcoming. 

Wooyoung introduced you to his friends who are ghouls like him. They have such great personalities that you wouldn’t know they are mystical creatures of the night. They all acted like ordinary people and were very kind to you. 

“Y/N, are you hungry? I got chicken.” Yeosang asks and shows his plate. Oh, so no wonder there was an empty box. You put a big smile on your face. “Sure, and thanks!” You appreciate the very adorable ghost. 

After forgetting about the living, you never thought hanging out with the dead would be this enjoyable.

However, only one ghoul has eyes for you. The time when you first entered the house, Wooyoung’s unbeaten heart was bursting with happiness. 

[fun-k-board]

Got a cool idea for you my friend.

The insomniac spider-men, both Peter and miles. And how they’d go when y/n offers to do a horror movie night with the likes of classics like Halloween or modern stuff like talk to me

The Insomniac Spider-Men with a horror movie night

Note(s) : I did Headcanons for how the Spider-Men are with horror movies and then a scenario at the end where the reader does the horror movie night.

I don't know anything about Talk To Me so I chose M3GAN instead, and I haven't seen Halloween in years so I'm sorry if I got something wrong.

Peter Parker / Spider-Man

I don't think Peter would really watch movies or shows all that often, he probably hasn't even finished any piece of media since before the spider bite. Even then, he was probably that kid who watched those really bad ones to make fun of with Harry and MJ.

I imagine his tolerance is most likely high, because of his real life experiences, he can handle fake blood, he can handle the fake injuries, most of them can't compare to what he's gone through.

But what he really can't handle? Psychological thrillers, and really good kid actors.

That scene in the shining where the two twins are standing there? He had to hold MJ's hand, Harry made fun of him for an entire month.

He tends to humanise fictional characters, especially the victims in horror movies. Maybe for some slashers he can understand their motives, but most of them hurt people who can't defend themselves and it makes him a little sick.

To see movies where this is used so effectively is honestly a little uncomfortable, he appreciates the mastery of how it's crafted and how realistic the pain is, but he can never watch it all the way through.

Peter's always been terrified of Carrie because he was also bullied, she, in a way, reflected on him. Of course, she also experienced abuse from her mother, unlike Peter, but the scene of everybody screaming in that hall will probably haunt him forever.

In a way, it keeps him grounded, it makes him remember Uncle Ben's words, it makes him remember to use his powers for good, and not for evil.

Miles Morales / Spider-Man

Miles and Ganke most likely sit down and watch some shows or movies every once and a while, he's never been a huge horror fan, and he's never watched any that really stuck with him.

He's mostly impressed with the art direction most of the time, the way they shot that scene in Carrie where it goes all around the prom in one, long, continuous shot?

It's beautiful, it gets him so engrossed he forgets it's supposed to be a scary movie.

Miles can't handle any that tackle and treat the loss of a parent as a main plot point, he could maybe handle it as a side plot, but it reminds him so much of how his dad's death affected him, his hands clam up, he feels sweaty, he just can't handle it.

It never really makes him connect with the story, it just makes me remember it as the 'oh God don't watch that' movie

The ones that get him truly terrified are honestly any that involve children and the elderly as the villains, that's not to say he'll be completely fine if he watches an adult brutally murder people.

Both

Peter and Miles haven't had a day off in months, they've been so focused on saving the city, helping their friends and family, they just don't have time for themselves.

Until today.

You had finally convinced the two, after hours of subtle and not so subtle convincing, they relented, under the promise that if any serious crimes were reported, they would get Ganke to check if the police have it handled or not, if they don't? They're abandoning the movie night.

Which you agreed with, because one night having fun is better than no time to yourself at all.

Peter and Miles sit down on the couch, while you make the popcorn and drinks, carrying the bowls of food and bottles of coke to the table, the microwave hums, drowned out by the two men chatting.

"Can you believe that Electro got out again." Miles sounds exasperated, and he looks it too, he and Electro had fought for what felt like hours, in reality it was only a few minutes, shocking each other until they couldn't fight any more.

"You get used to it, he'll probably stay a month in prison at most." Peter shrugs, leaning back on the couch and wincing slightly, an aching pain in his back started up again, but he was honestly too tired to ask for someone to crack it.

"This job is crazy." Miles laughs, shaking his head with an amused smile. "I can't believe it, each day, fighting bad guys, swinging for hours and hours, it's just... I love it." You cut the conversation short by bringing in the last bowl of popcorn.

"Whooo! Movie time!" You happily say, placing the bowl on the table with the other snacks and drinks, making sure it's perfectly placed before sitting on the couch. You grab the remote next to you and smile at Miles and Peter.

"What should we watch?" Before either can respond, you suddenly gasp, your eyes snapping back to the TV. "Oh! Actually, there's this new horror movie called M3GAN, I bought it a few weeks back and forgot to watch it." You ramble, turning the television on and searching for the movie.

"I guess we go with that one then." Peter mumbles, raising an eyebrow in amusement, you all haven't hung out in a while, even then, you do wish that Harry and MJ could've made it. So, it's clear you're just excited to spend time with them for once.

"It's about this robot that this lady makes after her niece loses her parents in a car accident." You cheerfully say, pressing play on the movie and taking a swig of coke. "After this, we're so watching Halloween."

The movie was something different to the two, when they think horror, both Peter and Miles would typically think 'man with knife stabs people', so it was a refreshing change.

Both men went through a flurry of emotions, the movie was sad, then funny, than horrifying, then funny, then scary, and then funny, it was a constant switch.

The fact that the girl lost her parents and she's clinging to the first thing that shows her respect, the lady stepped up at the end and proved she's a capable mother figure, it broke their hearts, but the jokes made them forget that temporarily.

They laughed, they went quiet in shock, and most of all? Peter cried, he couldn't help it, he isn't ashamed about it either, the girl losing her parents at such a young age reminds him of himself. Miles feels a similar way, he cried like a baby, he sobbed so much at that scene where the girl and the robot have that test and she breaks down.

Now it's time for the next movie.

"Halloween! You can't go wrong with the classics." You click on the movie. "Well, that's a lie, actually, plenty of classics suck." You mutter under your breath, pressing pause and turning to the two Spider-Men.

"Okay, first, bathroom breaks and refill time, you two ate all the popcorn so I'm making double." You get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen, both Peter and Miles go to the bathroom in that time, refilling their drinks with the bottle of coke on the floor, you return a few moments later with the multiple bowls of popcorn.

You all sit down, grab your bowls and drinks, and press play.

Overall, both men did enjoy the experience, they liked the costume of Micheal Myers, the mask and coveralls are iconic, they also both enjoyed the acting, if a bit subpar at times.

The plot was something they found to be interesting, the characters as well, they thought the therapist was a strange and weird character, who seemed a bit more unstable than Micheal.

Laurie Strode is a really inspiring character to the two, a survivor, someone who managed to take down one of the biggest threats her towns ever faced.

Just as the movie ends, you turn to the two men to see if they have any movie recommendations, but to your surprise, they've both fallen asleep.

Peter's mouth hangs open, his body pressed flat against the couch, his arms crossed and occasional light snores escapes his mouth. Miles is leaning his head on his arms, his body bent in an awkward position so he's sitting and leaning on the armrest.

For a few moments, you debate on whether or not you should wake them up, but decide against it. They need the rest. You gently move them into slightly more comfortable positions, placing blankets over the two, you stand up and reach for your phone.

You text MJ and Rio Morales, letting them know that the two would be staying at yours for the night.

[ihni]

The best gifts are the ones someone put some thought into

For @harringroveweek day 2, "Steve Harrington's Jockstrap" (+ the daily set word count of 666 words)

(Read on AO3)

~~~

Billy had explicitly stated that he didn’t want a celebration. Which was probably exactly why he was now sitting in the couch at Hopper’s cabin, wearing a glittery party hat (against his will), flanked on both sides by Steve and Robin Buckley respectively, and being forced to blow out the nineteen candles on the cake that had been placed on the coffee table in front of him. Because the little shits never listened. Or, according to Steve, they listened ... and then did their best to do the exact opposite of what they’d been told to do.

Said little shits were all sitting on the floor around the table, ready with their plates to dig into the cake (courtesy of Mrs. Byers, who was standing with Chief Hopper in the corner of the room; they were also watching, but at least they kept their distance, unlike Max and her little friends). Rolling his eyes and sighing, Billy blew out the candles and endured the cheering and clapping as he did. He got a kiss on the cheek, and glanced over at Steve, who smiled at him from under his own glittery party hat.

“Cake!” Mrs. Byers proclaimed, just before the kids descended on the cake. “Then presents!”

She made good on her threat twenty minutes later, when everyone had gotten their fill of sugary sponge cake and blue frosting. Billy, who was still trapped between Buckley and his boyfriend – no doubt they had planned it like that so that he wouldn’t be able to escape, knowing he wouldn’t be used to being in the center of this kind of attention – had no choice but to bite back his protests and let them pile a small mountain of presents on the table in front of him.

Not looking anyone in the eye, he reached for the first one – he wouldn’t get out of it at this point, so he might as well just get it over with.

He got a shirt from Mrs. Byers, a handwritten ‘get out of jail a speeding ticket’ card from the Chief (who knew the man had a sense of humor?), a copy of “Rocky Horror” on VHS from Buckley (which, he never should have told her he liked that movie, now she wouldn’t shut up about it) and four different comics (two Marvel, two DC) from Max’s little friends. It was more presents than he’d ever gotten for a birthday before, and he hadn’t even gotten to the ones from Steve or Mrs. Henderson yet. Feeling warm, but less in a feverish way and more in a pleasant way, he reached for the next box on the table. This one was badly wrapped in something that looked like taped-together napkins, and there was no name on it.

“It’s from me,” El said, probably having seen him turn it over to try to find a card.

He gave her a small smile as he set about opening the box. When he got it open, it took him a second to understand what he was looking at. A second during which Steve and Robin both leaned in to see what it was. When understanding dawned, Billy squeaked and shoved the flaps of the box closed, face burning. Next to him, Steve choked on air.

“Uh, El?” Robin said from the other side of him. “Is that a … jockstrap?”

Eyes wide and guiltless, El nodded. “Yes,” she said, before informing them helpfully, “It’s Steve’s.”

Billy squeezed his eyes shut. God, no.

“Why are you giving Billy Steve’s jockstrap?” the Chief asked, and oh great, he’d walked closer and was now standing just behind them.

“You said good presents should be something that a person likes,” El said. “And Billy said he loved this.” She smiled angelically and looked proud as she added in a conspiratorial whisper; “I snooped.”

Hiding his face in his hands, Billy pressed the box to his chest and wished for death. Steve was stammering next to him. Robin burst out cackling.

[swampstew]

Day 31 ~ Raven's Halloween Party

Title: Raven's Halloween Party CW: Spicy, orgy, multiple partners, one female, four males, edging, nipple play, humiliation, oral (male receiving), size kink, penetration, consent strongly established, breeding kink, bdsm, rough and soft sex, creampie, Eustass Kid, Rob Lucci, Killer, Charlotte Katakuri, Izou. M!n0rs DNI WC: 3.6 K

Congratulations to @xxmistressofflamexx for winning my Kinktober Halloween Bingo Board! Sorry for the late posting, nothing kills your spirit faster than an unsaved draft post that glitches and crashes at 2.3K words and having to start over on Word.

Special shoutout to @rowan-rites for the Hina Pot Brownie Queen HC, bow down to our edibles queen

Last DNI warning

“Y/N! I am so happy you came and you look so hot! Come inside,” Raven shrieked as she ushered you into the decorated mansion. You had felt a little anxious, coming separate from the rest of your friends. You had known Raven since childhood, the same group of school friends even as life drove you to vastly different places in your adult lives. She looked like royalty, dressed in a gorgeous gown and veiled cape; a crown on her head.

“What’s your costume?” you inquire as you both walk down the decorated hallway, three doors leading to different places stood in front of you and a table of three choices for you to consume.

“I’m Queen of the Pirates!” she exclaimed with a wide berth, pulling you to the table. You could see three inscriptions on each door: TRICK OR TREAT.

“On the left is TRICK – it’s a haunted house maze with pretty scary and gory animatronics. Once you complete it, the exit will lead you to the main party. To the right is TREAT - it’s where the food buffet is. Tons of scary, spoopy, and cute treats to eat only by the finest, Chef Zeff and his staff from the Baratie. You can eat to your hearts content and then follow the path to the party. OR – you can skip straight to the party. It’s getting filled up as we speak and I think I saw at least some of our friends in there. At least, they should be by now or they’re stuck in the maze still!” her head tilted back as she cackled.

“Wow this is amazing! How did you set up a haunted maze that’s so cool!” you had stars in your eyes, you LOVED being scared shitless.

“Have you heard of Eustass Kid?” you nod, stars still in your eyes and a flutter in your stomach. “He did it all himself. Absolutely refused help or input from anyone else,” Raven laughed again.

“Oh shit that’s really cool! How did you get him to agree?” you shyly inquired.

“Kid seems big and scary and he definitely is but even he can be bought, if the price is right.”

“Oh really? How big was the price tag for this project?”

Raven grabbed one of the table objects before turning back to you, a neutral smile on her face. “A hefty one but don’t worry about it, nothing I can’t handle!” she winked at you. “Never hurts to have a scary and hot ass acquaintance on your side if you’re in a pinch.”

“Haha no kidding! So what are those?” pointing to the wrapped objects.

“Pick your poison!” you present the three types. A liquid in a vial, a small brownie with pumpkin sprinkles, and what looked like a hardened gummy bear with a vampire costume. “A shot of our best house alcohol to get the buzz going thanks to Shanks; a very strong pot brownie to ease any horror jitters and anxieties thanks to Hina and an MDMA gummy thanks to someone who wishes to be anonymous.” She looked around for prying ears before leaning close to you, “it’s Queen and it’ll be fucking potent, just FYI,” winking at you.

Before you could even answer, Eustass FUCKING CAPTAIN Kid burst through OR with an annoyed scowl. He looked mouthwatering in person. In leather clad pants and shirtless, he really was a hulking monster of a man. Scarred and muscled body absolutely bursting in his tight barely an outfit. His biceps sported spiked cuffs and he wore a matching spiked collar. Standing even taller in his heeled and spiked boots, the outfit was complimented with a crown on his head.

“Raven your friends are fucking idiots!” he stomped up to the two of you, he looked you up and down multiple times before giving you a smirk. “Who are you?”

“One of Raven’s friends,” you squeak out.

“You’ll have to be more specific Kid. What happened?”

“Can’t handle a little horror or appreciation for art,” his scowl was back. “I don’t know you have a shitton friends. Anyways three are crying, deal with it.”

Raven glared at him, “gee thanks for killing the vibe King of the Pirates.” Looking apologetically at you, “sorry can I leave you in his hands and go calm down whatever he started?” she was already heading for the door as you nod shakily. “Thanks see you inside! Kid don’t be mean to her!” a gave him a final look before disappearing.

Smirk back on his face, “pick your poison,” he egged you on. “The brownies are pretty good, just saying,” he leered.

You eyed the three choices again, sweating. “I’ll take the shot,” you quickly say, reaching for it. He snatched it first, rolling it around in his hands for a moment before stepping in front of you.

“You didn’t tell me what your name is,” he glared.

“Y/N,” you peer up at him, he was a giant compared to you. That made you shiver, as you wondered if there would be other massive and handsome men like him inside.

“Y/N,” he hummed, smirk back on his face. He handed you the vial. “I’m not doing the stupid riddle, drink up.” As you licked your lips from the strong liquor, Kid held out his elbow for you and grabbed more vials. “C’mon let’s go. Lest another one of Raven’s friends piss their pants all lost and shit.”

You take his arm, not at all about to offer up that you would be completely fine. Knowing what to expect, you were able to truly appreciate the haunted maze for the vision Kid made. It was a mixture of classic horror monsters and truly visceral remains. A ton of jump scare, like way too many but that was ok because it let you jump into him and hold him tighter, and he liked it.

After you made it through the exit, all the shots had been drunk and you were no longer anxious, gushing praise at him for the brilliant mechanics and truly scary vibes. Chest puffed out, he led you to the drink bar where he introduced you to Thee Massacre Soldier. Who was dressed as a slutty cowboy, assless chaps showing off his toned ass, and his vest showed off everything else toned about him.

They led you to the dancefloor, Kid grabbed you and began grinding on your ass. Killer took you from the front and did the same. Dancing between the two muscled men, you were between a rock and a hard place. Your heat beating fast as a feeling gnawed inside you, a dampness spreading under your costume.

A feeling, like you were being hunted. You look to the wall and see the face of Rob Lucci. Raven didn’t tell you a lot about her adventures but you had heard one of him and he was…magnificent to look at. Still as a statue, dressed as a slutty Michael Jackson wearing the famous white suit and hat, shirtless underneath. He was watching you with sharp eyes, a small smirk on his lips when you made eye contact.

Kid growled in your ear as he turned and saw the heated look. Lucci looked at him and then kicked off the wall. Luffy danced in front of them, dressed as himself only wearing a crown on his head as he laughed loudly. Kid’s eyes narrowed and he snapped, “that’s so fucking played out!”

“He’s dressed like the other King of the Pirates. Go to Raven for some demon horns and a tail you brat,” Killer chuckled.

Darkly sputtering, Kid stalked off to find the hostess while Killer danced with you, switching to behind you and grinding your ass down on him. It was getting a little heated as Apoo played remixes and turned the lights down. You were practically dry humping Killer’s thigh in the dark lighting. You weren’t sure if the alcohol was finally getting to you, but you felt a light tingling. Maybe it was just your horniness, wetness spreading in your underwear. If you weren’t careful, it would run down your bare thighs and stain his chaps.

They heard Kid coming before he dragged Raven up to them. “The invite specifically said don’t dress up as King or Queen of the Pirates, the ONE thing,” he snarled at Killer as Raven secured the demon tail to his back belt loop. His crown slightly off kilter with the demon horn headband.

“Too many damn people, especially people we did not invite,” Kid growled as Lucci made a second appearance, leering at you from a wall.

“That’s not my fault,” Raven said through clenched teeth and a smile. “Fucking Shanks,” they both groaned. And as if summoned…

“HI GUYS!” Shanks, dressed as the Devil in a red tuxedo. “Are you having a good time? My name is Shanks, and who would this lovely lady be?” he literally snatched you from Killer and into a hug as you introduced yourself. “Let’s grab a drink and let me introduce you to some people. No one would have half the fun if I didn’t intervene randomly for no reason at all.”

Being whirled around by an Emperor sure meant you made a lot of cool connections and acquaintances that night, he made sure of it. You had made an impression on Charlotte Katakuri who was dressed as a very slutty fireman, a fuzzy “hose” scarf wrapped around his face while the firetruck box on his groin was the only other part of him covered. You heart fluttered after your introduction to Izou who was dressed so dashing in his prince charming costume, tight pants hugging his cute bubble butt, vest ripped open, in passion – he explained. Shanks got you close enough to finally have a conversation with Rob Lucci, and it had left you wanting for more. The way you felt so…inferior to him.

Kid shook you out of your trance, finally freeing you from Shank’s possession. He and Killer made quick work getting you back on the dancefloor, drinks in hand and enjoying the grinding once more when Izou decided to cut in. Then fucking Katakuri was taking a turn, gently twirling you around to the beat of the music, not at all doing it so your short dress would lift and expose the tight hugging panties on your delicious ass. At that point, Lucci decided he wanted to grab a drink with you.

Following him to the bar, he was straight to the point. “I think you’re a vision and if you’d like to go somewhere more private, I know a place.”

You gulp, you were not expecting to A) be around so many of your fantasy men, and B) actually sleep with anyone that night. You didn’t do one night stands often and maybe you were feeling braver than normal, but you found yourself nodding your head.

Killer was on your side in a second though, placing himself between you and Lucci. “Whatcha talking about Y/N?” he intruded, expression unreadable through his mask. Kid came up behind you, possessively grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“Private business,” Lucci hissed.

“This is a party, no business allowed,” Kid hissed back.

Katakuri came up just then, arms crossed. “Boys don’t start a fight on the dance floor. Y/N, let me take you somewhere else, they’re being so crude and immature.”

Izou popped up too, “Y/N are these guys bothering you? Do you need me to save you?”

Feeling dizzy and unsure, you rush through the throngs of people and out to the main entry hall. Taking deep breaths and trying to rationalize. The men were squabbling as they spilled out into the hall after you.

“STOP!” you hold out a hand, desperate for them to end their bickering. Then an idea formed in your perverted little brain. Looking them all up and down, you decided. “I want to fuck you all.”

That was how you found yourself on the ground surrounded by the pirates, completely naked and soaking underneath them, a blubbering mess of sweat and fluids thrashing around.

Lucci watched from the couch and every time your eyes met he would focus on the head of his cock, twisting his wrist and licking his lips at you. You moaned on Kid’s thick cock as he rutted into your throat, the vibrations of your moaning sending electricity down his back.

“Fuck Y/N your throat is…ngh…fucking great,” he grunted, sweat on his brow.

Panting behind you as Killer leaned his mask against your naked back, hips jutting against yours as he fucked your sopping core, both your legs spread open to accommodate Katakuri who was naked underneath you; slowly jerking his tip and fondling your body as Killer fucking into you pushed your core and clit against the giant man’s hardened length, you were gushing on him and he used your slick to lubricate his fisting.

You fondled Kid’s balls and he thrusted further into your throat, letting out another guttural growl. You squeal at the nearly suffocating gesture and he pulled out allowing you to breath. Gasping, you could finally voice your pleasure as Izou fondled your breasts with his skilled tongue. You’d never felt so edged out by having someone simply lick and stimulate your nipples but Izou had a unique touch, as kind as the man he turned out to be.

It was for that you decided to tighten your grip on his cock in your hand, jerking him up the curve of his length and thumbing the frenulum furiously. Izou’s breath hitched and he came undone in seconds, hot cum spurting out and landing on your boob and stomach, running down your body. He bent over, trying to catch his breath and the sudden orgasm you pulled from him, dizzy in fact.

Kid gave you a lecherous grin and before you could react, his cock was back in your mouth, muffling your cries and Killer picked up his pace. You bent over some more, applying more pressure to your clit on Katakuri’s cock and allowing Killer in deeper, hitting your g-spot and making you tremble. Thighs beginning to burn as you stayed in your position, allowing the pleasure to wash over you as you gagged on Kid’s length, praying you’d make it out of this mansion alive and in one piece.

“Fuck, ahhh,” Kid’s hips jerked and he grabbed the back of your head, shoving you roughly down his stiff cock, his hot seed spurting down your throat. You gasped at his salty flavor at the same time your clit, puffy and overstimulated gushed with your fluids, squirting once more on Katakuri’s cock, to his delight.

“Ahh what a good girl you are,” his giant hands rubbing and massaging your small thighs, fisting himself faster with your wetness. You squirmed on him, edged on by Killer’s sloppy thrusts as he also came. Coming deep inside you, his hips sharply rutting as he bent over your back again, burying himself deep in you.

“She’s a very good girl indeed,” Killer huffed out, keeping you plugged up with his cock.

“A good, beautiful girl who deserves a real man,” Lucci finally rose from the couch, angry red tip of his cock bobbing angrily. “I can’t wait to defile you in the way you deserve, hunched over like that, looking so good, like you’re meant to be bred,” his eyes zeroed in on you, hand back on his cock and fisting faster as his eyes widened with each word, slowly walking to you and between the other men.

“FUCK YOU LOSER!”

“Damn it Lucci you dick!”

“Oh fuck off Lucci!”

“Fuck you!”

The four pirates jeered at the assassin who scowled back, still jerking his cock. “Don’t listen to them, Y/N, they’re just pirate scum, Lucci sneered.

“FUCK THIS I’M OUT! Sorry Y/N but I ain’t crossing cocks with that dickwad. Kid gave you a final kiss as he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth with a pop. He zipped his pants and with a final middle finger to Lucci, slammed the door close.

“Rude ass,” Katakuri clicked his tongue. “But valid concern. I’m going to sit back on this one and watch from the couch, if you don’t mind Y/N. It’s the only safe space from Lucci’s ego.” He picked you up – disrupting the others – and set you back on the floor. You whined, you already missed having his humongous cock to grind on, grateful you had cum on it three times in a row and covered in your juices as he stroked himself. He licked your face and with a large kiss, he sat on the couch.

Killer and Izou glared at Lucci, who glared right back, before they turned to each other.

“I’m fine to keep going, if anything to not leave Y/N alone to be subjected to this asshole’s insanity. Y/N,” he leaned down, cock brushing against your face as he reached for you. “Do you mind if I cover your eyes?”

Trembling, “I don’t mind.” The thought of having your senses disrupted while being ravaged by two lethal pirates and one government ASSASSIN had you aching and soaked.

“Enough with the kink shaming, we’re all consenting adults here right?” Lucci scowled, all heads nodded. “That let me get off how I want without raining on my fucking parade.”

Killer came back and began to blindfold you. You whimpered, “try not take out your aggressions on me?”

Izou knelt down beside you and kissed you softly, trailing down your neck while he began tweaking your nipples again. Was it possible to cum from nipple stimulation? You hoped to find out. The tall presence of Lucci knelt down to your other side as he too began to suck and kiss your neck, leaving precise nips on your skin. You thought you might have felt him lick up a droplet of blood from one of the nastier bites he left you. Not even Kid had broken your skin like Lucci was doing.

“Stop trying to intimidate me,” Lucci hissed as he got behind you, without warning he inserted a thick finger inside you and began fingering you, while also scooping out the remains of Killer from inside you.

“Don’t need to try a damn thing,” Killer muttered darkly, the sound of his heavy mask falling to the floor made you gush. Lucci gasped at that, and without waiting any longer stuffed his cock inside you.

“Such a perfect pussy,” Lucci gasped, lips anchoring to your back as he continued nipping and licking your skin and you bucked your hips back against him. Killer kissed your lips before opening your mouth with his weeping tip. Licking his tip, you swallow him up, eagerly bobbing on him, and he wasn’t as rough as Kid had been, allowing you to be in control. Izou’s fingers began rubbing your clit and you choked out a sob, you couldn’t take much more of this!

“Don’t worry love, cum all you want, enjoy them all you want, but know that I’ll be the one finishing inside you from now on,” he mumbled in the shell of your ear.

“Stop covering her up, angle her towards me so I can see,” commanded Katakuri from the couch. “There, perfect. Look at her. Such an eager, tiny woman, amongst such titans,” he growled deeply.

“Killer, I can’t!” your eyes leaked tears caught in the cloth.

“You can Y/N. Can you give me one more delicious wail?” bobbing only his cockhead past your lips, his balls immediately raising to his shaft.

Izou increased his pace on your clit and you were done, scream bubbling from your throat as the orgasm was ripped from you. You heard Killer curse loudly as he came, holding you by the column of your throat as you choked down his thick cum.

You hadn’t heard Katakuri get up but he must have as suddenly his massive presence was next to you and you heard him give out a restrained moan, and then his seed landed on your body. It was very sticky and thick, you weakly raised a finger to the drops on your breast and dragged through it, it felt like icing on a pastry. Another hot spurt of seed landing on your body and Izou’s ragged breath was in your ear, his cock hitting your side as his cock gushed out the last of his cum.

Lucci pushed you down on all fours and began jackhammering into you, a hand on the back of your neck and the other holding your plush hip in a bruising hold. “Fuck your perfect cunt is milking me dry, I knew you wanted it,” Lucci hissed as he buried himself deep in you, hitting your cervix and spurting forth his cum. Angled just right, his seed swam directly to your womb and you began to feel a warmth, suddenly a little too full. His swollen cock stayed inside you as he undid your blindfold.

Exhausted and on the cusp of collapse, Katakuri gathered you in his arms and cradled you to his chest. Sweaty, covered in filth and cum, but looking so satisfied. The others picked themselves off the floor and dressed in silence.

“I’m going to wash her off and take her home, unless anyone else objects?”

Hearing none, Katakuri dropped his scarf over your body until he could get you clean. Washing you down and taking gentle care of you, as if you were a frail doll, he clutched your clean body to his chest.

“So little and cute. If you’d like I can stay with you and keep taking care of you. I can only imagine the hangover you’ll have,” he muttered to you.

Heavy lids opening, you could only nod at him and drag his massive hand to cover your body as you clung to him. His cock stirring again, he snuck you out of the mansion discreetly to take you home and take care of you, just like he wanted.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 22 — Halloween Prank

Pairing || Roommate!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 700

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Angst — mention of weapons and murder, horror vibes.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Flufftober Masterlist

Tonight was yours and Bucky’s weekly movie night marathon, and since it was October, you were, of course, going to watch something spooky.

“Ok, are you ready for some spooks?” Bucky asked as he sat the popcorn down on the coffee table.

“Oh, yes, I am.”

He found his place beside you on the sofa with all the soft and fluffy blankets, pressing play once you both settled down comfortably.

For the first 20 minutes of the movie, everything was fine until suddenly, all the power went out in the house, making you shriek in fear.

“Well, that’s not fucking scary at all.” Bucky chuckled nervously.

“No, why did this happen while watching a fucking scary movie, Buck?” You panicked.

“It’s probably just a circuit that’s been overloaded. Don’t worry; I’ll fix it. Just stay here. I know how much you hate the basement.

“Hurry, please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You grabbed your phone and put the flashlight on so that you weren’t sitting in total darkness.

It’s been 10 minutes, and he still wasn’t back. Why was it taking so long? It shouldn’t be so hard to turn it back on.

Suddenly, you hear a scream that sounded like Bucky coming from the basement. In a panic, you got to your feet as you called for him.

“Bucky! Bucky! Are you alright?”

Nothing…

You called his name again, but no answer.

Worried that he may have tripped and hurt himself, you make your way to the basement door. Standing at the top of the stairs, you shined the light down to see if you saw anything.

“Please, Bucky, tell me if everything’s ok!”

Still no answer…

“I swear to fucking God, Buck, you better not be messing with me!”

Nothing…

“Alright, I’m coming down.”

You fucking hated the basement, but you had to make sure he was ok. You slowly started your descent down the stairs. The wood creaked under your steps. Your heart was pumping hard and fast in your chest.

What if someone had broken into your house and turned off all the lights on purpose to get you both down here and murder you? What if Bucky was dead? Fuck, why didn’t you bring a fucking knife with you?

When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you listened for sounds, but it was dead quiet. That made it even more terrifying.

You made your way to the circuit box, shining the light in the pitch-dark basement.

A chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something or someone was watching you.

Suddenly, you felt light breathing down your neck. Your blood turned cold, and your body stiffened up when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

This is how you fucking die. Someone had come to kill you.

You turned around and were met with a horrifying face—a face of a demon.

You screamed as they do in horror movies.

You didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing your mind and body could think of, getting down to the ground in a fetal position. There was no point in running. You were going to die.

You suddenly hear laughter, and you immediately recognise that it's Bucky. That little fucking shit was enjoying how much he had petrified you.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Bucky? I almost had a fucking heart attack. I really thought I was gonna die. It’s not fucking funny.” You hit his shoulder. “If I had brought a knife down with me, I would have fucking stabbed you, asshole!”

He took the demon mask off, still laughing.

“Oh, you should have fucking seen yourself, doll. Absolutely priceless!”

“Shithead.” You mumbled under your breath.

He offered his hand to help you up from the ground. You looked at it in disgust for a second or two before you took it. He pulled you up and gave you a big comforting hug.

“I’m sorry, doll. But I did prank you real fucking good; you have to admit that.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Well, I love you too, silly girl.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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[freebirdyance]

TW: mentions of human trafficking, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of kidnapping children, child abuse, homophobic language, blood, gore, murder (patricide and matricide)

2,233 words x.x

“Boy! Get in here now!”

Whenever Anthony called him into the kitchen, it was never good news.

It meant that his father had something that needed to be done, and Yancy knows well enough by now that it wasn’t to mow the lawn or take out the trash. No, this would involve the family business and a particular task that the old fuck decided to torture his son with this week. Another reason why it was always the kitchen, he soon found out; refusal meant that any number of knives and meat cleavers could be used against him like a fucking thanksgiving turkey.

Yancy strides in, steel in his spine, and barely concealed hatred in his eyes. Showing anything else could make Anthony snap like an old rubber band. He grins sadistically from where he sits at the kitchen table. His mother stands at his side, and she could have been beautiful if she didn’t have the same dead look in her eyes as her husband.

“Sit.” Anthony points at the other end of the table like he’s commanding a dog. Yancy complies, if only it means that he can be given the job and get away from them as soon as possible. “Big changes are comin’ for our operations, boy. And since you haven’t been completely useless lately, I’m givin’ you an opportunity to prove yourself.”

Lucky me. It takes Herculean effort to keep the words to himself, and Yancy only nods in response. But it doesn’t stop goosebumps from breaking out over his body, dread sinking to the deepest pits of his stomach. Something’s off. He’s seen many sides of his father, all of them dark and sadistic. Right now, he’s… giddy. Manic. Somehow, it’s more terrifying.

“Tomorrow night, you and a group of guys are goin’ to the fair that’s comin’ to the next town over.”

Yancy blinks, dumbfounded. Of all the jobs he’s done, he’s never been ordered to attend a fair. What, are they going to fucking rob it? Wouldn’t it be crowded? “This yer way of givin’ me a night off or somethin’?” It’s out before he can stop it, and he manages not to flinch.

Anthony’s fist flexes so tightly that Yancy wouldn’t be surprised if the gaudy gold rings snapped in half and flew across the room. “You’re lucky I’m in such a good fuckin’ mood, Junior. I’ll tell you what you’re goin’ there for…”

What his father proceeds to tell him only proves just how much of a monster he truly is.

“You’re gonna use that pretty face and smart mouth of yours to charm some lovely little flowers into coming with you and the others.” He pauses, grinning when he sees that Yancy still doesn’t get it. “Or, get them outta sight and use force if you have to. You’ll be given parameters to follow for looks and whatnot because certain things will be worth more money when we sell them to the highest bidder.”

When… what?

All the air leaves Yancy’s lungs like he’s been holding it in for hours. The look of utter horror on his face must please the older man greatly if his sickening chuckle is anything to go by. He could handle breaking and entering, he could handle fighting and fuck he’s even killed a few people at this point, but this? Sweat beads along his hairline and he can feel what he had for dinner threatening to make a reappearance.

Selling people. The demon sitting across from him wants to start fucking selling people. Innocent people. The microscopic solace he could ever hide in is that most of the people he’s hurt we’re just as bad as he is.

“I don’t…” Yancy’s voice is cracked, no moisture remaining in his mouth as he swallows hard and tries again. “You want me to kidnap innocent women so we can sell them off.” It's less of a question and more of a reaffirming statement about the nightmare he’s found himself in.

“Yeah. Well, women, to start with… I hear kids are even more valuable.” He glosses over that addition quickly while Yancy has to try not to gag. “And hey, that sissy actin’ shit of yours from high school will come in handy, too. You may just be more useful to me after all.” Wouldn’t be dear old dad if he couldn’t get in some kind of jab about his extracurriculars. Now that Yancy is barely nineteen, the old fuck is ecstatic that those distractions are no more.

Everything tunnels into this one moment. His stomach drops like he’s on the edge of a precipice and desperately trying to decide if he’s going to fall into the murky depths, or to his hands and knees so he can claw his way to some kind of less fucked reality. He’s done everything they’ve asked of him up to this point, even if he felt a bit of his soul die each time until all that was left resembled a wisp of smoke after a candle was blown out.

He wouldn’t let them take it from him.

“No.” He answers firmly as he stares directly into the black void of Anthony’s eyes. The look on Yancy’s face must give him pause because he sees the flash of genuine concern before it's snuffed out by rage. It pleases him.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I. Said. No.” Yancy forces out again, his own anger and fear mixing into something that has his entire body trembling.

For a split second, everything slows down before quickly being kicked into hyperspeed, and the table between them is suddenly being tossed to the side like it’s made out of cardboard. Yancy barely has time to get to his feet before he can feel the calloused hands of his father wrap around his neck and squeeze. Fat fuck was always faster than he looks.

“Don’t hit him in the face, Tony!” His mother calls out shrilly. Ice invades his heart when he immediately knows she isn’t concerned with his safety, but the worry that any bruises or cuts on his ‘pretty face’ would make luring innocent victims more difficult.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Anthony spits through clenched teeth as his grip tightens. “I’ve had just about enough of your fucking bullshit, Junior. Just when it looked like you were gonna actually fall in line… maybe I should sell you to a new master, huh? You’d probably fucking love that.”

Yancy gasps for air as he claws at Anthony’s arms. Past experience tells him that fighting back only resulted in the beatings being worse, to the point where he would have to spend days in his room to recuperate. The only advantage this monster has is expecting him to yield to avoid that punishment.

Not this fucking time.

Something snaps inside of him, the last frayed end of his rope finally giving out completely, and with all the might he can muster, Yancy raises his boot and aims a kick directly to his assailant's knee. Roaring with pain and anger, he releases his neck and drops to the floor on his other knee, only for Yancy to kick him square in the chest to knock him down.

His heart is pounding, ribs straining to stop it from bursting out of his chest and onto the ugly linoleum floor, and he grabs the first thing he sees. A butcher's knife sticks out of the knife block. Backing away, eyes crazed like a cornered animal as he looks between them and holds the knife out in front of him.

His mother has sprung into action, her focus being on her husband writhing in agony on the ground. Yancy has reached his full height by now, and he’s in better shape than the older man by a long shot. He’s never fought back with full force until this very moment, whatever restraint he possessed before being torn away. Yancy would be grinning like a maniac if he wasn’t trying to focus past the blood rushing between his ears.

Years of abuse and ridicule fuel him, unlocking the cage to the beast that resides deep inside of him. It’s been beaten and prodded through the bars long enough, and now it wants blood. The hand holding the knife is shaking, but not from fear. Not anymore. “Fuckin’ monsters… you think I would help you start somethin’ like that?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Even though there is a lack of fear, his voice still trembles as he mourns what he never had.

A childhood… a normal childhood with parents that loved him. Something they would so easily rob from others just for a fucking payday.

The answer he’s met with is laughter. Deep and hollow, echoing straight from the pits of hell itself. And his father just stares at him. “Who says it hasn’t already started?” He responds coldly.

It feels like the floor drops out from under him, but somehow, he manages to keep his footing. That sentence reverberates inside of his skull, and an icy chill cascades down his body. He wasn’t the only beast in the room, and the realization of what he has to do hits him like a freight train. It would never stop. He could escape from them and live on the run, using everything he’s learned to try and piece together a life outside of them.

But then what? They keep hurting people who don’t deserve it. They get worse. He could pray to whatever exists that their enemies would stack against them and kill them off.

Yancy wasn’t good; his family made sure of that. But a deep part of him thrived in the violence, and whether that's because his parents beat that into him or he was cursed from the moment he was born, it didn’t matter. He has his own set of fucked morals, and with the next several decisions he makes… he would have to come to terms with that.

This time, when he stares at Anthony Berlusconi Sr., the concern doesn’t melt away in an instant. Because he’s staring into another set of dead eyes that only show him his doom.

Yancy’s legs slowly carry him forward, and it feels like he isn’t even in control of them. Like the Devil himself has a grip on his shoulders, guiding him to the greatest purpose he can have. And before the monster he’s set to vanquish can utter another word, his arm is slashing out and slicing his throat open. The blood that splatters on his arms is lava against skin gone cold, but it only fuels him as Anthony clutches at his own neck.

His mother screams. She may even beg, but the roaring in his head blocks it out as he repeats the motion once more, crimson splattering against the cabinets. He should feel something, shouldn’t he? It’s like a dream, hazy around the edges and tunneled onto their panicked bodies. Watching his parents bleed out on the floor, desperately searching their expressions in their last moment for something he’s not even sure of.

Then… he knows why he doesn’t feel a damn thing. There’s no remorse for what they’ve done to him, the pain and agony they’ve caused him and others. No regret for what they chose to do with their lives. Only shock and anger that this is how they are going out flickers in their eyes. All at the hands of a son they never wanted for anything other than carrying on their brutal legacy.

By the time his vision comes back to him from the murky darkness, the bodies have been cleaved and cut until they are unrecognizable, and his throat feels like he ate sandpaper. Raw from screaming. He can’t… be here anymore. He has to move, fucking move, Yance. He searches Anthony’s body for his cell phone, surprised that it managed not to get split into pieces. Fingers slide against the device, too wet with blood to type anything.

He has to leave. Now.

He takes the cleaver and phone and leaves everything else behind. This was the house he grew up in, but it wasn't the only place that belonged to the family.

Personal belongings didn't matter to him now; everything inside is tainted just as surely as the kitchen is coated in the blood of his parents. What better way to cleanse it than with fire?

He finds a canister of gasoline in the garage and douses everything he sees as he enters the house for the last time, paying special attention to the kitchen. When he gets to the car, he's lighting a cigarette and doesn't even hesitate to toss the match onto the accelerant on the cement floor.

And as he speeds off in his car and watches the flames begin to grow in his rear view mirror, he stares at the man looking back at him. No more mourning what he never had, no more living in fear. His path would be forged in blood and fealty. If he couldn't vanquish the entirety of the evil, then it would bend to his fucking will.

Staring up at the massive building that is the main base of their operations, he knows the night is just beginning.

END PART ONE

[childrendrinkingbubblebath]

Fictober Day 1

~Pairings: Fezco xfem!reader

Content Warnings: G*ns and g*n v*olence, mentions of bl*od, yelling, mentions of d*ugs.

Word Count: 1097 words

Author’s Note: This is a shorter fic, I wanted to add more but wasn’t 100% sure how to continue it to make it better without making it painfully long or messing it up. So, I leave you with this, wrapping up prompt one of Fictober!~

The night was slowly coming to an end. Halloween really ended around 9 for anyone besides teenagers and young adults chasing the night. Y/n loved Halloween, and seeing all the little kids in their cute costumes, running around in the night for a sweet tooth fix. Fez and Ashtray ran their own business a few blocks over, near a local party. Not wanting to be around the teen and adult Halloween scene, she stayed home to pass out candy. She dressed up as Rapunzel, not wanting to scare little kids. In between rushes of trick-or-treaters, she sits in the living room, watching a classic list of Halloween movies, switching between horror flicks and classic, fun and cute movies, like It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. 

The current movie, however, is Little Shop Of Horrors. Not much of a Halloween film specifically, but a horror movie, so it made her list. The doorbell rings, and she heads to the door, wondering what kind of costumes this group of kids or kid would be wearing. Happily, she flings open the door, not expecting the surprise that greets her. A taller man, dressed in black, with a scar across his face, holds a gun pointed right at her face. She lets out an involuntary gasp, then tries not to move or make any other sounds. 

“Trick or treat, motherfucker!” The man shouts, looking at her. He looks almost confused as he looks around her, into the house. “Who the fuck are you” You know what, that don’t matter, get the fuck in the house!” He swings the gun around like a professor would a laser pointer, not giving a damn what the consequences may be if there would be a slip-up and the trigger would be pulled. Knowing this man could be dangerous and potentially deadly, she listens, setting the candy bowl she had grabbed down on the table next to the door. 

The man points the gun to the couch, then waves it back to her, signaling for her to sit. Y/n sits, wanting nothing more than for the night to be over already, and wishing that she had just decided not to pass out any more candy. The man shuts the house door and looks at her. “Where the fuck is Fez?” She shrugs, knowing the truth, but not wanting to say, and knowing that playing dumb would be her best bet of getting out of the situation without any harm. Her shrug is unsatisfactory to the mysterious man, who glares and holds the gun up, as if to pistol whip her. “Do you know when he’ll be back then?”

“He said around 2,” She says quietly, scared that the answer would scare the man. He shakes his head, planning his next move. Looking outside of the door, she sees a group of trick or treaters going towards the pathway to the door. “There’s kids coming up to the house.”

“Turn off your porch light then,” He says. Nodding in cooperation, y/n stands and walks over to the door, flicking one of the three switches along the wall, the one that turns the porch light off. She hears the groans of the kids as the parents shout from the street that no light means no candy. Y/n’s heart breaks at the sound of the kids being unsatisfied, but returns back to the couch. The man grabs her phone from the coffee table and hands it to her. “Unlock it, pull up Fez’s fucking contact, I ain’t got all day to sit here and wait for his ass to get home.”

Y/n cooperates, wanting no trouble. She hits the call button under the contact, and with a chime, it connects and starts to ring. She puts it on speaker, and within two rings, Fez answers. “Baby?” He asks on the other line. “What’s going on?”

The man takes the phone. “Don’t baby me you piece of shit. You better get your ass back here with my money before I blast this bitches head all over your granny ass looking house.” The man doesn’t let Fez get another word in before hanging up and tossing Y/n’s phone to the couch. He sits down in a chair next to the couch and looks at the TV, keeping his gun pointed at Y/n, which keeps her on the couch, not wanting to provoke him in any way. 

It takes minutes for Fez to come home. Ashtray, who was with him at the party, is nowhere to be seen. Upon entering the house, Fez pulls a wad of cash from his pockets, handing it to the guy. “Look, I don’t want any problems, man.” 

The man counts the cash, putting his gun in his waistband. Fez watches him count it, standing close to the couch, and between Y/n and the man. “It’s missing $50,” the man points out. “Where the fuck is the rest of my money bitch?”

The shout makes Y/n jump, and takes her to a different place. Suddenly, she’s back in

her childhood home, watching from around the corner of the hallway into the kitchen as her dad sits at the dining table with two strange men, a selection of prescription bottles and bags of powder scattering where they had eaten TV dinners less than 4 hours before. The man at the table watches her dad pull a stack of bills from his pocket, handing it to the guy. She doesn’t hear what’s exchanged between her dad and the man, until the man starts yelling, claiming that there was money missing. Scared, she stands in the hallway, watching and frozen in fear. Her dad scrambles to try and get whatever money is missing. With his back turned to the man and the table, spinning the lock to the safe that sat in the dining room, the man takes out a gun, pointing it to Y/n’s father’s back, and pulling the trigger. 

Y/n is snapped out of her memory with a touch and the sound of Fez and someone else, screaming in pain. Fezco kneels in front of her, cupping her face with one hand, holding one of her hands with the other, and saying her name, concern coating his normally casual and chill voice. She looks up at him, and sees splatters of red on his face. Looking around, she sees even more blood splatters, the man on the floor screaming and holding his face, and Ashtray, standing above the man’s body, a bloody meat tenderizer in his hands. 

[lemonlillybee]

G is for Ghost

Title: G is for Ghost 

@halloweenie-event Prompt: “You know ghosts aren’t real, right?”

@flufftober Prompt: Blankets

Summary: Peter has a fever and watches a scary movie

Word Count: 614

Read on AO3

Tony arrives home, grinning when hears a movie playing on the TV, volume turned down low but still projecting the unmistakable sounds of a horror film, complete with eerie music and screams. He knows Peter has been camped out on the couch all evening while he’s been gone, and he’s glad he’s feeling well enough to watch a movie. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. has been alerting him of Peter’s fluctuating temperate all night, which has been hovering on the edge of a fever and only crossing over in the past hour or so. Currently, he’s sitting at a warm 101.1 degrees, and Tony is already anticipating how clingy that’s going to make Peter when he sees that he’s finally home. He goes into his room to change into sweatpants first, then rounds the corner into the living room, fully prepared to be sucked onto the couch by a sticky, feverish spider-kid for the next several hours.

“Hey, Roos,” he says, and Peter jumps, his whole body jerking violently as he startles. He scrambles sideways on the couch, away from Tony until his back is up against the armrest on the opposite end, red-rimmed eyes wide with fear.  

“Sorry, I thought you heard me come in,” Tony says, frowning. 

“I heard something, but…I thought…I thought there was a ghost.”

Tony comes to stand in front of Peter, palming his forehead and blowing out a breath. “You know ghosts aren’t real, right?”

“Uh…” 

Tony moves his hand down to cup Peter’s cheek, frowning at the excessive heat coming from his skin. He considers moving him to his bed, but he eyes the nest of blankets on the couch and figures he’ll sleep just the same out here. Peter sniffles and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, and after a moment he cracks one eye open, squinting up at Tony in suspicion. 

“You’re not a ghost?”

Tony sighs. “Would a ghost do this?” He asks, grabbing the box of tissues from the coffee table and holding it out to Peter, who’s dragging a sleeve under his nose. Peter freezes, sniffling wetly into his sleeve, but he still looks warily up at Tony. Noticing that he’s shivering slightly, Tony sets the tissue box in Peter’s lap instead, then grabs one of the blankets and wraps it around his trembling shoulders.

“A ghost could probably do that,” Peter says after a few moments, and Tony snorts. 

“Well, maybe I’m a friendly ghost.”

“Like Casper?” 

Tony chuckles as he sinks down onto the couch next to Peter. “Maybe we should watch that instead of this scary movie. Hm?”

Peter considers the idea for a moment, then nods. 

“FRI? Can you change the movie, please?” Tony smiles when the screen changes and Peter relaxes slightly against him. Tony grabs another blanket from Peter’s previous nest and adds it to the one already wrapped around him.

It’s not long before Peter either realizes he’s not a ghost, or maybe comes to terms with the idea that he is but he’s a friendly ghost, and Tony will take either option at this point. Either way, he finally gets those clingy, feverish spider-kid cuddles he’s been anticipating as Peter wraps warm arms around him and rests his head against Tony’s shoulder, huffing out a shaky, congested sigh and closing his eyes only a few minutes into the new movie. Tony grabs one last blanket, pulling it over both of their laps and smiling when Peter hums in contentment.

Even though Peter falls asleep soon after, Tony finds himself watching the entire movie, running his fingers soothingly through Peter’s hair and picking up tips on how to be a friendly ghost. 

[peter3ismybf]

impossible choice- part 3

Spencer stared at the computer screen, Penelope sitting beside him, watching anxiously. The house across the street from them had informed them that they had security cameras around their garage, and the bus stop was just visible. They had just sent it in, and now Spencer, Hotch, Penelope, Emily, and Derek watched closely at the footage.

It started normal, and within a minute Spencer saw his kids approach the bus stop. Eloise was hunched over her phone, per usual, which Elijah seemed to notice because he bumped her in the shoulder. She looked up and bumped him back, her face discernible but Spencer knew it probably showed mock annoyance. He felt himself smile despite the situation.

Suddenly, a car pulled up in front of them, a red pick up truck. Hotch put his finger on the monitor, pointing at the back of the truck. “Garcia, will you be able to enhance this to see the license plate?”

“I should be able to, it’s already pretty visible on it’s own.” She said and the silence resumed.

A man stepped out of the truck, and Spencer’s kids didn’t pay any mind to him until he approach them. He had his hands in his pockets at first, but Spencer watched in horror as he removed one of his hands, keeping it low. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew it was a gun by the way Eloise’s and Elijah’s body language changed. He watched as Elijah nodded and Eloise seemed frozen as the man took both of their phones and threw them to the ground, smashing them.

With that, he guided the children into his truck, and within moments his children were gone.

It was quiet in the room as everyone processed what they had just watched. Spencer hadn’t even realized his hands had curled into shaking fists, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He wasn’t sad anymore that his children had been taken- he was angry. 

He was angry that it had been so easy. He was angry with himself that he hadn’t taught them what to do in that situation- he’s an FBI agent for fucks sake and he hadn’t even thought to tell them what to do when someone points a gun at them. He was angry that this guy had enough nerve to take two innocent teenagers off of the street in broad daylight. 

Spencer turns and storms out of the room. He doesn’t know where he’s walking, his legs just carry him, much like they did the night he got that call from the twins’ mother. He enters an empty conference room, where a stack of papers sit on the table in the middle. In a moment of immaturity and rage, he swipes the papers off of the table, sending them fluttering to the ground. It’s like the papers he was reading had flown to the ground when he had stood so abruptly, finding out he was a father.

Everywhere he goes, he is reminded of them. 

“Spence?”

He turns to see JJ standing in the doorway. She glances at the papers littering the ground, and returns her eyes to the broken man standing in the middle of them. 

“I’-I’m sorry, I’ll pick them all-”

In one swift motion, JJ crosses the room and puts her arms around him. His anger dissipates, and he lowers his face into her shoulder, sobbing. She says nothing- she doesn’t need to. She rubs his back soothingly, in a way only a mother could.

“I just want them back.” he whispers.

“I know, I know Spence. We’ll get them back, I promise.” She says.

.....

“Let’s shoot him.”

Eloise looks up. She hasn’t sure how long it’s been- it couldn’t have been longer than 25 minutes, she knows, but the minutes seem like hours to her. She and Eli haven’t spoken since the man left.

“What?”

“When he comes back, we’ll tell him we’ve decided.” Eli begins. “I’ll say we decided that I’ll sh-” he stutters over his words, incredibly uncomfortable with saying what he was going to say. “I’ll say we chose you. He’ll load the gun, hand it to me, and I’ll turn and shoot him.”

“But what if he has a gun?” Eloise asks.

“He’ll be shot, so it’s very unlikely he’ll get an accurate shot off at us.” Eli explains. Eloise considers this- it’s there best chance at survival, she knows this. Getting the man injured is their only way of possible escape.

“Okay, we’ll do it.” she agrees.

And now they wait.

.....

“Guys!”

Penelope’s yell from her room alerts the team, who rush to her. 

“Okay, so I tracked the license plate back to a man named Michael Walker. Now, Michael was just released from a local mental facility last week, and he was admitted for Dissociative Identity Disorder after ‘concerning his family with homicidal threats,’“ She begins. The team listens.

“He has one address here at 161 Baxton Road, and when I looked up the address, it comes up as a farm.” She says.

“Thats where he is.” Hotch says.

In a flash, the team is moving. Spencer leads the way down to the cars in the garage, him hopping into the passenger seat with Derek. 

For a minute while they drive, there is silence- neither of them bothers to turn on the radio.

“Listen Pretty Boy, we’re gonna get them.” Derek finally speaks.

“But what if we don’t, Derek?” Spencer asks, not using his last name. “What if he’s already...”

“You can’t think like that, Reid. We’re still in the 48 hour window, barely into it even.” Derek replies firmly, not letting Spencer get any other argument against it. 

Spencer watches the trees pass by the car, seemingly in slow motion. 

“Eloise knocked one of Eli’s teeth out once.” He says suddenly.

“What?”

Spencer smiles, thinking of the memory. “They were 7, and I was working on something in the living room. The next thing I knew, I heard a thump and a scream and Eloise calling me. I rushed in there to find Eli sitting on the floor, and there was blood everywhere!” He laughs slightly, a breathy, exhausted laugh. Derek smiles, glad to see his friend lost in the happy memory.

“Apparently they were playing ‘Store’ or something, and Eli wasn’t following Lou’s instructions, so she punched him. Square in the jaw. She knocked out his front tooth, which he had been trying to pull out on his own for weeks. He was upset at first, and obviously I was upset with Lou, but after a while he kept coming to me saying ‘Daddy, it’s fine. The tooth fairy is gonna come!’”

Derek laughs, causing Spencer to laugh too. 

“They really are something kid.” Derek says.

“I love them more than the world.” Spencer admits, though this was a given truth everyone on the team knew. 

......

The door slammed open, the back hitting against the wall. Eloise and Elijah both jumped as the man entered. This time, he seemed more disgruntled, and his face bore no expression. He moved toward them and put himself between the two.

“Have you decided?” He asked in a gruff voice that seemed octaves lower than before.

“We have.” Eli said, his tone grave. Eloise liked to believe it was a facade, but something about his voice was real and raw, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“And?” the man asked.

Eli glanced down. “I’ll shoot her.”

The three words made Eloise’s blood run cold, even though she knew it was a setup. Hearing her brother say he was about to shoot her was never something she thought she would have to hear. 

“Perfect.” The man said, satisfied. He picked up the gun from the ground and loaded a single bullet into the chamber. Eloise waited for him to hand it to Eli, but instead he stood behind Eli with the gun.

“Put your hands on the gun.” he instructed. Eli sent Eloise a panicked look. They hadn’t planned for this. 

It seemed so obvious. Obviously he would stand in a place where he couldn’t be shot. Of course he would direct the gun. 

Eloise was about to die.

Her breathing quickened. “W-wait, Elijah!” she choked out.

He shakily put his hands on the gun, mimicking the man’s hands. “Wait, can we- can we just take a minute and really talk-”

“NO! You had an hour to talk!”  The man barked, making Elijah jump. The twins were silent, and a look of comprehension passed over the man’s features.

“Oh....Oh! You were going to...Oh my god!”

He was laughing. 

This psychotic man, who was helping a teen boy point a gun at his twin sister, was hysterically laughing. Eloise felt like she should feel anger, but she shook like a leaf out of fear. She knew her face was pale, and tears were streaming down her face. Elijah wasn’t much better, tears streaking his cheeks.

“You two really are stupid, you know.” The man recovered from his laugh.

“What’s your name?” Eloise blurted out. She hadn’t thought to ask before, but now that she had said it in a moment of panic, it seemed like an obvious question.

The man cocked his head at her. “Why do you want to know?” he asked, genuinely curious. “You’ll be dead in a few minutes anyway.”

Eloise swallowed, ignoring what he had said after the question. “You know our names, it only seems fair.”

“Fair?”

“Aren’t we playing a game? Like Saw?” Eloise asked. She knew she was stalling for time- why, she didn’t know, she was only prolonging her death.

The man smiled, a creepy, childish smile. “I guess we are, aren’t we?”

Eloise racked her brain for ways to continue to conversation. “Have you seen the movies?”

The man’s smile faded. “No, I don’t like horror movies.”

Eloise laughed. She genuinely laughed, doubling over in her seat. She didn’t know if it was hysterics, or her completely just losing her mind. But something about her kidnapper saying he didn’t like horror movies was just so surreal to her that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop! Stop it!” The man suddenly yelled, and Eloise stopped. The man had backed away from Elijah, bringing the gun with him. His hands were over his ears, and he cowered away from them, hiding his face. His shoulders slightly shook.

“Are you- are you crying?”

The man’s whole demeanor shifted. Instead of the gruff, cold man that had walked into the room, he now resembled the body language of a young boy who had just been reprimanded.

“Stop laughing at me! I’m in charge!” He yelled louder, lowering his hands from his ears. Angry, hot tears ran down his face, and his sadness was replaced with anger. He quickly walked back over to Elijah and clumsily positioned his hands how they were. Eloise’s eyes widened and Elijah started trying to squirm out of his hands.

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry I laughed!” Eloise said desperately, but the man shook his head, ignoring her.

“Shoot her!” he yelled in Elijah’s ear.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper, but it echoed loudly in the room.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” The man said through gritted teeth.

“She’s going to shoot me instead.” 

“No! Elijah, no!” Eloise said urgently. The man looked up at her, and back to Elijah. He set his lips, and started to walk over to Eloise.

“Elijah, stop! NO, I’m not shooting him! I won’t do it! You’ll have to kill me!” She screamed like a wild animal, thrashing in her restraints. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor, making an earsplitting screech, but it was barely background noise in Eloise’s head.

The thought of her being shot was something that scared her. The thought of shooting her own brother was worse.

The man stood behind her and positioned her hands despite her thrashing. Her finger grazed the trigger, and she screamed even louder. 

“Stop screaming, or I’ll make it worse.” The man said in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. 

“There is no way this can get worse!” She hissed back.

The man didn’t say anything back, instead increasing his pressure on Eloise. His chest pressed painfully against her back and his hands squeezed hers so hard the gun seemed to mold to her palms. 

“Shoot him.” he says intensely, and Eloise shakes her head.

“SHOOT HIM!” He screams, and Eloise lets out a whimper, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks up at Elijah.

He’s oddly calm. He manages a weak smile at her. “Lou, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No, no Eli. I can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t-” Eloise is a mess now, blubbering over her words not fully comprehending anything she’s saying.

“Lou, I want you to listen to me.” Elijah says. “Tell Dad I- I love him. Tell the team I love them.”

“No, NO ELIJAH!” Eloise screamed, her throat raw. Her shoulders shook with sobs.

“Lou, I love you, and I’m begging you please, pull the trigger.” Eli says. 

It’s okay he mouths.

Eloise has always had her brother in her life. From the first day of kindergarten, to their mother’s funeral, and the time she was being bullied by Gianna Nagoroski in the cafeteria and he had come up to her and “accidentally” bumped into her, effectively spilling his chocolate milk all over her white dress. Elijah was there when she got her period for the first time, and she was too scared to tell Dad, so he went to the gas station right by their house and bought her all of the neccessties she would need. Elijah was there on the nights when their Dad was out on a case and Eloise couldn’t sleep, the fear of the unknown about her Dad keeping her awake. Elijah was her slightly older brother, something he constantly reminded her of.

She couldn’t do life without him.

“Come ON! JUST DO IT!” The man snapped her out of her head, and she jumped.

It was a fear reflex, something that would have happened to anyone. Her body was already shaking and unstable, and the mans voice barking in her ear was the catalyst.

Her finger twitched.

Just slightly.

But it was enough.

She wasn’t prepared for the kickback, not even knowing her finger had twitched. Her shoulders hitched back into the man’s gut, but he barely moved, having been prepared for it. A loud bang ricochetted off of the walls.

Her brother slumped forward, crimson blood dripping down the leg of the chair. Everything was silent other than the echoes of the gunshot.

Elijah didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound.

Eloise didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

Eloise Reid had just shot her twin brother, Elijah Reid.

Shot her twin brother.

Shot.

Twin brother.

Elijah Reid.

“FBI!” 

The voice of Derek Morgan outside of the door didn’t even phase her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t tear her eyes away from her dead brother. The brother she had just killed. She hadn’t realized that the man had backed away from her, the gun left in her hands, useless now without any bullets. Her head spun, and the world became fuzzy.

The door was kicked down. The man put his hands up in surrender, letting Derek handcuff him. JJ followed him, her gun raised. Eloise watched as she rushed to her brother.

“I need EMTs in the building immedietaly!” She said into her ear piece, but Eloise didn’t hear her. 

Hotch came into the room, his gun also raised. He took in the scene around him. He was the first to notice that it was Eloise, not the man, who was holding the gun.

It fell from her hand, clattering to the floor. His attention turned to the door.

“Let me in, Hotch! They’re my kids!” 

It was her Dad.

“Trust me, Reid. You don’t want to go in.” he said. He was a father himself- he knew he couldn’t stop him from going in, but he also knew he wouldn’t have wanted to see what Spencer was about to see.

Spencer pushed his way past him. He saw Elijah first, bleeding out onto the floor. He yelled his name, running to him. JJ was kneeling beside him, trying to talk to him and get him to say anything. She looked up at Spencer, and then looked over to Eloise.

“Spence...”

He looked over to her. He was in front of her in a flash, holding her.

“I’m here now, Lou. I’m so sorry, I’m so- Eli’s gonna be okay, you’re safe now.” He soothed her, but she didn’t react. She continued to stare at her brother, who had not responded at all to JJ. 

“No.”

She said it so quietly, Spencer hadn’t heard it at first, and he slowly pulled away from her.

“No?”

“Dad...” she began. Just saying it pulled her out of her shock, and her chest began heaving.

“Dad, I shot him.”

“What?” Spencer asked, confused. Michael had surrendered immedietaly, and as far as he knew, he was uninjured.

“I shot Elijah, Dad. I killed him.”

The words didn’t compute at first as he pulled his arms away from her. 

His daughter had shot his son. His daughter had killed his son.

It finally clicked and he recoiled like he had touched something hot.

“You, you what?”

It wasn’t an angry question. He sounded broken, betrayed. It broke Eloise to her core.

Without another word, he walked out of the room.

“Dad, Dad wait! Dad!” Eloise called after him, but he didn’t respond. He walked out of the room, leaving his children behind, one bleeding out, and one crying so hard she could barely breathe.

[lgcjino]

FILE: 지노 _ PLOT CALL _ q4 —  this is totally late but we'd definitely like to plot and get things rolling if anyone still has some room on their trackers. below the cut are some suggestions / ideas to jumpstart a thread ! ◡̈

SUB: EVENT

⤷  RE: ACTING MISSION

new actor trainee, moon jino reporting for duty !

improv study — you overheard jino listening to a youtube video that's verbalizing improv cues, you just so happen to see him right when he's supposed to act out a demoralizing heartbreak or his personal interpretation of a fish out of water -- either or, both are equally as mortifying for him.

acting techniques — specifically the meisner technique: unfortunately for jino he got called on in class to counter react a partner's acting, you just so happened to notice jino, not so in his elemental, appearing quite obviously taken back by such a display. for lack of better word, it's hilarious and something that needs to be commented on after (or more amusingly, during) class.

any other acting mission ideas, welcome!

⤷  RE: LGC HALLOWEEN 2023

costume tbd he's going as jock spiderman ◡̈

jino didn't know the candies were fake — sure there were signs, but jino can't read 🤷‍♂️ — and now the candy is lodged in his throat and oh no, is he choking? nah — forcefully dispelling air through the tiny hole in his throat that's currently blocked by a pea-sized fake sweet treat is not choking, is it?

insert thread about costumes that i will update once i 100% narrow down jino's costume options

"i love you, i swear i do, but we're not wearing matching costumes."

idk much about the carpet but best believe jino is gonna will smith-jada moment whoever is beside him at that moment

any other halloween ideas, welcome!

⤷  RE: LGC RETREAT

he's in lgc agency as an actor but he got placed with crystallis !

ghost hunting at the haunted high school x excited puppy jino

jino 100% trying to do a hsm! scream parody of troy bolton along the lockers

running into jino on the way to the bathroom a la haikyuu boot camp jump scare w jino being backlit by the bathroom lighting and his tall ass frame he's practically a slenderman cosplay at night

jino standing in the back of the show me your face game ( mostly bc he's so tall and worried about blocking anyone ) until he realizes that's the point of the game and he's gonna be using his huge af hands to block out the faces of his fellow tall giants

jino 100% mingling and moving from table to table during lunch, also him trying to hand off his kiwis to people bc he doesn't like the fruit kiwi

him dumping flour all over the person behind him's head bc his arms are too long and his reach is too high and inadvertently covering them in flour 🤝 jino trying not to laugh as he tries to help them wipe their face w a wet towel after

SUB: GENERAL

⤷  RE: Q4 ( NEW TERM, NEW GENERAL THREADS ! )

"i really appreciate that you're getting into the halloween spirit, but it's ten in the morning. please turn off the slasher films so i can eat my breakfast in peace."

"what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!" — but rather than going door to door it's convenience store to convenience store and jino footing the bill on the sweet or salty treats 😋

"you're like the toughest person i know! am i really supposed to believe that a horror film is enough to have you cowering into my lap?"

"hot cocoa is the americano equivalent for kids!" "your point is?"

"how to look suspicious 101"

someone reporting jino for having a pet. the pet in question: link.

jino burning banana bread in the oven and someone comes over for banana bread but ... it's burnt ☹️

jino watched the greatest showman for the first time and now he won't stop singing rewrite the stars and someone needs to shut !!! him !!! up !!!

NOTE

⤷   also i'll be keeping any threads that are still being replied to ( except the lgc au threads ) no matter how old they are unless you'd like to drop and replot, please let me know if that's the case ◡̈

[kirimoochi]

the prince (2).

₊˚ ᗢ suna rintarou x figure skater! fem! reader.

⤷ [drabble] you finally enter inarizaki high.

“seriously? the prince is here?”

“where are they? i want an autograph!” 

“no way! what class are they in?”

you’ve heard many things about inarizaki high, but you would have never expected such a large crowd of students to greet you! they must have done this with every transfer, you thought. it's a special day for you then! your smile grew wide as you waved to several students. your coach had given you the green light to attend school again. after training for your free skate program for the last three months, she thought it would be a good opportunity for you to take a break. she figured you might be bored of doing continuous salchows. 

you turn every corner, peeking your head over the wave of students in search of a tall, dark-brown haired, fox-eyed boy. you gently push through the crowd, whining in frustration as you begin to feel lost at sea. there were so many students pouring out of classrooms. too many voices for you to keep track of. shifting your head off to the side, you can see your target just a few feet away. his obnoxious loud teammate had his arm around his neck, his twin pointing out with a disgusted expression about how mentaiko and pudding do not mix. as they bickered back and forth, you notice the thick kansai accent oozing off of their words, making suna’s speech stand out all the more to you. 

calling out his name, his head quickly faced you, his arms instinctively outstretched as he is met with a tight hug. you wrapped your legs around his torso, beaming brightly as you latch onto him like a koala. his eyes were wide as saucers, what were you doing here? last time you called, you said you’d be busy with your free skate. and yet now you were here, snuggling up to him as if there wasn’t a crowd. he sighs before patting your back, rolling his eyes to the whistles he heard from atsumu’s annoying lips. 

it’ll be one hell of a week for him. 

you knew that suna was failing physics, you just didn’t know it was this bad. on his paper were several red x’s, every other question had something wrong with it. he would do calculations where there were none or completely wrong calculations. your eye twitches a little when you notice he wrote down that a cardboard box weighed twelve hundred tons. in what world did he think this was right? pressing your lips together, you lightly hit the top of his head with his rolled-up test, causing him to lower his phone and stick out his tongue playfully. what an annoying guy! 

the boys’ volleyball team was more than stoked to meet you. after seeing your performance, they were hooked on asking you everything they wanted to know about figure skating. how does the point system work? how much did it cost to start the sport? but they’ll trail onto more personal questions: where did you find suna? how did you guys become friends? what was he like when he was a kid? you would answer all of them with a cheerful expression, much to suna’s horror and disbelief. you were sitting at the table, blabbering about how he used to be chased around by a kid who picked his nose, unknowingly feeding his well-kept secrets to the others. 

though, when he looks at the excited expression on your face, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you to stop. even when you talk about his stomach nearly exploding at the number of chuupets he ate as a kid, or the time he received a volleyball spike to the groin, none of it mattered. if anything, it makes it clear to the others that you were far out of their league. every part of your life had been in one way or another connected. whether it be phone calls at night, talking about the foods you ate or the countries you’ve visited, or his attempts at pigeon mail when he got his phone taken away, he and you were like soulmates. you knew him better than he did for himself, and you’d say the same.

while they are fighting with each other about the logistics of their ice skating, he slips his hand under the table, squeezing yours as you both turn to look at each other. a giggle escapes your lips as atsumu and osamu shake each other by their shoulders, arguing about something nonsensical. 

the next day, aran suggested that you try out volleyball, something you’ve expressed interest in after seeing them practice. suna groans as you tug him by his arm, dragging him onto the court with you. suna was begging you the other day to help him with a physics exam, something he’d never done until now. his efforts were washed away when the team captain showed up to say he had no exams that week. kita was kind enough to teach you the basic stance. guiding you to lower your body and hold out your forearms. you give osamu a thumbs up, signaling him to serve the ball. 

however, with atsumu’s relentless annoyance over not being able to serve first, osamu puts too much force into his serve. you instinctively flinch and close your eyes, hearing the slam of a ball. you see suna standing in front of you, with a very red forehead and bleeding nose. he sighs, whispering under his breath about how much he didn’t want you to play volleyball with the twins. 

osamu felt a shiver run down his spine as suna gave him a very frigid stare. an evident bulge forming in his neck. however, the anger that was building up in his chest quickly dissipated when you held onto his cheeks, wiping away at the blood with a handkerchief. you press your lips together in focus as you lightly brush away his hair. he can feel the surface of his face grow warmer as your breath hovers over his lips. 

everything will be fine, he thought, it was worth getting hit by the ball if he could see you like this.