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#sorry for being dead I’m sure you can guess why
prolitarart · 5 months
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Hellish Rebuke
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zeltqz · 4 months
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it girl | sanzu h.
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synopsis. you find sanzu after a fight at a party and end up introducing yourself and helping him patch up. turns out sanzu isn't as extroverted when it comes to speaking to girls, rindou finds out.
contains. smut, first time (sanzu's a virgin), nervous sanzu, bold reader, mentions of violence, busted lips, bruised knuckles, kantou!manji era, nude/explicit photos, oral (m), sanzu gets head for the first time, koko rindou and sanzu are best friends idc.
author's note. sanzu's so pretty but i just know that boy has never felt the touch of a woman, hence why i wrote this lmfao. call it a power move or whatever 🙄 (i wanna see more submissive sanzu honestly). fanart credits: caravaggist
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“My head is fucking killing me,” Sanzu said with a pained groan. He began coughing until he started laughing, running purely on adrenaline. “I beat that fucker’s ass, didja see that?!”
“Shut up, stop being so loud.” Sanzu winced when Rindou smacked him upside the head. He looked down at his busted, bruised knuckles and cursed. “We’re so fucking dead.”
“Told you not to drink that much,” Koko sniped, gesturing with his chin over at Sanzu. “Got us into a goddamn fight.”
“Not my fault you guys are such wimps.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Koko doubled over to catch his breath, slumping against a car. 
“Are you guys okay?” you called out, steadily approaching the three boys. 
Your heart nearly stopped when they all turned to meet your eyes, but there was one you couldn’t take your eyes off of the most. He had green eyes and crazy pink hair tied up into a ponytail. You’d been eyeing him for the majority of the party, just small glances over at whichever end he was loudly talking at. The entire time you had been taking extra shots for courage to approach him but pussied out each time. When you were upstairs, there was loud shouting, chanting, and the sound of things breaking as a group of boys managed to get into a fight. You didn’t see the full thing, only coming down the stairs the exact moment you saw the three of them run outside, tearing down the street and around the block in record time. A quick scan of the party, you saw the pink haired guy was no longer there, so your feet went running before you could even think of what you were doing.
He was much prettier up close, an ethereal kind of beauty you rarely ever see. Not many people can rock long pink hair but he manages to make it work well.
You ran out, taking off after them. It was a miracle you found them, having guessed which direction they must’ve took off in. 
“Who are you?” Kokonoi asked, looking strangely at you.
“I was at the party,” you gestured down the street, “and saw everything. Are you guys okay?” you repeated, walking a little closer to the group. 
Kokonoi’s hostility dropped down a few notches and he nodded. Rindou shrugged and rolled his neck, trying to ease away the stiffness residing in his bones. Sanzu, on the other hand, just stared at you dumbfoundedly. He didn’t say a word, just stared at you with half wide eyes that only widened when you met his gaze. You held eye contact for a few seconds before looking down at his knuckles. Out of the three, Sanzu was probably the most roughed up, having done the most the entire fight and caught the most strays. His lip was busted and his knuckles were bruised.
“Oh that looks really bad. One second,” you said, pulling out a tissue from your pocket “Can I?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He doesn’t say yes or no, and Rindou isn’t even sure he’s breathing anymore. He doesn’t stop you as you hold his bruised hand and lift it up to your face for examination. 
You placed the tissue onto his knuckles. “I’m sorry that happened by the way. I don’t know how it started but I’m sure you guys didn’t deserve it.”
Kokonoi snorted and Rindou elbows him roughly. “Eh it’s whatever. Bottom line is we won, so.”
“You guys shouldn’t be fighting like that though. Especially in public. The police got called and are probably on their way here.”
“Wait seriously?!” Kokonoi whipped his head up at you and you nodded. He cursed under his breath. “We better get going again. Don’t wanna have to get bailed out again.”
Again?
“True that,” Rindou agreed, dusting off his pants. His head was pounding and he might probably have a concussion, but all that didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get out of here. “Call Ran, he’ll come pick us up.”
“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Kokonoi replied.
“Better him than Mikey.”
“But—”
You tuned out the rest of their conversation and continued dabbing Sanzu’s knuckles, who still hadn’t said a single word since you approached. You blinked up at him and removed the bag from his hand. 
“Your lip is bleeding,” you announced, and he almost flinched away when your thumb rose to his lip. “Does it hurt?” He shook his head. “Can I put this on your lip?” You shook the tissue in your hand.
He nodded slowly and your smile nearly sent him straight to heaven. You pulled a water bottle from your purse and wet the tissue, pressing it on his lip and held onto his chin, tipping his head upright so you could see what you were doing better. Granted the tissue probably weren’t helping at all, but you had to work with what you had. 
“This looks really painful,” you murmured, fixated on the damages done to his face. He has these two pairs of twin scars on both sides of his mouth that you think are so cute. Without thinking, you let your thumb trace the diamond outline gently. You pull the tissue away from his lip and pocket it. “Does your lip hurt?”
Sanzu shook his head and you smiled. “That’s good.”
Rindou looked over at Sanzu weirdly, wondering why the loudest person in the group was suddenly so quiet. He didn’t have time to explore that train of thought deeper because Kokonoi spoke up.
“Rin, Sanzu. Ran’s on his way now. Let’s go.” He pocketed his phone and turned to you. “Thanks for the warning about the cops by the way. Really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem.”
A black car pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down. “You three are so fucking dead,” Ran said exasperatedly. 
“As long as Mikey doesn’t find out we’re goo—” Kokonoi’s relief came crumbling down as his biggest fear came to light. The passenger seat window rolled down and Mikey’s face came into view. He didn’t look mad, honestly he didn’t look like anything. Just emotionless, but that was enough to scare the absolute shit out of Koko. “Boss, we can explain—”
“Get in the car.”
Kokonoi swallowed but obliged, his feet dragging behind him as he walked around the car to get in.
You looked back over at Sanzu who’s eyes hadn't left yours. “Guess this is goodbye. I’m (Name) by the way. What’s yours?”
Whatever reaction anyone was expecting, it wasn’t for Sanzu to completely stammer over his words, forgetting who he was, or how to form a literate sentence. “Me name? Who is—I—what, huh?”
Rindou looked at him like he grew two heads, even Mikey raised a confused brow. You pressed your lips together in a thin line to stop yourself from laughing and Sanzu’s ears burnt with humiliation. Frankly he was mortified with those being the first words he’s said to you ever. Rindou thankfully saved him from more embarrassment by grabbing the back of his collar hard.
“His name is Sanzu by the way,” he told you before dragging him towards the car, kicking him into the backseat. The door slammed shut and you watched as Rindou entered the front next to his brother and then the car pulled off, recklessly rounding the corner.
You stayed there for a minute, blinking, then smiled giddily down at the floor before making your way back to your friends inside.
~*~
“Yeah they’ve definitely got a concussion,” the nurse said, snapping her gloves off. She stepped away from the three boys at the table and handed them each plastic cups of water. “Make sure you drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”
“Thanks doc.” Mikey wrote her a check and she nodded, thanking him before exiting the room. He looked at the three in them in disappointment. They each had an annoying habit of crashing random parties going on in the street and getting shit faced, then turning up to work and events hungover or too exhausted. Now they have hit the final nail in the coffin by getting in a physical altercation with strangers and the police are probably looking for their asses right now.
“I have nothing to say to you three. You heard the woman, get plenty of rest,” he scolded before leaving the room.
“Who wants to bet the medical bills are coming out of our paycheck?” Rindou asked, sliding off the table. He rubbed his head exhaustedly and yawned.
“I might just have a heart attack if I see that,” Kokonoi responded, shuddering.
“That girl…” Sanzu muttered under his breath, scratching his chin.
“What?”
“That girl,” he repeated louder as if he just came to a sudden realisation, “was a fucking angel!”
“Oh. Welcome back to earth Mr. Who me is name I what?” Rindou mocked, amusement written all over his face as Sanzu rolled his eyes.
Kokonoi laughed loudly. “Oh yeah! What the fuck was that all about?”
“Shut up,” Sanzu grumbled and closed his eyes, blocking their mockery out. He tried to picture your face again behind his closed lids but the concussion was slowly getting worse and your face was starting to fade from his memory. “I need to find this girl and redeem myself. What’s her name?” he said snipply, snapping his fingers at the two boys for them to hurry up.
“Stop being a weirdo. You probably blew your chances anyway,” Rindou stated.
“Nah uh! It wasn’t that bad!”
“Who me is name I what?” Kokonoi repeated and Sanzu groaned loudly.
“Keep making fun of me whatever! But when I find her and make her my future wife I don’t want to hear shit from any of you.”
“Wow,” Kokonoi fake gasped. “You can tell your future kids the story of how you met!”
“Future wife huh?” Rindou chuckled. “So we’re just skipping past girlfriend?”
“Gotta aim big.”
Kokonoi shook his head. “That girl wants nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah? Well why did she patch me up and not you two fucking idiots then? HUH?” Sanzu gestured to his busted lip. The two boys had nothing else to say and just rolled their eyes, muttering whatever under their breath. “Exactly, shut the fuck up.”
Sanzu traced his scars with his finger. He could still feel the gentle trail of your finger on his skin and closed his eyes once more, picturing you in front of him, staring up at him with such care in your eyes as you genuinely found yourself worried at his injuries. He looked down at his knuckles, still bruised, and pictured your hand in his. He regretted not saying more to you earlier, regretted not actually having a conversation with you and telling him his injuries looked worse than they actually felt.
Sanzu stood up and Rindou called out to him. “Oi. Where the hell are you going? We’re heading back to mines.”
“I’m going back to that party to redeem myself.”
“It’s been like an hour and it’s almost three am. She’s long gone. Let it go.”
Sanzu shook his head, condescendingly clicking his tongue in a way that ground Rindou’s gears. “Don’t be jealous Rin.”
“Jealous of?”
“I got a girl that wants me for me, not my dick.”
“That’s something only a virgin would say,” Kokonoi inputs, laughing when Sanzu instantly closes his mouth. “No way, are you actually a virgin?”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes you are!”
“I’m not!”
“Who’d you lose it to?”
Sanzu scoffs. “Like anyone remembers that,”
“Okay playboy.” Rindou laughs. “I remember mine.”
“So do I,” Kokonoi high fives Rindou. The two of them look at Sanzu. “Well? What’s her name?”
“I was high. Don’t remember,” Sanzu shrugs. Rindou looks over at Koko who both equally look unimpressed. “ANYWAY! It doesn’t matter because I’m going to find that girl and redeem myself tonight.”
Kakucho enters the room. “Find what girl?”
“Redeem yourself for what?” Kokonoi asks.
Rindou laughs even louder. “Redeem himself for “Oh friend who I am what?””
Sanzu’s ears burn when Koko joins in the laughter. “Alright so just forget my question. Cool,” Kakucho rolls his eyes.
“Sanzu got us into a fight tonight and some girl helped him with his busted lip and now he thinks he’s in love.”
“I don’t think—”
“We know,” Kokonoi interrupts.
Sanzu shoots him a glare. “If you’d let me finish,” he says snarkily. “I don’t think I'm in love. I know I am.”
“In love with a girl you don’t even know the name of?” Kakucho asks hesitantly. He should be used to this by now honestly, it's not the first time Sanzu got hyper fixated over something, except in this case it's someone. In actuality, he should be worried for this girl, knowing how obsessive Sanzu gets at times. Picturing the boy in a relationship was something Kakucho just could not do no matter how hard he tries.
“I’ll find her name. You forget who I am and what I do in this goddamn organisation?”
“Aside from dragging us to useless parties and getting us involved in unnecessary fights?” Rindou asked.
“You had fun tonight, stop acting like you hated it that bad,” Sanzu complained.
“What did this girl look like?” Kakucho asks.
Sanzu describes your appearance from your height all the way down to your eye colour, recounting to his friends every single detail he managed to observe about you the entire time he spent staring at you. They all looked at him with concern.  Sanzu noticed their glare and shrugged. “What?”
“Surprised you didn’t count every single lash of hers honestly,” Kokonoi rubbed his forehead exhaustedly when his head pounded again. “This headache is killing me. Gonna head home.”
They all said goodbye and waited for him to leave the room. 
“I think I know the girl,” Kakucho said, recounting the horrifying moment of Sanzu describing you in as much detail as possible. 
“WHAT?!” Sanzu exclaimed far too loudly for his head and Rindou’s to handle, a sharp pain shooting their heads. “Ah fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his head. 
“Are you serious?” Rindou asked, looking at Kakucho who nodded.
“Yeah. Someone like that lives on my floor. I see her leaving every morning.”
“To Kakucho’s we go!” Sanzu grinned, grabbing the younger boy's hand and dragging him outside. Rindou reluctantly follows behind them, wanting to see where this situation was heading. 
Kakucho ended up being right, and when they entered the lobby of his apartment, they saw you collecting your mail. Sanzu’s feet felt frozen to the floor as he just stared at your side profile. He almost had a stroke when you turned to face in his direction, and he swore you were looking directly at him when you broke out into a smile, waving your hand.
“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said and Sanzu was confused. It’s only been a few hours, hasn’t it? 
You were walking and he stood up a little straight when it looked like you were heading towards his direction, only for his heart to do a complete 360 when you hugged Kakucho instead. It wasn’t an affectionate hug, both your hands barely lingered on each other’s body, just an awkward side hug that lasted barely 2 seconds.
“Yeah, you know. I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”
“Ah cool cool. I’ve been collecting your mail though.” You handed him his mail. He thanked you and held them under his arm. 
You looked at two boys next to them and then gasped. “Oh its you!” You pointed between Sanzu and Rindou, who only nodded, asking how you’ve been. Sanzu was frozen again as you and Rindou gave each other basic small talk, only breaking out of his stupor when Rindou elbowed him hard in the stomach. 
You bit down a laugh when you saw Sanzu clutch onto his stomach in pain. “Oh my god, are you alright?” Sanzu could hear the laugh in your voice, but didn’t feel offended the slightest.
“I’m good, yeah. Just distracted.”
“Oh. Am I boring you?”
He was too scared of the fact you thought that about him to notice the playful hint in your voice. “No! Not at all. I just have a concussion that's all.”
“No way. Does it hurt? Are you okay?” You hesitantly lift your hand up and press it on his forehead which is burning up. “You need to get some sleep right now.”
“It’s too late to drive right now.” Kakucho says. “You two can just sleep at mine.”
“Only if I get your bed,” Sanzu adds.
“Fuck that. Sleep on the couch.”
“But I’m concussed.”
“And who’s goddamn fault is that?”
Sanzu rolled his eyes. Kakucho sighed. “Fine. You can get the bed.”
“Let’s fucking go,” Sanzu grinned and started heading towards the elevator. The other two boys followed them and Kakucho looked behind at you. 
“You coming?”
Sanzu pressed the button and turned to look at you and Kakucho as you shook your head. “No, I'm heading back out.”
“Right now?” Kakucho says and looks at his watch, “It’s almost 4 am?”
“I know,” you sigh exhaustedly. “My friend, well kinda friend, I guess wants me to come to his house. Just got his text a few minutes ago.”
“At this hour?” Kaku says sceptically.
“So a booty call?” Rindou says and gets elbowed by Kakucho, telling him to mind his business.
You laugh. “I guess if that's what you want to call it. I don’t sleep with him, he just uses me to impress his friends it feels like.” Your eyes slide over to Sanzu who has a scowl on his face and looks away almost immediately after you make eye contact. “I don’t wanna do it but he scares me so I feel like I have to.”
“What’s his name?” Kakucho asks.
“Why? You gonna hurt him?” you ask back. Though you and Kakucho are only neighbours at best, you’re well aware of what he does and his reputation around town. The Brawler is his nickname, or was, back when he was in Tenjiku. But you didn’t know what his role or job entailed, all you knew he was in some shady shit and you wanted no part of it. 
“Depends if I know the guy or not.”
You roll your eyes. “His name is Osanai.”
“Wait a minute,” Rindou says, “Is he tall? Smokes all the time, blonde hair? Kinda tan?”
“Yeah…” you say slowly, sceptically, “how’d you know?”
“We’ve actually been kinda looking for that guy. Mikey wanted to see him, didn't he?” Rindou asks Kakucho who shrugs and points over to Sanzu who’s been awfully quiet the entire time. “Didn’t he?” Rindou asks Sanzu again.
“Oh. Yes he has.” He looks up and meets your gaze one more time before looking away. 
“Where’s he at?” Rindou asks, approaching you.
“I dunno probably his house?”
“Okay but where genius.”
You give him Osanai’s address and he starts heading outside. “Wait! Don’t kill him or something.”
“Why do you care what we do? Doesn’t he scare you?”
“I mean yes but that doesnt mean I want him dead…”
Kakucho sighs. “Sanzu wait here with (y/n), me and Rindou will sort this out.”
Sanzu instantly looks at Kakucho. “Wait—”
“Just do it,” Rindou snickers before the two of them leave. Sanzu watches them go with a betrayed look on his face, already thinking of 101 different ways to kill Rindou once he got back home.  You look up at Sanzu and smile at him.
“So…you can go home if you want. I don't need a babysitter.”
“No it's fine I'll uh wait here.”
“We can go back to mine?” you ask a little hopeful.
Sanzu opens his mouth to speak but the words can't seem to come out. He resorts to nodding and you smile, taking his hand in yours and walking up to your apartment. 
~*~
Three hours in and you’ve been binging shitty movies together, laughing at the bad plot and horribly written characters. When you first saw Sanzu at the party, he was outgoing and the life of the room honestly. Maybe your opinion is a bit biased because you were focused on nothing but him, but he had this energy that attracted you to him. Now, in front of you, he’s nothing like he was a few hours ago, he seems shy and reserved, keeping to himself but he’s still funny and cracks a few jokes that make you cackle every now and then.
“Wait you got a little, i’ll get it for you,” you say, cupping his chin and turning his face to you. He watches you with wide eyes as your thumb comes up to his lip and wipes some tomato sauce off. you make continuous eye contact with him as you bring your thumb to your mouth and lick the sauce off the tip. Then, you almost give the guy a heart attack when you go back in with your wet thumb and wipe the remnants of the sauce on the corner of his mouth. 
His pizza flops in his hand and something else rises in his pants as you pull back, sitting reasonably closer than you did before, resting your head on his shoulder, continuing to watch the movie. It’s hard for him to even focus on the TV with you sitting this close to him right now. He can smell your shampoo, your perfume, can feel your body heat warming him up and he’s actually going to pass out if you continue clinging to his arm like that. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat a little, hoping his boner goes down and praying you don’t see it. 
Just to be on the safe side, he nonchalantly grabs a couch cushion and places it on his lap, claiming he's cold. You don’t buy it one bit but only smirk at the hidden implications. You let out a fake yawn and shift even closer to him, bringing your feet onto the couch, shifting into a lying position. 
You look up at Sanzu and smile slightly. “Is this okay with you?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.
“Y-yea. It's fine. cool.” He swallows thickly and turns to look back at the TV.
The cushion gets in the way and you click your tongue, sitting upright and almost bashing him in the jaw with your head. You toss the cushion away and Sanzu's about to protest before you lay back down, your head only inches away from his crotch. His erection was going down slowly but now it might as well sprung back up. 
“Oh wait a second,” you said, sitting upright and Sanzu almost panicked when you pointed down at his crotch. “You okay?”
“I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it's fine,” you laugh. “These things are uncontrollable, I know.” Sanzu sighs in relief. “Do you need any help?” you ask and he blinks at you.
“What?”
“Nevermind,” you clear your throat. “That was a dumb question.”
“No wait!” he says abruptly, making you jump. “I mean, yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?” you perk up a little. 
“Yeah I guess.”
You move to sit next to him, your head only inches away from his. “This is gonna sound a bit creepy but,” your eyes drop to his lips, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you say absentmindedly, distracted as you ran your finger over his scars. “Thought you were so pretty.”
“Pretty…?”
“Yeah, you’re really pretty Sanzu.”
He bites his lip, fighting the urge to look away from your intense eyes in the dark. You’re leaning in closer and his eyes close and then he feels your lips pressing against his. It starts off with short pecks that linger a little too long before you're actively moving your lips against his. Your hand cups his face and you pull him closer, sucking on his lips and entering your tongue into his mouth. He moans softly when your fingers find their way to his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.
You pull away and plaster kisses to his neck, gently pushing him down onto the couch, your body basically straddling him as you kiss down his throat.
His body feels hot and he can't focus anywhere  but your lips going down his body. Your fingers grab the seam of his shirt and your lips tickle against his skin as you mutter, “Take this off.”
He obediently does as he’s told and lifts his arms up as you help him remove the shirt. You toss it on the other couch and sit upright to examine his chest. His abs were faint but visibly and you bit your lip, running your finger along his chest.
He stares up at you as you look distracted at the sight of his bare chest. You make eye contact and smirk a little before lifting your shirt up and over your head. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in your bra. You go back down and kiss down his stomach, fingers moving to unzip his jeans and pull them down.
“Wait wait wait!” You freeze and look up at the boy in front of you, tilting your head in confusion. He swallows thickly. “I haven't…done this before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Shocking, I know.”
“Oh. It really is. I thought girls would be all over a guy like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I said before, you’re really pretty Sanzu.” He instantly looks away and you laugh. “You’re shyer than I expected Sanzu. At the party you were really loud and stuff, I didn't expect this. It’s cute.”
“I’m not shy.”
“You said less than 100 words to me tonight and we’ve been hanging out for almost four hours.”
“...”
You laugh and sit upright, leaning back in to kiss him. “Do you still want me to…” Your fingers trail down his body, rubbing the outline of his cock in his briefs.
“If you want to.”
“I obviously do, that's why I'm asking you.”
“Sure then.”
You give him one last kiss before settling back between his lips. His cock has never felt more sensitive than in this moment when your fingers wrap around his cock, pulling it free from his boxers. It stands tall against your face and you lick the tip, not ceasing eye contact. He feels obligated to watch you suck his cock and desperately wants to look away because he knows he will bust in less than ten seconds if you keep staring at him like that.
You take him in your mouth and he moans so loudly, the sound soft and heavenly. You smile around him and begin to suction your cheeks as you take him lower. Your tongue swirled around his shaft every time you bobbed. He was throbbing inside you, your heavy eye contact and warm mouth making him grow harder.
He finally broke the eye contact to throw his head back, a long groan of “fuccccckkkkkkk,” leaving his mouth as he placed his hand on your head, bobbing you up and down. You moaned when his hips bucked up into you.
You pull off his cock and jerk him off, his words dying in his throat when he feels your tongue lick his balls, sucking gently on them.
He sits up and holds the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp as he pants heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on pleasuring him, putting your mouth back onto his cock and taking him deeper than you did before, your fingers gently massaging his balls.
“I’m gonna—fuck, i’m coming,” he groans and without warning holds the back of your head, pressing you down and came inside your throat. 
Honestly you were shocked he lasted this long. Your body felt so warm and hot hearing his pretty moans, and the sight of him with his mouth open, head thrown back was something you’d never forget. His grip on your head ceased and you pulled off his cock, eyes teary and watery and mouth full of cum.
“Oh shit,” he mutters, watching you take a minute before swallowing. His dick twitches again. Without thinking, his thumb comes up to the corner of your lip and wipes a stray drop of cum. Before he can remove his thumb, your head turns and you suck the tip of it. “You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you,” he groans and you giggle around his thumb.
“Are you a virgin too if you’d never gotten head before?” 
He nods shamefully and you can’t help but kiss him again. “Want me to take it?” you ask, forehead resting against his.
He blinks at you before not-so-subtly dropping his eyes down to your cleavage. “yeah.”
You grin and push him back down onto his back, slipping off the couch. He watches you strip down naked, your bra and panties are tossed to the opposite couch. Thanks to the help of the tv, your body is still a shadow but the outline of your body makes him instantly hard again. You climb back on top of him.
His hands migrate to your hips, and with absolutely zero confidence with what he’s doing, his hand slides towards your clit and you gasp when his thumb snakes its way to your folds. “You’re really wet.”
You squirm, slightly embarrassed but bite your lip, amusement in your voice as you say, “Yeah…that’s supposed to happen.”
“I know that,” he grumbles, still rubbing your clit in circles, wetting his fingers with your arousal. “I’m not an idiot.”
He pulls his hand away and you grab his wrist, guiding his finger into his mouth, watching him suck your juices off his fingers. “God that’s hot,” you pull his fingers out and lean back down to kiss him.
“I'm going to get condoms,” you say against his lips before pulling away. He nods and watches you head down the hallway when his phone buzzes. 
rindou: we found osanai so we’re heading back right now
sanzu: hell no just go home 
rindou: ???? walk home then tf
sanzu: don't think that's an issue honestly think i might be sleeping over if you know what i mean ;)
rindou: what? you’re getting laid? YEAH RIGHT
sanzu: IM NOT LYING
rindou: i never once ever in my entire life found you funny but you’re telling some good jokes right now
sanzu: 1) im always funny, 2) im serious.  i would send you proof but then you’d see my dick and thats gross
rindou: would rather bleach my eyeballs honestly. you could barely look this girl in the eye and you really expect me to believe you’re fucking her?
“I’m back!” you call out making sanzu jump. “What’re you doing on your phone?” you ask, snatching it from his hands and reading the messages. 
It’s a miracle it’s dark right now because Sanzu doesn’t know what he’ll do if you saw him blushing from embarrassment right now.
“He’s fucking rude. Why doesn’t he believe you?” you huff, handing him his phone back before your face lights up. “Wanna show him?”
“Show him what…” He hopes you’re not heading in the direction you’re so obviously going. 
“You know what I mean, c’mere.” You sit back against the couch and pull up the camera app on his phone. You hold the phone out in front of you, “Stick your tongue out.” 
He does so and you stick yours out also, just barely grazing his as you snap a bunch of pictures. You take a couple more in different poses, putting your lips in a kissy face and kissing his cheek, his lips and resting your forehead against his as you smile at the camera. 
You sit upright and scroll through the photos, smiling at each of them. “Send these to me after yeah.” You toss the phone behind you and rip open the condom. You reach behind you and slip it easily down his shaft before aligning it with your pussy. “Ready?”
“Yeah…” The tip nudges your clit before slipping inside, warm heat instantly engulfing the tip of his cock and his mouth falls open, panting breathily as you continue sinking downwards, watching the pleasured look on your face as your pussy squelches trying to accommodate his entire length.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, fixing your hands onto his chest for support. You bounce experimentally, ripping another moan from your throat it sinks you a little lower. 
“Shit, shit—wait,” He digs his nails into the fat of your ass cushioned against his thighs.
“Sanzu,” you moan, collapsing down onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He can hear your breathy pants beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
“You feel so fucking good,” He huffs against your ear and you sit upright, pushing your arms behind you to his knees and start swiveling your hips in circles that turn to full on bouncing on his cock. 
His eyes are focused on your tits that swing in motion with your movements and he can’t help but lift you up and down on his cock. “Fuck,” He gropes and squeezes your cheeks as you whimper, clenching around his cock with every bounce.
“Touch me please,” you whimper, looking down at him, grabbing one of his hands and bringing them up to your tits. He squeezes it and runs his thumb along your nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body, giving you more motivation to continue bouncing.
“Wait, slow down— oh fuck.” His body was tense, and you were sure he was leaving fingernail shaped dent marks on your hip with how tight his grip was. His cock felt so good, having a slight tilt to it that hit that spot no other guy had been able to reach. You couldn’t stop bouncing, his words falling on deaf ears.
“Wait wait wait stop,” he gasped, his grip getting tighter, bringing you to a stop. Wasting no time, you lean back down and begin kissing along his jaw as he catches his breath, impatiently wiggling your hips just to feel something. “I just came,” he admitted.
You froze and shot up, looking down at him. “For real?” he nodded, wiping a shameful hand over his face. “That's so cute,” you giggle and kiss him. 
You lifted yourself up and off his cock and laid down on top of him. “Did you like it?” you ask, tracing your finger along his chest.
“Yeah, it felt so good.”
“Yay,” you smiled bashfully.
“You didn’t finish though.”
“Eh it's not a big deal. I wanted to make you feel good.”
“Still though…” he mutters, pouting at the fact he didn’t make you feel as good as he felt. 
His phone buzzed and he sat upright to grab it. 
rindou: having fun loverboy??? u busy humping her pillow to text me back? asshole
Sanzu scoffs and you lean your head against his shoulder and read the messages. “Send him the photos.”
He turns to look at you, your lips almost brushing against his in the process. “You sure? You’re kinda naked in them.”
“I don't really care. It’s just a boob. You can crop it out if you’re that worried.”
“Okay…” He crops your chest out of the photo and stares down at the photos once more. He's never deleting these. He sends three different photos to Rindou, not even bothering to caption them and turns his phone off, waiting for his response.
“Oh wait! Gimme your phone!” You hold your hand out as he hands it to you. 
“What’re you doing?”
“Adding my number,” you hum and add your number to his contacts, adding a heart after his name. You’re never usually this forward, but you knew you wanted Sanzu from the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let him slip away. “Call me when you get home. okay?” Your forehead brushes against his and your eyes dart down to his lips, fighting the urge to kiss them.
“Okay.”
You give into temptation and kiss him slowly. Your thumbs traced along his jawline as you hum, almost lazily enticing your tongue with his. His hands ran teasingly along your body, cupping your ass and pulling you back on top of him.
The doorbell rang and you sat upright, cursing under your breath. “I’ll get it.” You press one more kiss to his lips and slip off the couch to re-dress. Your shirt was backwards and your pants were inside out, but you didn’t care as you answered the door with a cheery, “yes?”
Kakucho rubbed his forehead with a world heavy sigh and you instantly felt all colour drain from your face. He was with Rindou and probably saw the photos. “How can I help you Kaku?”
“Just…just tell Sanzu to come on, let’s go.”
Sanzu appears behind you,redressed, and gives you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your form for much longer than Kakucho considered friendly. You pull away and whisper in his ear for him to call you when he gets home. He nods and you plant another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Sanzu is about to deepen the kiss before Kakucho grabs him by the back of his shirt and tugs him out of your apartment. 
1K notes · View notes
btsugarush · 6 months
Text
GANGSTA | myg - 004
summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.
pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader
warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.
word count: 3.5K
authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.
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“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.
You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.
Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”
You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”
You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”
Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”
You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”
You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’
“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”
Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”
Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”
“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”
You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”
Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”
You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”
“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”
“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.
“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?
You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”
The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.
Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”
You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.
“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”
You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.
You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.
You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”
How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.
So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.
“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.
“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.
“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.
“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”
“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”
Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”
Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”
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“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”
You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.
You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.
You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.
It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”
“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”
“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”
“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”
“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.
Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.
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“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.
“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.
“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.
“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.
“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.
“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”
“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”
“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”
“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”
“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.
“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”
“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.
“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”
“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”
You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?
“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.
“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”
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1K notes · View notes
kinopio-writes · 2 months
Note
Hello dearie!!
How are you? I hope you're doing well!
I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!
Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?
The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.
They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.
Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?
I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3
Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!
Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!
Stay proud!
-Nina <33
A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).
Warnings: Mentions of death
———
Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child
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Alastor
• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse
• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway
• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”
• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by
• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”
• “But what about my mother?”
• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”
• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel
• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)
• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in
• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest
• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech
• and you’re so well-behaved, too
• up until he leaves your sight
• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that
• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell
• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down
• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother
• even when you talk about her a lot
• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything
• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her
• but, hey, at least he listens!
• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…
———
Husk
• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother
• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him
• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother
• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child
• so he took you in
• “But what about my mother?”
• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”
• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc
• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother
• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason
• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough
• only if you were asking him about her though
• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask
• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18
• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day
• the man in question sighed
• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day
• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”
• “Oh…”
• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”
• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”
• he smiled back
• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence
———
Vox
• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)
• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)
• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children
• but he’s a pretty busy guy
• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras
• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his
• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around
• but only around the other expendable employees
• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you
• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you
• they aren’t exactly good with children
• so he tried doing video calls
• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid
• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls
• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen
• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)
• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question
• skillfully
• like, extremely so
• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow
• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—
538 notes · View notes
hitlikehammers · 3 months
Text
to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)
rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending
for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)
this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️
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“Oh fuck, not you, too.”
Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—
“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.
“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“
“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—
He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.
That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.
“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.
But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.
He swallows anyway; not that it helps.
“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—
“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”
Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.
But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.
“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.
“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.
“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.
“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:
Not you.
“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.
He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.
“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.
Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.
“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:
“That you’re here, too.”
And, oh. Okay.
Okay.
They’re here, then. Together.
Here.
___________________
It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.
They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.
For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.
He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?
Who’s gonna fucking know?
Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.
He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.
He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.
He craves this.
He doesn’t know what that fucking means.
But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.
And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.
But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…
Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:
That’s not death.
___________________
Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—
Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.
Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.
He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—
“What the fuck?”
Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.
Doesn’t change his question.
Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.
“Where the hell did those come from?”
Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”
Steve gapes a little.
“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck
“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.
Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:
“Pick your poison.”
And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…
“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:
“Go Fish?”
And Steve, he, like—
This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.
He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…
In a while.
___________________
“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.
“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.
They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.
“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:
“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:
“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.
They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.
“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“
“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.
“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—
Steve likes how they fit.
“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”
Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.
___________________
“You’re really good company.”
Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.
“What?”
Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.
“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”
Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.
“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”
And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:
“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:
“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.
And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:
“Me too, sweetheart.”
And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:
not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—
___________________
Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.
He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…
It’s not just his smile.
“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.
“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.
“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—
“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?
Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…
That feels more
___________________
It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.
“You called me big boy.”
Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.
His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.
Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—
“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”
Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.
“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—
“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—
“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.
“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—
“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.
Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.
But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.
“You’re not stupid, Steve.”
Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.
“I’m very stupid.”
And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?
And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.
“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:
“About, you know, matters of the heart.”
Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:
“Heart?”
But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:
He thinks he can hear the hope.
“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.
“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—
“And kiss me, you dick.”
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—
“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.
“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”
Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.
“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.
“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?
Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?
Fuck. Fuck.
If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.
___________________
He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.
The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.
Steve fucking hates it.
“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.
“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.
He cannot fucking accept that.
“I don’t want you to die at all.”
Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—
“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—
“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.
“Maybe we’ll wake up.”
Maybe. Maybe.
“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:
“Kiss me again when we wake up.”
And Steve will, he will, but.
He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.
He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.
So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…
Whatever happens will take them both.
___________________
Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—
“Eddie!”
He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—
And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.
Covers his hands. Presses.
And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—
“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—
There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.
“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:
“That the only reason?”
He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—
Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—
Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:
“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:
not-dead, not-dead, not-dead
in-love, in-love, in-love—
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tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 
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futterurl · 6 months
Note
Hello! I absolutely love the future man writings you’ve done and wanted to request smut for josh futturman. I can just imagine for his first time getting intimate with a partner he just gets so overly eager that he ends up overstimulating himself and his partner hehe
sry ive been gone for a bit schools been kicking my ass ! anyways yeah i got a little carried away sry if this isnt what u rlly had in mind
WARNINGS: fem!reader, titplay, oral(f!receiving), virgin!josh, p in v, creampie, super soft
- - - - - - - - -
it had been a nice day, going out and spending the day with your boyfriend, josh. you two were sat in your apartment, watching a movie, him holding you in his arms while a bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. his hand held onto your forearm, rubbing back and forth lightly with his thumb.
you loved days like this. you loved your boyfriend. he was the sweetest guy you had ever met, and boy were you glad he was yours. he would constantly try to spend time with you, and would try to teach you about the video games that he played. you always looked up to him.
and to him? lord, you were a goddess. you were this kickass woman who was one of his well respected co-workers, you had such a beautiful personality, and you were drop dead gorgeous to him. he fell in love with you all over again whenever he looked at you.
you both tool each other in with your worries and guilts. he knew that you were more shy, and he did a majority of the talking in public, and wouldn’t try to pressure you with anything. he was so kind to you, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.
while you guys were snuggled up, you started to talk over the movie, not paying it much attention. just talking about funny stories that happened in the past.
“…and she caught me. jacking off. in my room. it was the worst thing ever.” josh was telling the unfortunate story of his poor mother just trying to bring him something, but seeing that mess instead. you couldn’t help but laugh.
“god, if that kinda stuff happened to me, i swear, i’d never look anyone in the eyes again.” you laughed.
“this is a random question, and sorry if it’s intrusive, but…have you ever had…like, sex before?” he asked you, sitting up on the couch so he could look you in your eyes.
you shifted, not used to being asked this question. “i…i have. once. it was a mistake. i don’t know why i did it.”
he started to look a little worried. “did he make you do that?” hoping it wasn’t that.
“oh, no! no! don’t worry, i was fine with it.” you reassured him. “i just…regret it, was all. it wasn’t all that good, just a heat of the moment thing, wanting to do it. we fucked, he came, and that was that. nothing special.”
“did he uh…did he make you…y’know…” he tried to ask in the most not awkward way possible, which was still very awkward.
“make me cum? uh, no. it wasn’t…wasn’t really a priority, i guess. just the experience.” you started to fidget with your hands.
“that’s…yeesh, that’s kinda fucked.” he was a little irritated. was it that difficult to focus on a girl for a few minutes to make her feel good? he didn’t understand it. “i’m sorry it wasn’t good. i just don’t get how he could finish and not care that you didn’t.”
“it’s fine. i don’t really care that much.” you were still a tad bit upset over it, but he was out of your life now. you didn’t have to worry shout him, only being in your happiest relationship yet with josh.
“what about you?” you asked him, curious.
“me? oh, uh, this is kinda sad, but i…haven’t done that kinda stuff.” he started. “it just never kinda…happened. moment was never really right. but now i’m here, with you. i couldn’t be happier.” he hugged you, kissing your jaw.
you rubbed the back of his head. you loved this man more than words could describe.
“i don’t know how to ask this in a way that isn’t awkward, but i’m just gonna go ahead…would you mind if i…if i, uh, made you…you cum?” he asked, looking at you.
you looked at him. “a-are you sure? you don’t have to if you feel bad or anything like that, it’s not your obligation to-”
he cut you off, holding your hands in his. “i…i want to do this. it’s not out of sadness or anger for you…”
you gave him an inquisitive stare.
“okay, maybe it is a little bit.” he admitted. “but i really do wanna do this. i’ve wanted to do this with you…for a little bit now, but i didn’t know how to ask, or bring it up. you feeling good makes me happy.”
it was like he was trying to make you fall in love again and again.
“josh, that’s really sweet…i…i do think i may be ready to try this stuff out with you.” you started to get a little shy.
“okay…okay…great.” he tried to hype himself up, telling himself that it’s real and this was happening. “just, uh, tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything like that, and we can stop, go back to watching the movie, no questions asked, okay?”
you smiled, knowing he was your safe place. “thank you so much.” you gave him a kiss on his lips. he went and deepened the kiss, holding your frame in his arms.
you made out, him slowly getting on top of you, laying you in the couch. his hands went from holding your body to feeling around: touching your hips, your waist, your breasts, everything. he gently caressed one of your breasts, to which you let a moan out at.
“did you like that?” he asked.
you nodded, pulling your shirt up. “please.” you yanked it off your body. he stared at you with awe, your breasts clad with a bra. you looked so beautiful to him.
“can i…can i take this off?” he asked, fingers playing with your bra. you nodded, reaching back and unclasping it.
“how the hell do you unclasp that so easily?” he discarded your bra, asking while staring at your bare breasts.
“lots of practice, i guess. you get used to it after wearing these since the ripe age of 13.” you giggled.
his hand moved towards your breasts, but hesitated. he didn’t want to squeeze them too tight, or hurt you.
“you can touch then, josh. it’s okay. please. i want you to.” you reassured him, guiding his hand to gently caress your left tit. he played with it, new to the sense of it.
“it’s so soft…” his thumb ran over your nipple, causing you to shudder. he could tell you liked that.
“do you think i could…suck on them?” he asked, testing the waters. you nodded your head slowly.
“yes, please. whatever you like.”
“this is about you, though, not me. i want this to feel good for you.” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. sure, he was getting very caught up in the moment, but he knew he ultimately wanted you to have a good takeaway from this: you were someone he loved so much, he wanted to watch and make you feel good.
“josh, i want you to do this, don’t worry.” you smiled at him. he was so careful with you, it made you feel so delicate. so special.
he leaned his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his lips wrapped around it while his tongue ran over it.
you ran your fingers through his hair. you had thought he’d be a boob guy, and this for sure proved it. he loved feeling them, the texture so foreign to him.
he moved on to the other breast, suckling onto your other nipple, to which you let out a gasp at. it felt…good.
he played with your other breast in his hand, giving it gentle squeezes. you let out a hushed moan. you didn’t think it’d feel good.
his head lifted up, kissing you again. it was a deep kiss, his hand digging to play with the hem of your pants.
“please, wanna make you feel good down there.” he pleaded, looking at you for permission.
you had never been like this before. someone focusing on you felt…unbelievable. it really did.
you nodded, unzipping your pants. “please, josh, want this so bad. want you so bad.”
he lifted your hips up, helping you shimmy out of your pants and panties. you were there, completely bare in front of him. he took his shirt off, trying to make you feel more comfortable. he stared at you with awe.
he couldn’t believe you were with him. you were so beautiful, and had an even better personality. he couldn’t believe that you loved him, and that you were willing to do this with him. he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.
“is this okay?” he asked, lowering himself, his head in between your legs. he rubbed your thighs, trying to help you stay comfortable. he could see your slick. he wanted to get a taste so badly.
“yes, please josh. please.” you wailed.
he obliged, taking a long lick up your slit.
“oh, fuck…” you moaned. loud. you hadn’t ever felt that good before.
“you okay?” he asked, making sure he didn’t do something wrong.
“i’m great, just felt really fucking good…holy shit.” you looked down at the sight of him, in between your thighs.
he dipped in again, this time bringing his tongue to lay flat on your clit. you shuddered, feeling all sorts of sensations. he held your hips steady, running his tongue in tight circles around your clit.
you swore to god, you could hear him groaning into your cunt. he was letting out little noises in exasperation as he pleasured you, rubbing your clit with his tongue, getting into a rhythm.
“jesus christ, josh, i’ve never felt so good, fuck…” you could barely get the words out in between moans.
he licked another stripe down your slit and ran his tongue on your entrance. you tugged at his hair a big, cautious yet excited to see where this was gonna go.
his tongue slowly crept inside of you, feeling around as you scratched at his scalp, letting little whimpers out. he held tightly onto your thigh as he started to tongue fuck you.
you threw your head back in pure ecstasy. you were starting to get close.
“josh…g’na come soon…fuck…” you panted out.
“please.” he said, moving his mouth up and tasting you all over. “do it f’ me. come on my face. please. you’re so hot. fuck. come all over me.”
he moved his mouth and latched onto your clit again. from there, he just sucked. your orgasm approached.
you let out a cry as your hips started to spasm ever so slightly, your body contorting. josh continued to suckle on your clit while you rode out your orgasm.
“oh my god…” you breathed. “how are you so fucking good at that?”
he lifted his head up, mouth coated in your cum. “don’t know. just pure talent i guess.”
you lightly pushed him. “fuck you.”
“i mean, if you’d be ever so kind.”
you looked at him, starting to laugh, but understanding what he wanted: you.
you moved yourself closer to him, closing the space in between you two.
“please.” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “i..i think i’m ready for this. fuck me, josh. please.”
“fuck, i’m so fucking hard for you right now, holy shit.” he kissed you, lying you back down on the couch. he pulled his pants down, huge erection standing up in his underwear.
“do you see how crazy you make me? you’re so perfect.” he looked down as he slowly started to take off his underwear, cock standing out.
you blushed. even in situations like this, he still made you feel so special.
he got on top of you, cock springing out, almost touching your delicate folds. you shuddered.
“a-are you sure you wanna do this, josh?” you asked him. doing something like this for the first time was really important to you, so you hoped you could make it important to him.
“yes, there’s no one i’d rather do this with than you.” he kissed you softly, sliding his cock through your slit, bumping his tip to your clit. you both groaned lightly.
“i…i’m gonna put it in now…okay?” he asked for permission.
you smiled. “yes. please.”
he used one of his hands to steady himself and his other one to hold yours as he slowly pushed inside of you. he was feeling all sorts of new sensations, all good like he’d never felt before. your walls clenched around him. he let out a moan as he slowly inched himself inside you.
you held his hand, gripping it tight. it had been awhile since you’d done this. it was a big stretch, but it felt so damn good to have him inside of you.
he finally bottomed out, cupping your cheek. “you’re so tight…oh my god…i knew it’d feel good but…didn’t expect this…” he was breathing heavily, catching up with his senses. he felt like he was going to cum just from being in you.
“josh, want you t’ start moving.” you pleaded, feeling so full but desperate for friction.
he obliged, giving experimental thrusts and letting out low groans in the process. your tight walls kept sucking him in, as if they didn’t want him to pull out.
“fuck, you feel so good. i love you so much.” he started to thrust a bit faster now, hands on your hips, holding you steady. every time his hips met yours you could feel yourself groan with delight. even though this was his first time, he wanted to take care of you.
he started to thrust hard, moaning sweet nothings into the room. every word he said professed his love for you and your body.
one thrust in particular hit a certain part inside you that made you let out a really high-pitched moan. he stopped, looking at you.
“shit, you okay?” he asked.
“yeah, m’ fine, that just felt really good.” you gave him a smile.
he tried to angle his hips to hit that sensitive spot again, which he was successful with after a few harsh thrusts. he abused that sweet spot with every thrust, leaving you a moaning mess. he took your lips into his, kissing you like your lives depended on it.
“josh, close, shit.” you could barely form words with how good you felt.
“me too, gonna cum, fuck.” he started to move incredibly fast, moving like there was no tomorrow. “please, cum on my cock.”
you could feel the knot on your stomach start to snap, riding out your orgasm. you were letting out these pornographic moans that were driving him insane, leading him to cum right after you did.
but he didn’t stop.
“feel too damn good. can’t stop. shit.” he continued his quick and deep thrusts, leaving you screaming.
“josh, can’t. already came. oh my god.” you were a moaning mess, feeling his cock penetrating your tight walls right after having an earth shattering orgasm.
“please, need you to cum again. wanna make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.” he moaned, trying to hit that spot inside you with every single thrust, making himself feel overstimulated in the process.
you felt another orgasm start to bubble up inside you as he kept going. the knot snapped yet again when he led his hand to your clit, rubbing it in circles with his thumb.
“cum for me, please. cum. wanna make you feel good. please. need you to cum on my cock again. i’ll do anything.” he begged and pleaded, bot stopping his aggression to your cunt.
you were practically screaming, head thrown back and breathing like a madman. he helped you ride through your orgasm, him taking a few extra seconds to reach his own again, as well.
he eventually stopped, laying on you carefully as to not hurt you.
“sorry, got…got a little carried away.” he said in between breaths. he felt so woozy.
“no, it felt really good josh. thank you.” you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as he lay on top of you.
“was it that good?” he asked, making sure you got as much satisfaction as he did.
“i’ve never felt that good in my life. serious.” you replied. he knew how to make you feel special and really good. “you’re amazing.”
he held you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “i hope you know how much you mean to me. i love you so much, and i wanna be with you forever.”
you were practically gushing. he was so darn cute. “i love you more.”
460 notes · View notes
jazzyoranges · 8 months
Text
Birthdays and Stress
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: Tara meets some of your family during your father’s birthday
Words: 3.4k
A/n: i haven’t written fanfiction since 2020 so please proceed with a little caution 🌚
Warnings(?): fluff, mentions of sex, very tiny hurt/comfort
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You had a big family
Like a really big family
Tara didn’t have the pleasure of having a family like yours. You were close with your cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and everyone else in between. While Tara on the other hand can barely remember her dad’s face, she tries to forget her mom’s, and her sister left due to personal issues. Granted, her sister did come back
Shaking her head, she had to push these thoughts to the back of her mind. Instead Tara had to focus on her rapidly beating heart and the internal screaming at the fact your entire family was only about 5 minutes away
Tara wanted to make a good impression. An amazing impression, that is. But what if your family knew she was related to the Woodsboro killings? What if they knew her sister was related to the very cause of the Ghostface killings? Would they kick her out? Deem her not good enough for you? What if they called her a liability and then kicked her out? This really was a bad idea, why did she agree to doing this?
“Tara, I love you with all my heart. I promise my family won’t throw you out of the house.” You rested a hand on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb just how she liked it
Perhaps her internal screaming hadn’t been so internal
“Oh, but what if they do, babe? What then? They’re gonna hate me.” the shorter girl groaned, throwing her head back and covering her face in annoyance
“Tara I’m literally so madly in love with you. They’re going to love you, baby. There’s not a universe out there where they don’t absolutely adore you like I do.” you say seriously, taking her left hand in yours and bringing it up to your face to give her knuckles a feather-light kiss
Tara pouts. A very childish pout, that is
“When you realize I’m right, I will happily say I told you so tomorrow.”
“…You promise they’ll like me?”
“I pinky promise, baby.”
Tara loved that about you. Only do you swear by your pinky during very serious times, almost as if you were swearing upon the river Styx. Never once have you broken one of your pinky promises, and Tara found it utterly adorable. You turned something kids would do under the playground slide into a life-bound oath that you’d never imagine breaking. The thought was endearing enough to help relax Tara just the tiniest bit. She was still scared as fuck, though
“If you get overwhelmed at any time, we can always go back home or to my room, baby. How about we come up with a safe word?”
“I can last all night, babe. This mama doesn’t need any safe word” she says proudly. Your girlfriend was an absolute dork under all those layers of trauma
“Tara.” you playfully cock an eyebrow at her
“Sorry…” she mumbled “how about black licorice? I hate black licorice.”
“Black licorice, it is!” you beam, starting to pull into the driveway of your childhood house
It was your fathers 55th birthday. You’d been with Tara for about 2 years now, which you heavily insisted was enough to consider her a part of your family. Tara ignored how her heartbeat quickened at the implications of being in your family
Tara had still been in her thoughts when you parked the car and rounded the front to the passenger side. Opening the door, you made sure to make a big display, as if you were ushering the queen of England herself
“My liege.” you say in a faux British accent while holding out your hand as you bow, awaiting her response
“And society dares say chivalry is dead.” she laughs at your antics, intertwining your hands as you help her out of your car. There was cars upon cars parked on the road. Tara would’ve guessed this was a frat party and not a birthday party with how many cars were present. Birthday gift in hand, Tara was now worrying if it was enough
When you rang the doorbell, Tara’s heart quickened again. A week prior, you two went shopping, looking for the perfect casual dress Tara was going to wear. You were persistent that it didn’t matter what she wore. Tara ultimately won that argument when she pulled up an entire slideshow on her laptop and presented it to you sitting 5 inches away from your face. You tell yourself you let her win that time
Before she could say this was a bad idea for the umpteenth time, the door opened with your father behind it
“Well, I’ll be dammed! If it isn’t my favorite child!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, a wide grin on his face
“Dad!” you smile “You don’t look a day over 80”
“Oh hush, you.” he laughs, turning to Tara
“And you must be Tara!” he reaches out to shake her hand, Tara reciprocating the action.
“We’re all excited to meet you. Our Y/N likes to brag about you quite a lot! Welcome to the family, Tara. It’s a pleasure to have you here” the older man pats her shoulder, his grin bright enough to be seen by astronauts on the Moon
“Thank you, Mr. (L/N). Please, the pleasure is all mine” Tara smiles, and you interlace your hands once again
“Oh, hush with all that formal crap. You’re making me feel old! Frank or Frankie is perfectly fine, darlin’. Come on in!”
You give Tara’s hand a supportive squeeze, offering a smile. You’re proud she didn’t pass out while talking to your dad. He could definitely be overbearing at times, but the older man only had good intentions
Setting down you and Tara’s gift on a nearby table, she was hit with an immediate sense of home when she entered the living room. Tara felt nostalgia that didn’t exist. Perhaps it was a sense of longing. Tara could definitely imagine a small you running around and tracking mud all over the floors. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to see your baby pictures. The shorter girl felt something brush up against her legs, snapping her out of her thoughts
“Ares!” you say excitedly, reaching down to pick up the orange cat. Part of his left ear was missing, but it added to his charm
“He always takes a while to warm up to people. I wonder why he came up to you?” now you were holding the cat in such a way that invited Tara to pet him — which she happily did. Ares quickly started to purr
“Maybe it’s ‘cause I smell like you?”
“I like to think it’s ‘cause you’re the chosen one” you shrug, noticing how Tara’s cheeks redden the tiniest bit
“Why’s his name Ares? That’s a greek god, isn’t it?” Tara didn’t know much about greek mythology when she first met you, but after long rants (in which she happily listened to), she now knew some surface-level facts
“Mom let me name him when I was 13, and I might’ve been going through a really bad Percy Jackson phase at the time. Ares was a real ass when he was younger. Always messing shit up, and I guess it just fit at the time.” you smiled at him. Tara noticed the look in your eyes. You were recalling all your past memories of Ares, getting ready to talk about the orange cat if she asked. Tara liked observing you
“C’mon, how about we say hi to my Mom? Are you ready for another parent?” You asked, setting down Ares on his cat post as he stretched and let out a big yawn.
“Yeah, definitely ready.”
“You sound uncertain. I know you’ll fuck shit up out there, babe” you press a kiss to the bridge of her nose, making her subconsciously scrunch it up in the way you found sickeningly adorable
“Y’know, you should really be a professional motivational speaker, baby. I feel better already” she says in a sarcastic tone, but she fully means her words
Making your way to the backyard doors, Tara is starting to feel a little better about meeting your family. Your Mom was seated on the patio deck with a few of her sisters — your aunts. Before you could say hello, the three of them were already up
“Mom, Auntie Rosie, Aunt Amelia, meet my girlfriend. This is Tara” you smile at her, and she returns your smile
“Tara! You’re even prettier in real life!” you’re lovingly shoved out of the way as all the attention is now drawn to your girlfriend
A slew of praise bombard her, compliment after compliment meeting her ears. You come up behind her and place your hand on the brunette’s shoulder, offering a little comfort. Instead of being met with her eyes of discomfort, all you can see is happiness behind her smile. She happily engages in conversation. Answering questions about your relationship, her education, and plans for the future. Tears prick at your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You loved seeing Tara happy.
“Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Tara. Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart. How about you two enjoy the party, now?” your mom smiled
“Likewise. It was wonderful meeting you too, Mrs. (L/N)”
Before you can turn around, there’s a sudden weight on your back that makes you topple onto the grass. You can hear the faint giggling of Tara as you’re causally making out with the floor
“Lilith (M/N) (L/N). I swear to god if you don’t get off of me, I’ll make sure to-“ you never finished your sentence as more weight was put on your back. Not as heavy as your sister, but the weight was still there. By the sound of high-pitched giggles, you could only assume your nieces — your older brother’s daughters — were now on top of you as well
“Auntie Y/N! Auntie Y/N! Who’s that over there?” Your nieces say in union. Lily gets off your back, but the other two decide to stay and bombard you with questions
Tara can’t help but laugh at your state
“You’re Tara, right?” your sister was now at your girlfriend’s side as you struggled to bribe your nieces with candy (they were surprisingly resilient)
“Mhm, you’re her sister, aren’t you? Lilith is what Y/N said?”
“Lilith is my real name, but family and friends call me Lily” she winks at Tara with a smirk on her face
“Did you know Y/N had a crush on you in high school? She said she’d kill me if I told anyone, but every single day she’d tell me about her fat crush on you” Lily playfully bumped her and Tara’s shoulders together. “Even more than Elizabeth Olsen is what she’d say to me”
“Oh? Please continue, I insist.” Tara can’t contain her smile as she learns about your crush on her. Now fueled by not getting embarrassed more than you already have, you practically wrestle your nieces to get back up on your feet
“Lily I swear to everything holy, if you don’t shut up, I will make sure you never see another sunrise.” you’d probably be scarier if there weren’t two little girls hanging off your arms with some dirt and grass smudged on you face when you got up. Tara and Lily doubled down laughing, and you could feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment
“C’mon you two troublemakers, don’t give Auntie Y/N back problems just yet” your brother calls out from behind Tara. You two were the absolute splitting images of each other. You’ve already shown pictures and videos of him, but now she’s actually seeing him. Face shape, hair texture, you and him may as well be conjoined twins
“Tara, is it? Y/N hasn’t stopped talking about you since you two have met. I’m Joshua” he gracefully picks up his daughters, finally giving you breathing room to mutter something about “working out” and “bodied by toddlers”
“You don’t know how many times i’ve heard that today” Tara’s teasing grin was so wide, her name may as well be the Cheshire Cat. She looks over Joshua’s shoulder, meeting your flushed cheeks and embarrassed look
“I don’t appreciate this slander, thank you. I’d like to take my girlfriend away, now!” you say in a sing-song tone. Your siblings and nieces wave you two a goodbye before starting a conversation of their own
“Embarrassed, much?”
“Hush, you get embarrassed when Mindy tells me about your ‘longing looks’ as she’d call it”
“All the more reason for me to hear about how much you liked me~” Tara pokes the side of your ribs, and you pinch her cheek in retaliation
Before you know it, you’re inside your house again. This time, way more family and family friends occupy the main area. Tara could handle smaller interactions with your immediate family, but this stressed her out. She never liked admitting it, but crowded places freaked her the fuck out. More chances of Ghostfa-
“Black licorice?”
“Black licorice.” she nods, looking at you. Tara liked how well you knew her.
“How about my room? I have a record player in there” You guided her up the stairs, your hand not leaving Tara’s for a second
Entering your room, she noticed how you it was. Band and movie posters were all across the walls, and she could clearly picture a middle school Y/N in their Hot-Topic phase. Vinyl records and a multitude of books sat on shelves all over your room. Above your bed, under your bed, you name it, there wasn’t a shelf that was empty
“Lana, Arctic Monkeys, Taylor, Slipknot for some reason…” You listed off artists you had records for, and they were all so you. She could practically feel your entire soul in this room, just wafting around
“Lana. Definitely, Lana” Tara makes her way to your bed, feeling the soft sheets on her thighs
“What’s on your mind, baby?” You sit next to her, letting Tara rest her head on your shoulder
“Do you think i’ll ever stop being scared? I don’t like feeling scared around your family. I don’t like how they’re all still affecting me”
“It’ll take time, Tara. Months, Years, you name it. But however long it takes, I promise I’ll be there with you.” Tara fidgets with your hands, and you press a kiss to the side of her head
Before you can fully move away, Tara pulls you into another kiss. She feels soft against your lips, and smells like absolute heaven. She kisses you like you’re her last meal, and you’d happily be devoured. She straddles your waist as your back hits the headboard. You kiss until air is required, and pull away with a small smile on your face. It’s not long until you do it again. And again. And again. Until your lips are cherry red from Tara’s biting, and her dress a little crinkled from your urge to always be close
“We can stay up here if you want? I’ll tell my parents you aren’t feeling well.”
“No, that’d be bad manners. Can we just… stay like this a little longer?”
“Whatever you want, baby.” You shimmy out of her straddle, and opt to lay on your bed
“Lay down with me?”
“Y/N, i don’t want my hair to get all messy”
“So what? You’d look pretty either way”
“Your family is gonna think we had sex, baby”
“I hate to break it to you, babe, but they probably already think we’re on our third position right now”
Tara sighs.
“Moments like these are when I question why I said yes to dating you” She groans, laying down on her back next to you
“I’m irresistible” you say with a smug grin on your face
“If it helps you sleep at night, baby”
“Where did Tara and Y/N go?” your mother questioned
“Y/N whispered something in Tara’s ear, and they went upstairs. Ten dollars they’re gonna fuck”
“Lily! Language!” your sister laughed as your mom lightly slapped her shoulder
“You should probably wait 10 minutes before calling them down here”
“I’m grounding you.”
Ten minutes of laying on your bed and a few kisses later, a knock is heard at your door
“Are you two decent over there?”
“We aren’t fucking, Lily” this time, it’s your turn to groan
“Just make sure to air out your room before our nieces and nephews get up here”
“I hate being related to you” Tara laughs behind you, trying to suppress a smile. “I’d wrestle you if I wasn’t so strong” you open your door
“We both know you’re all talk. I’m the real winner, aren’t I, Tara?”
“As long as it’s not Y/N” Tara shrugs while walking down the stairs, and she can practically feel the betrayed look on your face
“I’m the real winner, aren’t I, Tara?” You say in a higher pitch, mocking Lily. “C’mon, we both know I have more experience.”
“Sex isn’t the same as wrestling, Y/N”
“You’d be agreeing with me if you actually got some, Lily”
“Alright, I think that’s enough about sex. I’m gonna have this on my conscience while we sing happy birthday to your father” Tara just couldn’t stop thinking about how you two bantering was so similar to her family bantering with Mindy and Chad. The shorter girl’s family was maybe definitely more complicated than yours, but you never made her feel bad about it. Tara liked that about you
“Your girlfriend is cool” Lily whispers, but Tara can hear her
“You’re saying that like I don’t already know” You smile, swinging an arm around Tara’s shoulders. Finally making it to the bottom floor, your family is around your father, getting ready to sing happy birthday. He requested two simple five and five candles, but it seems he lost that battle as 55 regular candles sat on his sheet cake
A few of your nieces and nephews of different ages swarm to your side like bees following their queen. Tara has to push away her baby thoughts when she sees you take one of your nieces into your arms and smile all the way up to your eyes. This barbie is having baby fever
Someone dims the lights, and a happy birthday is sung to your father. She joins in the makeshift choir, meeting his eyes and smiling. The man looked a little awkward, but honestly who didn’t while being sung happy birthday. When the crowd was finished singing, the older man closed his eyes in thought of a wish. As quickly as they closed, his wish was made
A spew of cheers and congratulations erupted as he was handed a knife to cut his cake. Kids rushed to grab a slice, and Tara had to actively try and not get her toes stepped on. The shorter girl felt someone lean onto her from behind, and she could tell it was you from how your chin rested on her head
“How’re you feeling?” A slice of cake was now in her hands as of your delivery. “Let’s sit outside and you can talk me through it”
“This is all so new to me, but i’m enjoying it. I’m still scared and nervous, but you’re making it easier” she bumps your shoulders together. “Your siblings are also pretty fun to be around”
“Thanks for coming today, baby” you kiss the side of her head. “I’m really proud of you for agreeing to come with me.”
Tara lays her head on your shoulder, and you two stay like that for a little while, appreciating each others presence to take a small breather.
“Thank you for being patient with me” The shorter girl says softly after a while
“As long as Atlas is holding up the sky, I promise I’ll wait for you”
“Baby, you’re so lucky I love you. I would’ve cringed if you were anyone else, but somehow you make it endearing”
“I always told my siblings I’d get a girlfriend that appreciates my Greek Mythology references”
“You’re a dork.” Tara smiles before leaning in to kiss you. She was looking forward for another day like this.
Bonus:
You and Tara are cuddling on her bed when the clock turns to 12am
“Hey, Tar?”
“Mmm?”
“I told you so.”
743 notes · View notes
yangbbokari · 8 months
Text
Skz making a bet on you Hyung line pt.2
Pairing: OT8 SKZ x f!Reader
Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU
Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it
Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them
A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the hyung line pt.2 to the previous one. Maknae Line pt.2 is coming soon
Parts: Hyung Line Pt.1 Maknae Line
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BANG CHAN He didn't even notice you were gone until his call ended. Going around the house, he called your name multiple times. When he got no reply, he assumed you went on a grocery trip. So, he took his time to shower, get dressed and get ready for bed. Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.
Chan hated waking up cold. You weren't there beside him. He'd gotten used to always holding you through out these 7 years. He grabbed his phone off the night stand and checked the time. It was already 6:57 in the morning. Not hearing from you at all left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
So he immediately dialed your number. It rang once. Then twice. Then three times. You never let it ring more than two times so why weren't you answering? Finally, it went to voicemail. He called a couple more times just for all of them to go to voicemail. He started panicking. It was unusual of you to not pick up his calls unless something went wrong. One more time, just calling you one more time to make sure.
You woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing uncontrollably. Rubbing your droopy eyes, you took your phone and answered it. “Hello?” You groggily said.
“Y-y/n? Where are you? Why weren’t you picking up my calls!? Hello? Y/n?”
The moment you hear his voice, the sleepiness left your body. You stayed silent because you were sure that you’d burst into anger and most likely tears if you tried to talk to him.
“Y/n? Why aren’t you answering me? I-I-I’m worried… Please just say something. You’re scaring me…”
You sat up in bed, holding the phone close to your ear. After clearing your throat you finally answered him.
“What do you want?” You were right. You were a little too irritated the moment you started talking to him.
“What do I want…? What do you mean!? I’m worried sick right now because you weren’t picking up my calls and you didn’t even come home last night. You could’ve at least texted me something, y/n. Don’t just leave me guessing of all the possibilities that could’ve happened to you!” He was practically yelling into the phone at this point and it only made you angrier.
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not being the toy who sees you as their protector and is so incredibly annoying that you can’t say it to her and instead to your fucking friends!”
Chan was speechless for a few minutes before speaking up again. “What..?” He said almost breathlessly.
“I heard that phone call you were on.” You began sniffling and the tears began to fall. “You said that you had fun… fun playing with my feelings and making me believe that you were my protector an-an-and how annoying I was…” You could hear him sighing on the other end and you began to think that he was going to agree with you but he didn’t.
“No… no, Baby, you got it all wrong. I-I shouldn’t have worded it like that.” He sighed once more. “I was talking about when I pranked you earlier this week. When I pretended that I was dead when you tried to wake me up. And then you began crying telling me how much you loved me.”
As he told you about it, you began to remember. Why were you so stupid? You began grabbing your things and walking to the shared apartment, all while listening to his explanation.
“Now there’s nothing I can say about the annoying part. But I did say that because—. Wait, you didn’t hear me tell him— never mind. What I’m saying is that I started the sentence like that because I was saying that it just made me realize all the more how much I loved you no matter how hard it got between us. Because I know these small fights we have between each other and how mad we can get and how petty the arguments are. I just love you so much and the way you cried over me broke my heart. You’re everything I could ever possibly ask for and I’m just so gra—”
He turned his head and saw you standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking an absolute mess. He hadn’t heard when you came in since he was so busy talking to you.
“When’d you get here..?” Chan stood up and made his way over to you to make sure you were alright as he checked around your body. He had tears in his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare at your boyfriend’s face in awe.
“I-I-I-I thought you didn’t love me and I got scared. S-so I left but now everything is making sense and I feel so stupid. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”
Chan took you into his arms, muffling your words. “Don’t say that. You have every right to think that way especially from what you heard. But don’t worry. I love you more than words can express.” The two of you cried into the comfort of each others arms and you’ve never felt better.
After tears were dried and things were dealt, Chan looked at you curiously. It made you a bit flustered. “Wh-why are you staring at me like that. Want to take your words back now?”
“No! I’m just wondering… how’d you get here so fast?”
“I-I-I was at my friend’s apartment. It’s a floor above us.”
He took you into his arms once again, chuckling. “God, I want to marry you.” All you could do was blush. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE MINHO The next day, Minho ran up to you and swung an arm around your neck. You were quick to push it off. He frowned and made a little pouting face.
"What's wrong? Why did you leave without me last night?"
You quickly answered each of his questions. Not wanting to be in his presence much longer. "Nothing. Something came up." You rushed past him and to class. Finals were just around the corner and you didn't have time to be dealing with someone like him.
This was your last year of school. You didn’t want the unwanted drama. You’ve sailed through school as a well-natured person, favored by the teacher’s. You didn’t want to ruin your reputation now.
But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Minho would continue to bug you in each and every class. No matter what you were doing he was there. Constantly pushing him away wasn’t working and ignoring him CLEARLY wasn’t working. So you resulted to the only thing you had left, confrontation.
Without second thought, you went straight to him after school and kicked him in the shin.
“Ow! Who the fuck!” He quickly turned around to face you as his demeanor slowly changed. “O-oh, y/n… It’s you.” He sounded kind of disappointed if you were being completely honest.
“What did you do that for, Sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes and stormed off. Leaving him to chase after you.
"Woah, woah, woah, hey..." He grabbed you by the wrist and spun you around. "What's the matter?"
He was the most disgusting human being on this planet and you didn't want anything to do with it. It made you extremely irrtated and you didn't want to be there. If anything, his act he was putting up was probably all a part of that sick and disgusting, "joke," as they called it.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow."
That was all you said before finally getting in your car and driving home. You hated that you were such a pushover. You hated that no one coud truly accept you for you. You hated that you were so stupid. You hated that you were so blind. You hated yourself.
You pondered over the entire weekend. Highschool's almost over. It didn't matter now. But to you, it did matter. You weren't going to just let people treat you like trash anymore. You knew just what to do.
On Monday, you came in as a fresh new person. Both physical wise and mental wise. You weren't gonna let people fuck with you anymore. You spent the whole weekend researching on makeup. You already knew lots about fashion. Your closet was already filled with fashionable items, you just weren't sure when to wear them.
With some accents to your school uniform, you looked perfect. Now the problem was the makeup. This wasn't your forte. You've never really used makeup so it was a struggle. But with enough practice, it was almost perfect. Even though it was a struggle, your makeup came out just fine.
When walking in, you could feel the eyes that followed you. It made you super uncomfortable. Maybe you did your makeup wrong and looked like a clown instead of what you intended. Your anxiety quickly built up and you ran for the bathroom. On the way there, you bumped into a wall. Well, a body rather.
The boy gently pushed your body off of his and you were quite dissapointed with the boy you were faced with. It was Minho.
"Woah... miss, are you okay? You should watch where you're going. You're too pretty to be hurt. Are you new here?"
All you could do was scoff. People were staring because you all of a sudden looked beautiful in other's eyes. Even Minho couldn't recognize you.
"It's me, Dipshit."
"Y-y/n?"
You rolled your eyes and kicked him in his balls before leaving the scene. That was the best feeling in your life. Two less problems to deal with. Minho and the judgement of society. Fuck the rest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ SEO CHANGBIN You kept crying throughout the night. It shouldn't hurt this much but you couldn't help the tears from falling. At about 9pm, Changbin knocked on the door.
"Y/n..? I know you're upset with me but please come eat dinner. Please?"
When you didn't reply, you could hear him sigh. It's not that you didn't want to talk to him and that you were ignoring him. It was just that you weren't sure if your mental state could handle that right now. You didn't want to just lash out at him.
There was some clinking and clanking in the kitchen before you heard the front door shut. It made you want to cry even harder. But you were sure that any other girl would do better for him. Than the one who currently had her back against the door as she cried.
You slowly got up and opened the door to see if he really left. It kind of broke your heart but what else could you really do in this situation? You made your way to the couch and sat down, holding your knees close to your chest. The tears were unstoppable and kept coming. It wasn't like you wanted them to, it's just you didn't know how to stop them.
As you were drowning in you sorrows, you heard the front door open. Immediately, your head shot up only to see Changbin standing there with a guilty look and a bouquet of flowers. He stood there frozen in his place.
"Baby, why are you still u-"
"Where were you?" You interceded.
Taking a quick glance between you and the door, he pointed towards it.
"I figured that you'd need space so I went out. Then I realized that you might think something bad about it. Like I'm leaving you or something. So I went to grab some gifts and come back home. So that I can beg you to take me back if you decided to break up with me. If you didn't take me back then I wo-"
At this point, Chanbin was just rambling on and on. You could see how sorry he was and it made you feel like you were a fool. So you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his frame. You cried into his chest not knowing what else you could do.
Changbin was a little to stunned to move or speak for a minute. But he slowly embraced you after setting the roses down.
"Baby... I thought you'd be mad at me." He cautiously stated.
Your lower lip quivered as you replied to him. "I-I am! But just a little bit. I'd rather have you by my side than lose you forever over something silly. Plus it happened in the past and you told me yourself. S-so I guess it makes it a better..."
And at that, Changbin holds you even tighter and lets out a sigh of relief. "I thought I would lose you forever over a mistake, in the past, I made. Thank you for forgiving me." He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. But you shook your head.
"No, thank you for loving me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HWANG HYUNJIN After running for a while, you slowed down and began walking. You went to the Han River and took a seat on one of the benches. Checking your phone, to see the battery life was out and decided to take the time to relax. A lot had already been going on in your life. You had just found out that your mother was sick and you didn't want to tell Hyunjin because that would make him worry. You got reprimanded at work for getting an order wrong. Nearly fired because you "didn't know how to do your job right."
It was a stressful day and you just hoped that movie night would make it better. Except it didn't. It made it worse.
Having to find out from Jisung instead of Hyunjin himself really hurt. You knew that Hyunjin would tell you when he was ready. But, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he never liked you, let alone love you, to begin with.
You also knew that Hyunjin loved you and you were just overthinking. But were you? The river was peaceful as is and you didn't want to face reality right now so that's where you stayed.
It wasn't until nearly midnight, did you return home. Upon entering your apartment, you were met with a very distraught Hyunjin. He looked freaked out about something. But as soon as he saw you, he took you into his arms, tightly. He sobbed out onto your shoulder as he said, "thank you," over and over again.
"H-hyunnie..? What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Yes, you were upset. But seeing him like this did something to you.
"I thought- I thought that something happened to you. You weren't picking up your calls or replying to my messages so I told the boys and other friends we both knew to contact you too, figuring you didn't want to talk to me of all people. B-but then they all said they couldn't reach you either. So I came to your apartment and when you weren't here I got absolutely terrified. What if you didn't make it home? What if you got hurt. What if you got KIDNAPPED!? And that would all happen because I was too stupid to admit the truth. Because I made you angry. Because I made the one person I promised not to hurt, hurt so badly. A-a-a-a-an-and-"
He was terribly hyperventilating at this point so you grabbed his face and kissed him. He immediately softened into the kiss. His breathing got slower and his body began to slump.
You slowly pulled away and gazed into his eyes as you started consoling him.
"Hyunnie... my phone died and I stayed by the Han River. I did not get hurt or kidnapped as you can see. Since, I'm standing right in front of you right now. If anything did happen, I would never let you blame yourself because it wouldn't be your fault. Besides, I love you and I wouldn't want you to live with that."
His teary eyes looked into yours as his lips formed a soft pout. "You still love me?"
"Of course I do. Even if you made a bet on me."
It made him cry even more at the fact that you still had this much trust in him.
"I love you too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @123rinu @pgnwook @mixtape-racha @hannieslovebot @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz @kibs-and-bits @kaitchan
@lynlyndoll @bangchansslut6 @hanniemylovelyquokka @changbinsjuicybiceps @xx-twalia-xx @bangchansprettygf @lvlnijiro @totallynotlyntv @htnw004 @shecheatedwithme @jiisungllvr @neteyamsmate4life @yoongles2025 @cosniffee @gdaymates @iilliess @tadashisdisaster sry if I missed u on the taglist
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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 months
Text
Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 4833
A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.
You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared. 
About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt. 
You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands. 
You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car. 
‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.
Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being. 
Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car. 
“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you. 
“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”
“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.
‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’
“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.
“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.
‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.
“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”
The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”
The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”
“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”
“No. Not so far as we can tell.”
“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked. 
“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”
“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off. 
“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot. 
“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away. 
***
After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks. 
‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’
The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink. 
“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament. 
You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”
“No. Nothing I can remember.”
“I like your necklace.”
“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”
“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”
“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in. 
You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny. 
“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”
Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.
“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in. 
“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.
It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”
‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’
“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave. 
You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car. 
“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.
“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”
“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied. 
“Look, man—” you started. 
“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”
“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised. 
Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”
“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”
The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”
“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”
“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it. 
“Oh-kay,” you muttered. 
“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”
“A bit touchy?” you smirked.
“Yeah,” Sam laughed. 
“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked. 
“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”
“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”
“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head. 
“Well, do you know anything about the case?” 
“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”
“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.
“Okay, then what?”
***
“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along. 
“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.
“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.
“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”
“What’s Monday?” you asked. 
“I’ve got an interview with law school.”
“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled. 
Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”
“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.
“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”
“No, and she's not ever going to know.”
“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge. 
“And who's that?”
“You're one of us,” Dean said. 
Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”
You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.
“You have a responsibility to—”
Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”
You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.
“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.
“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.
“Guys!” 
“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing. 
The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”
“No idea,” Dean answered. 
Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights. 
“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.
“Who's driving your car?” you asked him. 
He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them. 
“Oh.”
The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible. 
“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.
‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’
“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”
“What?” came his aggravated response. 
You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.
“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.
“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.
“I’m super,” his brother responded.
You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door. 
“Your car okay?” Sam asked. 
“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”
You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”
Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process. 
Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”
***
Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room. 
Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together. 
“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall. 
‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower. 
“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.
His brother turned around. 
“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”
Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”
Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“You guys are strange.”
Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom. 
You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean. 
“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.
He smiled sadly at it. 
After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”
“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained. 
“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”
“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”
“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”
“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.
“I’m sure you are,” you smiled. 
“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his. 
“Meh, not much to tell.”
“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted. 
“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”
“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again. 
“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.
“You sound like Dean.”
“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—” 
You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest. 
He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?” 
You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”
“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”
“No,” Sam said.
“A burger would be great,” you told him. 
“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said. 
You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”
“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him. 
You shook your head. “Dick.”
Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out. 
“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.
“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”
“Shit.”
Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.
“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.
Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.
***
You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive. 
After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops. 
Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear. 
“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.
“I told you not to call me that.”
“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”
“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped. 
“Don’t objectify me.”
“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”
“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”
“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”
“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation. 
You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.” 
Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”
“No,” Sam answered. 
You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward. 
“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him. 
“It’s not me.”
You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off. 
“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up. 
The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”
‘That’s it.’
“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully. 
“Sam!” 
Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her. 
“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”
“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”
You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala’s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you. 
You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots. 
“Sam!”
“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled. 
Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest. 
“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car. 
‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought. 
The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window. 
“I think,” Sam responded weakly. 
“Can you move?” you asked.
“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother. 
Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”
You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car. 
You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs. 
“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor. 
“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau. 
Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”
“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.
Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”
“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.” 
You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly. 
“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly. 
“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid. 
“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”
“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head. 
“No, no, I shouldn’t—” 
“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”
A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”
Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college. 
***
The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. 
“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat. 
“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”
“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”
“True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.
“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map. 
“About 600 miles,” he answered.
“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in. 
Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”
The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”
“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.
Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”
The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.
“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.
“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist. 
Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex. 
You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat. 
Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”
Dean nodded. 
“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”
Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”
Sam patted the car door twice before turning away. 
“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.” 
You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay. 
Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.” 
Dean then began to drive off. 
The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped. 
“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail. 
He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.
The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment. 
Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom. 
You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex. 
It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed. 
You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say. 
Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.
You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly. 
‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’
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amateurmasksmith · 2 months
Text
You Didn’t Know (Reprise)
(don’t mind me, just got inspired by a shitpost by @onesidedradiostatic (and their Anon) and turned it into angst…)
(also, it looks like @convolutedblasphemy beat me to it - well done btw - but I still wanted to give it a stab!)
Vox (yoinking the proof away): “Gimme that, Alastor, It’s not meant to be seen by you. Let’s move on, everyone, Figure out the best move that should, Improve our chances against the Angels’ threat!”
Alastor teleports behind him and counter-yoinks.
Alastor: “You want me to ignore that? No, not yet.”
Alastor examines the figurine closer, with a morbid fascination.
Lucifer, to Alastor: “It’s not as simple as you think, Not everything’s been spelled in ink.”
Vox lunges at Al angrily, flailing his arms as Alastor easily sidesteps him. Val catches him before he can fall.
Vox: “Leave it, Alastor!”
Valentino: “Careful, Voxy, keep a cool head.”
Vox pushes away from Val, gesturing towards Alastor.
Vox: “No! You never cared, did you?! You left, and it was like you were dead, Al/ /astor! We could’ve just gone our separate ways, but You left me here, with this internal blaze!”
Alastor: “I’m sure you wish it had been so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”
Vox: “You left before we could talk it out! Find a way we could still be friendly! But you blew your shot when you dropped off the block, Yeah, I’m so ‘sorry’ for being so petty!”
Alastor pulls Vox into a dance as they sing past each other.
Alastor/Vox: “No more questions to be posed,” / “There’s one question to be posed,” ”I hate you now, case closed” / “Though you are predisposed” “I try to forget that we were forever!” / “Why is this thing worth losing your temper?”
Vox breaks off and walks away, putting distance between them…
Vox: “I made the mistake once, Now I won’t be a chump! Decades of isolation await you,”
Velvette, concerned where this is going: “Vox?”
Vox: “No-one else will think to even date you!”
Alastor: “Wait-”
Vox turns around, realizing what he said.
Vox, who didn’t mean to spill: “Shit.”
Alastor (Aro 404): “What are you saying? Let me get this straight, When you begged me then, Down on your knees…?”
Valentino: “He didn’t know?!”
Velvette: “Whoops! Guess the cat’s out of the bag!
Alastor (through gritted teeth): “Oh, what a reveal!”
Vox: “Wait a sec here, Al, you didn’t know?”
Alastor begins slowly pacing towards Vox.
Alastor: “I thought you were bolder, as our friendship grew older!”
Vox, pained: “No!”
Alastor’s demon form begins to show as he slowly corners Vox.
Alastor: “You have to listen, My life here has just one mission, So it’s lucky I saved you, The anguish it takes to… Do what was required!”
Vox: “To think that I admired you, Al!”
Alastor breaks off, dismissing him with a wave of his hand, and starts walking away.
Alastor: “I don’t need your condescension, It’s not my fault you weren’t direct!”
Vox: “Was our relationship just manipulation? Oh, I was naive to expect you, to care beyond favors you’re repaying!”
Alastor: “Vox, what on earth are you saying? Love is not forever, your programs here are all lies, I’d have thought that seven years would give you enough time! Now I’ll leave you all to handle your foolish little scandal,”
Al gestures to the group, and casually drops the figurine in Lucifer’s hands as he brushes past.
Alastor, to Lucifer: “I’d recommend you stick to sculpting Anatidae.”
Alastor is engulfed by his shadow, and melts into a nearby radio. He emerges at Rosie’s place, ears drooping. The music takes on a softer style.
Alastor: “Rosie, dear, I have a problem.”
Rosie: “For you, Al, I’m all ears! Sit down here!”
Rosie gestures to her couch, on which she sits, and Alastor crumples.
Alastor: “Ugh! Apparently, my old pal Vox, Bought a commission, born from horrid thoughts… I gave him a piece of my mind, he Said ‘we were forever,’ and yet somehow I never…”
Rosie: “Oh. Yes, I see…”
Rosie brings Alastor in for a hug.
Alastor: “Why the fuck / Was I the last to know my old friend had a crush?”
As the music fades out, we see Alastor’s face buried in Rosie’s shoulder, partly obscured… Without a smile.
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lynn-writes-things · 2 years
Text
till death do us part
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• jjk men reacting to your death
ft: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Yuji, Megumi, Toge, Yuta (no Sukuna cause truly I cannot picture him caring, sorry)
wc: 1.9k
cw: I’m sure you could gather this from the title, but death! specifically reader death! no details given, nothing explicit, just mentions of reader being dead and the boys dealin with it :( ALSO: mentions of blood + injury in Yuji’s ; mentions of major depressive episodes in Megumi’s ; mentions of disordered eating + alluded suicidal ideation in Yuta’s
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Satoru Gojo:
Is it too sad to say that he’s starting to get used to people he loves dying? At least you weren’t killed by him. That’s a plus, he guesses. Gojo tries to keep face, he acts like he’s fine, like he didn’t just lose the love of his life. He still smiles and laughs, but it’s always forced. He visits your grave on a daily basis, usually at night, so no one sees him. Honestly, he talks to you like you’re still there - fills you in on all the gossip, all the latest missions, what he’s done today, etc. But he always, always tells you how much he loves you, how much he misses you. Poor guy is grateful for his blindfold, because if anyone were to catch him on his walk back and see how red and puffy his eyes were, he think he’d lose it. He curses the higher ups for sending you on such a dangerous mission alone. Curses himself for not going with you. Overtime, he’ll heal up, he’ll learn to be happy again.. but he has no idea what to do with the ring he never got to give you, though..
Kento Nanami:
He leaves again. Not for good, no, he has to track down the fucking curse that got the best of you. He’ll do it if it’s the last thing he ever does. And honestly? He’s gotten reckless with his fights. Nanami let’s his anger fuel his actions, which means his judgement is clouded, it makes him sloppy. He doesn’t care for his own life anymore, not if it means a life without you in it. Gojo pulls him out of action for awhile, but tells him that when they track down the curse, that Nanami will be the first to know (Gojo fully intends to go with him, whether Nanami wants him to or not). He doesn’t visit your grave every day, it’s too painful, but he does go at least 2-3 times a week. He cooks your favorite food, drinks your favorite wine, even though he’s always found it to be way too sweet. Your plants are always watered, hell he even buys plant food and does research just to make sure they stay alive - he just needs to keep some part of you alive with him.
Suguru Geto:
He becomes ruthless. His followers have never felt his wrath like this before, and honestly, it makes some of them want to leave. Geto will laugh if they try, because there’s no fucking way they’re leaving alive. Ever since Riko’s death, he’s felt so empty, full of despair. His confidence as a cult leader has always been a well crafted farce, a facade that he fronted expertly. But then you came along and brought him joy again. You taught him how to be soft again, to smile again, to laugh again. Geto loved you, wholly and completely, which is why he always kept you so close to him, always keeping an eye on you. Figures, the one time he brings you someplace with him, the one time he lets you go off by yourself for a few minutes, tragedy strikes, and he can’t save you. Watching the life leave your eyes right before his own, as he cradled your head to his chest, it’s a sight that he’ll never forget, no matter how badly he wishes that he could. That curse is the most vile one he’s ever had the displeasure of ingesting. Geto knows though, that very moment solidified it for him.. love is the cruelest curse of them all. And it’s one that can never truly be exorcized.
Toji Fushiguro:
Numb at first, honestly. The home you shared had never felt so empty before. He hates it. He wants to leave, never see this place again, but part of him won’t let him do that. Not yet, anyways. Ever since the death of his first wife, Toji had been lost to the darkness, he went back to his old ways with a vengeance, until you came around. You, with your vibrant personality and sweet smiles. You taught him how to love again. That there’s still light in this dark world, and you led him back to that light. It’s because of you that he was able to reconnect with Megumi, to actually have a family again. Toji loved you, he changed his ways for you, got a job that didn’t involve killing for you. He would’ve done absolutely anything for you. But now you’re gone, and he feels lost again. Megumi doesn’t let him go back to his old ways. He’s old enough to actually talk to his dad this time, and he does. Toji can’t bring himself to hurt his son again, not now. Sure, he does take up a couple “side jobs” here and there again, but he still tries to do right, for the most part. Megumi actually makes a deal with him - Toji might not be able to actually exorcise curses, but Megumi can. Together, they track the curse down, and avenge your death. It doesn’t offer much comfort, but having closure is better than not. At least it’s something.
Yuji Itadori:
When he finds out, it quite literally feels like the air has been stolen from his lungs. It hurts worse than having his heart ripped out (trust him, he knows). Doesn’t openly cry in public, save for a few tears. He’s in too much shock. When he’s alone in his dorm though? That’s when it hits him. He screams, yells incoherent curses, sobbing the entire time. His wall now has a couple new holes, but honestly, that wasn’t enough. He goes outside and ends up beating the shit out of a tree until his knuckles are all bloodied and broken. Megumi and Nobara find him like that, brought to his knees in front of that same tree and just sobbing into his bloody hands. After the initial outburst, he just goes numb. He doesn’t leave his dorm much unless he has to, Megumi or Nobara bring him food because he’s stopped getting it himself, they always sit with him while he eats just so they know he does eat. Even Sukuna can’t get a rise of him, it’s almost like Yuji doesn’t hear him at all, until he gets too tired and just replies “shut up,” or some halfhearted plea to be quiet, but his voice is quiet and entirely void of life. Now, Yuji’s no stranger to death. His parents died, his grandfather died right in front of him, but you dying hurt him in a way that he can never describe. To say he loved you didn’t even scratch the surface of it, Yuji adored you. He definitely goes in your dorm and grabs your clothes, including the hoodie you stole from him on your very first date. He kept it all long after they cleared out your dorm, just so he could have something that smelled like you to help him sleep at night.
Megumi Fushiguro:
Completely shuts down. Won’t even talk to anybody other than extremely basic responses. Inumaki says more than a devastated Megumi does. He has it bad, poor guy totally neglects himself, too lost in his own head to remember to practice proper hygiene every day. He can’t sleep, has no appetite to speak of, hell he barely drinks water until someone forces him to. Which they always do, someone checks up on him at least once a day, though Yuji and Nobara are a near constant presence. Surprising to no one, he gets extremely reckless on missions. He’s lost yet another person that he loves, what’s the point in being careful? He’s pulled from action for a while, Nanami suggests he go to counseling, but Megumi can’t see the point in it. It won’t bring you back. It’s not like with his sister, there’s no hope for you to wake up ever again. To be honest, Megumi gets very bitter. He’s angry. At the world for taking you away too soon, at the higher ups for sending you on a mission you weren’t equipped for, despite Gojo’s telling them that. Hell, Megumi is angry with you for dying. He tells you that much when he visits your grave, the first time that he went he was yelling at you for leaving him, he was cursing the entire world. That was the first time he actually cried over it. He broke down at your grave, Gojo found him sobbing in front of it, and did his best to actually support Megumi, to comfort him a bit, because Gojo does understand how it feels to lose someone you love too soon. Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever going to recover from this.
Toge Inumaki:
He just.. breaks. Shatters, really, like glass. He’s angry, pissed off, actually, because he knew something like this would happen. He fucking knew it, the second that they sent you on a mission alone. Hell, he pleaded with Gojo to let him go with you, but it was out of his hands. Inumaki had almost snuck off with you, almost fucking did it, higher ups be damned.. but he didn’t. He talked himself out of it, saying that he was acting crazy. You’re strong, you’d be fine.. so when he found out that you weren’t? He blamed himself for not going with you. Yuta is really the only person he wants to be around, because he knows that Yuta understands the pain he’s going through right now. Except you didn’t get to come back as a curse. Honestly, he knows he shouldn’t wish this, but he kinda wishes that you did come back as one. He just wants to be with you again. He wants to hear your laughter, to see your smile, feel your arms around him one last fucking time.. it’s not fair. On one of your first dates, you got matching bracelets with little riceball charms, and Toge never ever takes his off. When your matching one was returned to him, he took it to your grave and placed it there. It’s yours. At least this way, you’re still kind of connected, right? Even with his medicine, he couldn’t speak for a couple of days after he first visited your grave. No amount of begging you to “wake up” changed a thing, but he damn sure fucking tried..
Yuta Okkotsu: (god, can I even do this to him?)
Shuts himself away, locks the door and doesn’t like anyone in. He doesn’t leave to eat, but his friends always leave something outside of the door for him, texting him to let him know it’s there. He hardly actually eats any of it, but he pretends for their sake. No one questions why he’s been going through more garbage bags lately. He spirals, badly. Losing the second person he’s ever loved, after losing the first to an early death as well? It kills him. Why does everybody that he loves die? Is he cursed to have that be his fate? The isolation doesn’t help, he knows it makes it worse, but he can’t bring himself to stop it. Honestly, he briefly considers joining you, but he knows that Rika wouldn’t let him. His isolation only lasts so long before Gojo intervenes, forcing him out to socialize, even if Yuta is miserable the whole time. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t help distract him a bit. As much as he misses you, Yuta is glad that you didn’t come back as a curse. He finds some solace knowing that your soul gets to rest, rather than live in a way that he knows you’d hate. He hasn’t been sleeping much, and it shows when he falls asleep at your grave sight, his tears pooling below him. You come to him in the dream he has, and it both breaks and helps mend his poor heart when you tell him that you’re still watching over him. Yuta laughs a little when you start scolding him for how poorly he’s been treating himself, but he promises you that he’ll start doing better. And he does. He tries, for you.
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rebouks · 4 months
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Previous // Next
[Robin kicked his textbook, launching it halfway across the attic in frustration] Clementine: Sorry, I was never good at math… Robin: It’s not-.. I can’t concentrate anyway. Robin: I hate being sucked into other people’s stupid heads! [Robin’s stomach still twisted from earlier and he clung to his temples, as though ripping his own head off might help] Clementine: I’d take it from you in a heartbeat if I could, darlin’. Robin: What’s it like to be dead..? Clementine: Oh, I’m not sure you should ask me. Robin: Why not? Clementine: Well, I’d say I feel just the same as before. Robin: But… Clementine: I’m still deceased? Robin: Yeah. Clementine: Most folk go somewhere else though, hm? Perhaps we should ask them. [Clementine poked Robin’s chest with mirth, her ghostly touch sending a shockwave of shivers down his spine] Robin: Hey! Quit doing that. Clementine: Come now, let me have a little fun! I don’t get much of it up here. Robin: So, come downstairs. Clementine: Oh, I simply couldn’t. Robin: I bet you can if you try, we could-… Clementine: I CAN’T! [Robin’s skin prickled as Clementine lost her temper, the pages of his abandoned textbook wafting ominously] Robin: Okay, okay! [Oscar’s distant yelling made Robin jump, cutting through the sudden tension like butter-.. dinner was ready] Clementine: You ought to take your dinner up here one day, your father’s cooking sounds delicious. Robin: I’ll bring you something for afters-.. you can look at it, I guess. [Clementine nodded, forcing a smile as Robin began his descent] Clementine: Disappointing. Robin: What? Clementine: Being dead, that’s what it feels like…
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asmolfolk · 1 year
Text
Look who is back? Back with some headimagines... (?) Yeah. This time with 3 characters... All of them being humans in SNV... Buuut, the next one I'm doing is going to have 7 characters [Gods] I'm very happy to see that my last post about Snv x reader got 500+ likes, thank you all very much! Hope you all like this one too! And also, I might do a part 2 of the Snv as boyfriends, after all, we got some others interessing characters to see. Disclamer: Reader as a Human [GN]
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The Humans noticing that they are in love.
They had a good number of partners, wifes or whatsoever... But, when they meet you - they trully had falled in love.
Qin Shi Huang
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[TW: Reader being someone from the Future uuuuh]
Qin Shi Huang had a wife and numerous concubines. He knows love, he knows lust, he knows passion… He knows and can actually understand those feelings very well.
After his win, he was being treated and started to look at some people… But, he couldn’t find the ones he was looking for… Unfortunately…
 But then, he met you… Yes, meet you - The one and only human from 2000+ or less. He was quite surprised to see you… Like, those outfits seem comfortable… Can he try it? 
 He would be so INVESTED in knowing you better, especially to understand why you died!... After all, this future seems like a paradise, doesn't it?
 He was surprised when you explained what got wrong in your path… And why you decided to do it, you weren’t caring about that matter… It was like, saying ‘I like [animal]’. You were already dead and maybe, the human race is going extinct… So what’s the point of hiding? - Your answer made him… Speechless.
 He never thought that people were so depressed… He is rethinking a lot of his decisions… Did he do that accidentally? No? Yes?
 Well- After all those talks, he felt a sort of connection with you… Yes, in that little time. He wasn’t someone that needed a lot of things to fall in love with… So, he actually liked your company a lot and started to always be at your side. He watched the others fight at your side.
 Holding your hand, he would bluntly say “...I love you, let’s get married!”
 …Well, you are in the afterlife… Why not get married and show some love to those gods? After all, the goddess of Marriage and the goddess of Love will be by your side… I guess-
Other headcanon [TW: Death.]
 You two meet in life… But, why? Why did you accept being at his side?... It was only for love. You loved him and with that love, you swore to protect and to be loyal forever… You were his guard, his favorite… But wasn’t his lover.
 He accepted you, but not your love… He didn’t know, after all.
 You spend all your life years by his side, fighting, helping, caring… You tried to be the best for him… To try to make his eyes be locked on you - poor you, you never got the chance…
 They [Concubines and Wifes] always seemed to get more attention than you, which made you wish to be one of them. You wanted to be more than a guard, a friend… But, no… You wouldn’t.
 Before you could ask for this, you would die… And you knew that.
 You sighed… You were 31 days in a crazy sickness, no doctor seemed to know what was happening to you. No doctor seemed to know how to heal you… With that, the last doctor declared that you were probably going to die from that sickness.
 Qin Shi Huang was right by your side when he heard that… He was holding your hand tightly - as he wasn’t letting the gods take your soul.
 “You are sure…?” He asked the doctor, not wanting to wait more.
 “I’m super sorry, my lord… But, it seems to be the truth here… But, they probably have some more days…” As Qin and the doctor talked, you could only look at his face… Admire the last time you could see him “I’m going to leave you two alone.”
 As the doctor was away, Qin stared at you… He was silent for a good minute… Before he started.
 “You… Are dying…” He repeated, those words coming broken out of his mouth.
 “...Yes, it seems like I am.” You confirmed, he was surprised that you weren’t reacting like him - worried. “...Qin, I know I’m dying right now… And I probably don’t look like the best option to… You know, get married and-”
 “What are you saying?! You are still beautiful…” He answered quickly.
 “...I wanted to say… I love you, I feel things for you that a guard shouldn’t… That a Friend shouldn’t.” You closed your eyes, waiting for his answer... If only your eyes were open - You would see his flustered face, how surprised he was!
 “...I… Feel the same way.”
 The declaration was the last thing you thought that you would do… But no. He got married to you, made a whole ceremony for your wedding… And then, your funeral. At least, you could spend the rest of your days with him.
 Unfortunately, you waited until your death to do so.
They never thought about romance, but they had standard... And you meet all of them, congrats - They are in love with you or better, you and science don't get off his head.
Nikola Tesla
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[TW: Nikola being oblivious to himself]
Let's get one thing straight: Nikola always had some eye for... Partners. He was never interested in love, always occupied with his work - Let's say that he loved his work. Nikola never thought too much about it, as some wikis say - 'He dedicated all his life to scientific work and he couldn’t let his thoughts “wander” into romantic fantasies.'
Okay, firstly… He wouldn’t notice it at all. Nikola never thought too much about love only when some journalist started asking him about his lovelife and everything… Or even, asking if he had someone special. For some reason, you were the one that appeared on his mind… But why? Why you? Maybe it was the way that you made it clear - not only to him but to anyone else that you had your priorities, that you studied hard to accomplish what you were nowadays… To show your intelligence, even in such a hard era for a woman, you were there.  You and him had a lot of intelligent and thoughtful talks… It was amazing for him. He couldn’t quite notice, but he was waiting to meet you again every day. But for him to notice? Well, that wasn’t easy. If you didn’t confess to him first - it would be in one [different] way. He noticed that he could remember all of your features… Even a dot - That you were in his mind as much as math!... Well, he noticed that something was wrong with that, he tried to ask you in a way that wasn’t too obvious.
“Look… I will give you an example that a… Friend of mine is passing by, alright?” Yes, he used the ‘Friend that isn’t him, believe it please’ trick.
“...Hm… Seems like gossip… Loved it, tell me everything!” You joked and just waited for his words.
“...Well, my Friend is thinking a lot about this one person… And like, this person is almost 100% of the time on his mind! His work and this person are frequently topics… He always tries to give up sometime to be with that person, even if he is with too much work because… This person seems to calm him down, just to be around… This person was enough to make my Friend calm.“ You were surprised, you never thought that this would happen…
“Oh… My… You are truly gossiping!! Okay, okay… That seems like… Love, yeah, he is in love.” You answered right away making Nikola be in complete shock “So does this person know? Because, like, depending on their reaction… They can be in love with him too.”
“...It’s complicated… They seem like really good friends.”
“Some things seem one way but aren’t like that completely, you should know that, Dear Nikola.”
 His mask falled, he couldn’t bear to think anymore. Hearing your nicknames, your words… Everything was repeating in his mind… Do you have the same thought? Do you love him too?
 He was in shock at first, but everything seemed to make sense after finding out about love. He could only smile to himself, thinking about a way to… Show this love for you.
 Nikola notices it now, the reason why he feels his heart drops when he sees you sad - why he feels happy when you are, why he wants to see you happy and well… Why does he think about you all the time. He wants you, but - he wouldn’t force himself on you - He needed to form a good confession.
So, he would start to make a lot of mathematical accounts to see which version would work the best or, the one that was chosen by the math… [Spinning wheel, is that you?]
 In a resume, if you don’t clarify to him that what he is feeling is love - he may not ever know, only if his curiosity speaks louder.  He doesn’t care about those feelings too much, so… Yeah, he can just spend the rest of his love without knowing that he loved you-  But one thing is sure, he would try to search and understand more of this feeling before knowing what that was - he knew love, of course, but never thought too much about it… And, as he is planning, a nice relationship with you would need his understandment about love, relationship and stuff.
When confessing.
 Nikola was on his desk, writing something that seemed important on some papers. He was tired, but not enough to make him sleep.
He heard your steps and quickly said "You may come in." before you could ask anything, he let you in. As you entered, you noticed how tired he looked… And quickly runned to him.
"Nikola?! Are you alright?" You asked as you were at his side "You seem so tired… Did you work all day?" You touched his face, taking off his attention completely… He looked at you as you kept talking about his well-being.
 You were worrying, touching his face and showing so much love and affection… He didn't want to confess yet… But he couldn't hide it.
"I love you." He said, without hesitation or regrets "I was thinking about it for the past months… I couldn't sleep properly today… I had prepared some… Things… For this confession, but… I couldn't bring myself to lie about what I'm passing."
 You didn't make him wait for an answer, kissing him as a yes… That was the start of this romantic math exercise.
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Only experience love once and it was false, they thought that love was dead... Until they meet you - Unfortunely, was so late... My fair lady, they wouldn't let you mix with their sickness.
Jack The Ripper
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[Tw: Angst - Reader is called by 'My fair lady'.]
Jack didn't know that someone could be so gentle on the inside and outside, he is totally obsessed with your colors, he doesn't really want to kill you - Your colors are beautiful without him doing a thing or so. But, his mother was like that too… So would you change with him? SHORT ANSWER, NO. You didn't change with him at all, even if you were bored or angry, you still treated him right and when you did something wrong, you apologized deeply. He thinks that you are a pure soul, someone that the gods send to try to "fix" him. Yet, he doesn't want that… The thing is that, there's nothing wrong with what he does (In his head, at least) and yes with his past, but that was necessary for him to show true and pure faith, painting everyone with the most beautiful color ever. All he - Jack - wants is to help keep your good soul, so when someone tries to get advantage on you - He kills, no question asked… He just straight up kills that person. He knows that he wasn't supposed to do this, but what could he do when you were his muse? No one would let their lover die… Even if that "lover" didn't know about this 'relationship'.  He wouldn't let you know about his own feelings, he wouldn't want you to dirty your mind or hands knowing that he kills. That he is full of malice.  Because of that, you may tell people about your friend… And maybe about the people who died mysteriously - After all, you didn't know that The Ripper was responsible for those acts.
"Hmm… I'm so tired!" You said, while letting the book (that Jack was teaching you with) fall to the ground "Why is that so complicated?!"
"Don't worry, my fair lady… Is going to be over soon." Jack said with a short laugh, he nodded with his head as you groaned "I know, it can be pretty hard."
"Hmph! It's as hard as a rock, I don't want to study more - Can we do something else, pretty please?" You knew that Jack couldn't say no to you? Or you just tried anything that came to your mind? Either way, you succeeded.
 The both of you were watching some plays in the theater.
 He - since the beginning knows what this feeling is and - will try to make you never "break" this perfect figure (And that way is, of course, killing those who dare lay a hand on you.)
 He wouldn't confirm it in his life, he wouldn't dare to say it to you… Especially when you were so happy about marriage, husband, work or traveling. He doesn't want you to believe that he was the perfect person, because he isn't - After all, he doesn't think that someone would be down to have a serial killer boyfriend.
 He wants the best for you.
When confessing.
But there he was, the winner of humanity… That was treated poorly by his own race. He smiled through all the pain he felt, it was the only thing he could do… But then… You appeared in front of him, you looked so… Young, different from him… And your colors were - still - so beautiful…
 Jack couldn't process what was happening… You were in front of him, looking at him with dreamy yet so mature eyes.
"...Jack!" You were the first one to speak, hugging him, not caring about the blood, tomatoes or anything else. "You're the winner…!"
 Jack smiled a bit, hugging you close, not wanting to let you go. " My fair lady… You're still so young…"
"...I- Well… I was considered a witch and burned… Because of knowledge… Or something" As you explain, Jack is still holding you close.
"...I'm sorry, [Your name]... If I had stopped you…"
"It's alright, Jack… At least it was fun… It was better than other women's lives… Oh! I meet some of the "new generation"! It seems so nice to actually study and have some rights!" As you spoke to Jack, you noticed how tired and sick he looked… He only smiled when he noticed you looking at him with worry.
"...I love you." He said it, after a whole life against that… He said it. He admitted that he loves you, that he wants you… After all, he is not the same…
"...I- I love you too!"
And you just made everything worth again… As darkness surrounded him.
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cupids-scream-queen · 7 months
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A Little Murderess °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*
❀ female!murderer!reader x poly!ghostface ❀
Part 6 // 3.5k words
-> Part 5
Warnings: stalking, breaking and entering, graphic descriptions of murder, homophobic slur (once), details of dismemberment.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Summary: You've just moved to a new town after the death of your little brother and stepfather with your mother. You're not ashamed of what you do to cope with the deaths; especially when you make two new friends who you might have more in common with than you thought...
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
He hadn’t called. He apologized for it at school, telling you that Sidney called, and keeping up appearances, he couldn’t leave her hanging. He told you he’d come by tonight, or perhaps call, but to keep an eye and ear out for him. You promised you would.
The first time your phone rang after Billy left was Tatum, confirming your presence at her house on Friday night—two days away. Agreeing, you wrote down her address, and wrote down a shopping list of supplies you’d need to have in order for it to be, in Tatum’s own words, a successful sleepover. A list including alcohol, weed, and nearly every movie with Tom Cruise in it.
The second time your phone rang was Ghostface, though you weren’t quite sure which one it was at first. The tone was dull and inviting, which initially led you to believe it was Billy, but one key detail led you to correctly guessing Stu—the slang.
“Dammit, he was right,” The voice changer off, Stu was clearly upset. “I guess I do have a way of talking.”
“Everyone does, Stu, it’s called dialect,” You tell him, but he ignores you, continuing to rant about how he doesn’t understand that people can figure out who you are based on what kind of language you use, or how you use it. “It’s kind of like how different actors can play different roles without coming across as the same person. It’s how people speak.”
“So like, how Johnny Depp is in fucking…Edward Scissorhands, and is also in Freddy’s Dead?”
“Kind of. You don’t think of Edward when you’re watching Glen on screen, do you?”
“No, I just see the character.”
“Exactly, it’s because the characters are fundamentally different from one another. You and Billy may operate on the same wavelength, but you two still have characteristics that make y’all unique.”
“Oh. I got it,” You giggled, and Stu joined in for a second. “Sorry, I’m kind of stupid.”
“Is that what Stu stands for?” You teased, and you could practically feel Stu’s comeback.
“No, it stands for Smart Terrific Unit,” He confidently confided. “And it means my parents definitely love me.”
“Do they have resentment towards you or something?”
“A bit, yeah. Ever since my younger sister died. My older siblings moved out of the house, and they kind of distanced themselves from it, too. They didn’t want to be home, they didn’t want to be near me.”
“Was her death your fault?”
“Not really, no. I was just being a negligent older brother, that’s all,” Stu chuckled a bit, but you knew it sounded kind of sad. You hadn’t realized that Stu had actually had to deal with death before, death with someone that he loved.
“My brother died,” You confided. “Not too long ago. And my stepfather. My biological father killed both of them, and then my mother shot him in self-defense.”
“Is that why you started…?”
“Yes, it is. As a form of control more than anything. I guess I just was tired of feeling powerless, so I started to take the power away from people, even if they had nearly nothing. It made me feel better, and it still does. I’m not sorry for it,” You tell him, and you could tell that this was the sort of conversation Stu hadn’t had in a very, very long time.
“So does that mean you won’t stop?”
“I don’t know,” You confessed. “I might, I might not. Not right now, that’s for sure, but once I’m older…who knows? I might become the world’s most prolific serial killer.”
“Naw, that’s the title Billy and I are after. Ghostface is gonna rule the world.” Billy and him. The terrific two. The dynamic duo. The terrifying twins. They weren’t including you in their plans. You felt something like sadness. “What if I joined in?”
“What, you start killing like us? Wearin’ the mask and shit?”
“Yeah, just for a few kills. What if we start planning massive kills, together, and confuse crowds? It’s not like we’re going to get caught if we’re careful.”
“We’d have to run it by Billy, the dickwad likes to control everything,” Stu laughed, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe this weekend after the Slumber Party Massacre?”
“Sure, we’ll run it by him. I don’t see the harm in that—but there’s gonna be harm later.”
“Are you excited to kill Tatum? Do you have a motive?”
“Not really—just peer pressure. I’m far too sensitive. She’s also a bitch and a whore—she cares too much about her appearance and reputation to be anything other than a shallow cunt.”
“Why date her?”
“Get close to Sid and ‘em. Y’know that’s who we’re after, right? Sid. Tatum’s murder is just gonna be because she’s friends with the wrong kind of people.”
“What are we gonna do with Randy?” “Randy?” Stu mused. “Billy’s got something in mind for him. I guess Bill doesn’t like how close Randy’s gotten to you, and if I’m being honest, I don’t either.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
“He looks at you like you’re a goddamn fleshlight,” Stu deadpanned, his tone flat. “And I, personally, do not like it.”
“Is there any reason?” You twirled the phone cord around your finger, liking the way this conversation was going.
“If there was, I’m not telling you,” Stu said decidedly. You decided you wouldn’t push him to answer you—if Billy’s display to you earlier was anything to go off of, both killers had a particular spot in their hearts for you, and you were going to use that to your advantage, even if you knew, deep down, you had feelings for them as well.
“Ah. Well, Billy said he’d call me tonight, and I guess I kind of owe him that,” You tell him, and you could sense Stu’s tension.
“Why not just meet up with both of us tonight?” He asked, and you had to stifle a laugh.
“My mom would fucking slaughter me,” You tell him, and he kind of made a small whining noise at the other end of the phone. “If you want, you can come over.”
“I might take you up for that,” Stu said, and you weren’t sure if he was entirely joking. “Might even bring Billy.”
“And what would we even do? Plan a murder?”
“Pay our pal Randy a little visit.”
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
It was nearly a quarter to one in the morning when you, Billy, and Stu finally all met up at your house. Billy brought the famed ladder, and he and Stu climbed up to your window, where you let them in. This time, both of the boys brought bookbags filled with things you knew were instruments to aid their destruction. You had the same thing as well.
“As you know, Stu and I are Ghostface,” Billy began, and Stu looked like he was trying to stop himself from laughing. “And you’re going to become one of us.”
“Is this a fucking cult?” You playfully asked, and Billy hushed you.
“Now, you’re going to prove yourself to Stu and I tonight. Randy’s home alone, and will be for the next three days. Tonight, you will go and kill Randy, by methods Stu and I employed to Casey and her boyfriend. If the murder is successful, you’ll be allowed to wear one of these,” Billy pulled a mask out of the bag, and another identical one. Stu took out his mask, and started aiming it around like a slingshot. “Don’t dick off with those, Stu, I don’t know if I can find other ones.”
“Lighten up, they���re like five bucks a pop,” He aimed it at Billy and let go, but surprisingly, Billy caught it.
“You’ve lost mask privileges tonight, Stuart,” Billy said, pocketing the mask. “Anyways, you’re going to kill Randy, and we’re going to guide you through what to do. These ain’t your normal killings, they’re fun, gruesome, and belong in a movie of their very own.”
“In other words, you’re Michael Myers wannabes with a phone connection?”
“No—we’re artists,” Stu collapsed on your bed, his shoes on your comforter. You held your tongue from saying anything, even though you wanted to scream at him to get off your bed with his musty crusty dusty ass shoes on it.
“Okay, so what? Am I going to prank call Randy, freak him out, torture him, chase him around a bit, cut him up, scare him to death, then stab him and take his organs out and hang them on the clothesline?”
“Something like that, sure,” Billy eyed you, not suspiciously, but carefully. Wondering to see how you’d fair tonight. He knew you weren’t an amater killer, hell, you’ve done it more times than he and Stu. But he knew yours lacked fanfare. Yours lacked style. You were a teenager with a knife, they were teenagers with a cunning plan. And now you were involved in this plan, and he wanted to see if you were capable of doing your duty and making this plan succeed.
“We’ll start heading out a two, I want to kill him at roughly three-thirty,” You suggested, and the two of them nodded. “What do you want to do in the meantime?”
“Get to know you better, babe,” Stu slung his arm around you jokingly, but surprisingly to him, you didn’t move. You watched Billy carefully as you did this, noticing the peculiar glance in his eyes that made you realize that perhaps, Billy had feelings for multiple people in your bedroom.
“We could watch a movie,” You offered, and Billy shook his head.
“Nothing interesting. You’d put on some fucked up 20’s movie knowing you,” He clicked his tongue twice, indicating that he’d thought of something. “What about we play spin the bottle?”
“There’s three of us, that’s a party game,” You pointed out, giggling. Stu nudged you, indicating that you should shut up, or perhaps suggest something different that didn’t involve kissing. “Truth or dare?”
“That’s a girl’s game,” Stu wrinkled his nose in disgust, moving his arm from you. He got up, and trodded towards Billy, and flung his arms around him. “We’re men.”
“You’re a fag,” Billy deadpanned, but he didn’t move. Stu hung off of him like a deadweight, yet Billy did not attempt to remove the boy. You curiously stared at them.
“Maybe we could bake?”
“Isn’t your mother home?” Billy asked, and you shook your head.
“You two suck at stalking. She’s gone tonight, she’s out with some dude. I don’t know who he is, though, and quite frankly don’t care. She’s out of my shit and I stay far away from hers.”
“We kind of gave up on you,” Stu admitted, and Billy hit him in the back of the head.
“Don’t admit shit like that, idiot,” Billy said. He turned towards you. “Don’t worry about him, doll. He’s just a little talkative when there’s murder in the room.”
“Right. Well, wanna see my knife collection?” You offered, and the boys looked like they’d just won the lottery.
“Hell yes!” Stu lept up from his sulking place, and ran over to your side. Billy joined you two as you opened the doors of your closet, revealing two swords hung up on the wall, and a bin full of knives, all with their sheaths on.
“Holy fuck.”
“You really are the Knife Girl,” Billy said, his tongue in his cheek. You hadn’t seen the expression on the boy’s faces before, but you assumed it was as close to pure joy as they could feel.
“No shit, I didn’t get that nickname for nothing,” You stepped away, letting them look at the blades in awe. “I don’t kill with the majority of those.” They didn’t seem to care, though. You watched as they took blade after blade, finding the ones that best suited their hands, finding the ones that were pretty or sharpest or the ones that you most liked. They found your murder blades, the knife they got you, and all sorts of other sharp objects. They liked it. You could tell this was an intimate moment for the three of you.
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
Three rapidly approached, and the three of you had to start moving to Randy’s house for that night’s murder. Dressed in the Ghostface gear, you clumsily went down the ladder, nearly tripping at a few parts. The long robes of the killer costume was a tripping hazard, and you briefly wondered why they hadn’t mentioned it, until you remembered you were using Stu’s robes, and he was nearly a foot taller than you. It wasn’t a hazard for them.
You crept through the night, joining the boys in the backseat of Stu’s car, and started your drive to Randy’s. The car was silent, but the boys were in their element, though nobody dared to speak a word. Everyone knew the familiar buzz you’d get before you took a life. It was something that was addicting, and you knew it with every bone in your body. You relished the feeling of taking life, and you knew that Billy and Stu felt the exact same way.
You pulled up to the house, which was a small two-story one situated on top of a hill. The flowerbeds were neat and tidy, the house a light white color. The front porch lights were on, and you could see the light on in what you assumed to be Randy’s room.
“Call him,” Stu whispered, handing you the phone. You dialed Randy’s number, surprised that you remembered it at all. “And make sure the voice changer is on.”
You did as you were told, and began your speech to make Randy afraid. Terrified. You could hear his amusement at first, when you asked him his favorite horror movie. You could hear the first tremblings of his breathing when you asked if his bedroom was the one with the light on. You could hear the pounding of his heart as you knocked on the back door, and you could hear how he was absolutely afraid when you, Billy, and Stu knocked from different entrances.
“Get the fuck away from my house,” Randy’s voice was shaky, and you knew you struck a chord with him. “Get the fuck away before you get hurt.”
“Funny thing to say when you’re the one who wants to die.” You taunted, and threw a rock at the window, breaking it. You could hear the yelp on Randy’s end even without the phone. “Randy, do you want to play a game?”
“What the fuck do you want man—what the fuck,” Randy’s desperate pleas on the other end excited you, made you drunk with power. You were in control of the variables here. And Billy and Stu were here to guide you.
“Play a game with me, Randy,” You hear him move in the house, grabbing a kitchen knife. If there was any chance of getting injured, you knew Billy or Stu would step in. They didn’t want to see you get hurt. “Let’s play hide and go seek. If I find you, you die. I’ll count to…hm, let’s see. Is forty seconds enough? Yes, I’ll count to forty seconds. If you hide and I do not find you, you win. If I find you, you’re dead.”
“What the hell,” You could hear Randy crying at the other end, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed this with every fiber of your being, and you wanted to keep this going as long as possible. Stu looked at you, and slipped his mask on. Part two of the plan.
Randy stood no chance of surviving. Realistically, there were far too many of you and only one of him, and he had no experience with anything of this caliber before. One of you would enter the house through each of the entrances, and once you found Randy, you were to whoop or holler or make some kind of noise to alert the others. Once the others are alerted, the three of you are to kill Randy at once, a frenzy of attack.
The third part of the plan was stringing his insides out on the clothing line. This was your added touch, a small detail of gruesome carnage that made Billy swear he would have kissed you right there and then.
You had the front door, and you carefully went inside. The house was still, silent. You paid attention to try and hear any breathing. There weren’t many hiding spots, and you knew Randy might’ve gotten creative. You prayed that one of the boys found where Randy was.
Luck was not on your side. You whooped as you spotted Randy ducked behind a couch, and the two other whoops let you know they were on their way. Scuttling out from behind the couch, Randy tried to attack you with a knife, but you tripped him, causing him to fall. The knife fell from his grip, and you kicked it away from his reach.
Your knife went down on him nearly at once, right in the shoulder blade. Deep. It was joined by a second knife, Billy’s, which was aimed at the back of his neck. Stu was only a few seconds later, plunging his knife into the other shoulder. You started to take your knife out, twisting as you went, Randy’s screams and cries of horror and pain motivating you to do more. You started to stab at his back, hearing the cracking of his ribs encouraged you to do more. Still alive, you heard Randy’s breathing take a sharp inhale as you stepped on his back with all of your strength, lodging your knife deeper within his body. Billy tapped you on the shoulder. Phase three.
You took your knife out of Randy, which took some effort, and you and Stu flipped him over. Randy was still alive, barely moving as Stu undressed him. Completely naked, Randy’s eyes were like a deer’s as Billy placed his knife right above a nest of pubic hair, but then stopped, and looked at you, as if to tell you that this was going to be your kill. You put your knife where Billy’s was just moments ago, relishing the feeling of having someone under your mercy like this. The boys watched as you slowly started to carve your way through Randy’s body, and Randy started to move his arms down to stop you. Billy and Stu lodged their knives in his arms, trapping him to the floor. You made a cut across Randy’s body, and then made the killing blow: ripping his throat out, leaving the blood splatter to the floor. Upon the death of Randy, Billy was the first to speak.
“Do you want to gut him or will Stu and I?”
“I’d like to help,” You said, already starting to poke around in the chest cavity with your blade. “After all, doing laundry is a woman’s job.”
“Spoken like a real one,” Stu joked, and joined you with poking in Randy’s body. You two cut out his stomach and intestines, and handed them to Billy, who put them in a yellow laundry basket that he found upstairs while you were searching for Randy just moments before. Various parts of Randy made it in the basket, including his heart, but Billy took it out of the basket.
“We should leave this in his parent’s room, don’t you think?” The grin on his face was sinister, and you nodded alongside Stu. Billy chuckled, putting the basket on the floor. “Finish gutting him. I’m going to set up a surprise for the happy couple.”
You and Stu did as you were told, finishing emptying Randy’s body. You weren’t sure of their plan with the main body, just that your job was now in action. Stu finished up, placing the last organ in the basket. You stood up, shaking the blood off of your robes and taking the basket to the backyard, where you hung them up with clothespins.
Stu, meanwhile, was carefully arranging a flower display in the corpse of Randy. He was giggling as he did this, moving the body to lay on the couch, and adding the displays of flowers Randy’s mother kept around the house in the chest cavity.
Billy was upstairs, arranging Randy’s heart on a silver platter, with a fork and a knife on either side of the plate. He joined the two of you downstairs, inspecting the handiwork.
“I think we’ve got ourselves a new partner,” Billy said, watching you hang the intestines up. “She’s good.”
“I like her,” Stu said, giving Billy a small kiss on the cheek. Billy nodded, and placed one on Stu’s forehead. “She’s got balls.”
“She’s going to need them for Friday’s murder,” Billy stepped outside. “We’re going to go, alright?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” You grinned at them, and the three of you went in the car, taking the stuffy robes off. You weren’t quite sure how Tatum or Sidney would react to the death of Randy, but you sure as hell were looking forward to the publicity of the body. Your handiwork was going to be on television. A dream come true for a girl like you.
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-> Part 7
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vaspider · 6 months
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Hi Spider!
Firstly, I’m very sorry you have to deal with all those difficult people in your posts.
Second, could we possibly hear the tale of your ancestor Shotgun Shorty? And great grand pappy who ran off the priest?
If you don’t have the spoons no worries!
Hey look, I'm avoiding real work by answering very old asks and pretending that counts!
(It does count. Shh.)
Shotgun Shorty was my great-grandmother, and the man who ran the priest off of his farm (repeatedly) was my great-granddaddy. They were married to each other and immigrated from Poland together; we suspect, but cannot presently prove, that Agnes may have been born Jewish. (I've done as much poking and prodding about the topic as I can without actually going to Poland, I think, and it only matters so much to me, because I'm Jewish regardless.)
Anyway, they came over to the US shortly after the turn of the 20th century with my great-grandmother's sister & settled in central Pennsylvania. She ran the farm with her sister and the kids who weren't in the mines and had over a dozen children -- I think the final count was fifteen? -- and I think about 2/3 of them made it through childhood, and he worked in the coal mines and also ran the farm. My granddaddy was a breaker boy as a kid (though I grew up hearing it called being a 'picker'). Neither one of them spoke much English and my granddaddy wouldn't let my dad learn whatever they spoke, so most of these stories come through my granddaddy and his siblings to my dad and then to me.
So as you'll note from that little recounting above, most of the time, my great-grandmother and her sister were the adults at the farm. Great-grammy was built like a little teapot - short and stout - and was by all accounts both an absolute force of nature and... let's say "not too enamored of the Catholic Church." I have been given several different reasons why over the years, but suffice to say that neither she nor her husband liked the Catholic Church very much at all.
The nickname Shotgun Shorty started the day that my grandmother chased a vicious dog off the farm with her shotgun, and from there forward, if strangers showed up on the farm, she'd meet them on the front porch, all five feet nothing of her, barefoot, with her shotgun. Stories vary on whether she ever actually fired the thing at anybody, but I have heard multiple stories of warning shots. Again -- it was her and her sister and the kids during the day.
And then there's this guy.
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He hated the Catholic Church. He especially hated priests. No, I don't know exactly why -- though, given the things we theorize about my family, I have my guesses -- I just know that he did. He especially especially hated priests asking for money.
And that is how, despite never having been Catholic, my great-grandfather was supposedly excommunicated after the third time he chased a priest off the farm who showed up asking for donations. No, not with a shotgun, that was the province of my great-grandmother. Great-granddaddy chased the priests off of his farm with a pitchfork. Why they kept coming back, I suppose we'll never know, since they're all dead now.
Sometimes I kinda wonder if maybe it was some sort of hazing ritual for new priests or something. "Oh, yeah, sure, go ask up at that farm, they love priests up there!"
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An excerpt from my unfortunately likely very belated birthday fic for @wynnyfryd my beloved:
It’s not like there’s a definitive set of tracks that Eddie’s on the wrong side of, but there’s something about being in Loch Nora, driving through the suburbs of these rich-y rich neighborhoods that made his skin crawl. Like he’s wearing a huge neon red sign that says I’m not supposed to be here. But there are a few things he’ll venture out to Doucheville for.
The main one being money.
Okay — the only one being money. But who was he to turn down practically double his normal rates simply because Heather Holloway was too prissy to meet in the woods? Whatever, for that much extra cash he’d throw in home delivery just this once.
Of course, because nothing in Eddie’s life is fair or easy, it backfires. Not in the lack of payday kind of way, he thinks, patting the thick roll of cash newly stuffed into his back pocket. That part had gone just fine. Heather had played her part of the stuck up cheerleader and Eddie the scummy drug dealer and yada yada everybody went home happy.
It backfires more in the almost crashed his van into a tree and died simply because he’s a horny idiot kind of way.
Because the universe apparently decided that Eddie, who’d literally promised himself that he was no longer going to be an obsessed freakazoid over Steve goddamn Harrington, must be tested, must truly suffer. Why else would right now be the exact moment in time he drives past the guy while he's clearly on a run and sporting a pair of nearly indecent length running shorts coupled with a — jesus h. christ — a Hawkins High Marching Band t-shirt cut into a crop top revealing a gloriously thick treasure trail. And muscles. So many muscles.
The universe clearly wanted Eddie to die.
And now Eddie has to sit here, rubbing awkwardly at the bruise he definitely feels blooming on his forehead from the unfortunate whack it’s taken against his steering wheel. Because, as mentioned — idiot. He has to sit here while Steve fucking Harrington peers into his open window with this unfathomably sweet look of concern on his stupid angelic face that makes Eddie, for a moment, kinda wish he was dead. Especially because his brain decides, “There was a squirrel!” is the best thing to blurt out when Steve asks if he’s okay. The hasty, “I mean, I’m fine,” Eddie adds after definitely helps sell it a lot. He can tell by the way Steve’s brow is all furrowed in a stupidly cute stupid way.
“I dunno, man,” Steve says (and Eddie definitely does not stare as he watches a single bead of sweat drip down the slope of Steve’s throat, over those pair of freckles Eddie absolutely hasn't thought about sinking his teeth into), "I kind of have a lot of experience with head injuries and that looked like it hurt. Are you sure –"
"Why do you care?"
Steve's worried expression crumples into something steely that just makes Eddie feel like even more of a dick than he knows he's already being. "I just know how shitty concussions can be, sorry for worrying about you, I guess --"
Fuck. Eddie sighs. It would be so much easier if Steve was the jerk Eddie'd always thought he was instead of what he's really turning out to be, which is such a fucking sweetheart that Eddie can't help but want to do a lot of really, really not sweet things to him. "Shit, no -- I'm being an asshole. Maybe chalk it up to that possible head trauma you're worried about?"
Steve is quiet for a moment, but then that look of cool detachment disappears, and he smiles, all gleaming white teeth, and it feels like watching the fucking sun splitting through storm clouds or some shit. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Eddie blinks and sees that Harrington's got his middle finger up, flipping him the bird with such a smug little smirk on that pretty face that Eddie can't help it. He laughs. "Cute."
"You really think so?" Maybe it's the heat. That's gotta be it, Eddie thinks, watching how Steve's cheeks flush, watches as it spreads down past his throat, past those tufts of chest hair poking up teasingly past the stretched out collar of his borrowed t shirt.
The t-shirt Steve had so clearly borrowed from Robin. Robin, who was supposedly Harrington's girlfriend. The image of Robin from earlier in the cafeteria that day wearing Steve’s letterman jacket flashes across his mind and he has to bite him own tongue to stop himself from wincing.
Eddie's gonna throw up. Maybe he does have a concussion after all.
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