#‘it’s not the killing it’s just the blood’ yeah uh huh the blood from the people being fucking stabbed and murdered

[angelltheninth]

I know Adam is a prick but he's so hot! I can just imagine him fucking his lover before extermination for good luck or some dumb excuse he'd come up with.

He's such an ass, you're right Anon, and very hot.

Pairing: Adam x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation, creampie, breeding kink (duh it's Adam), no actual pregnancy, bragging

Word count: 0.5k

A/N: I should fucking hate this guy but he is so much fun.

"Get on my dick babe, we don't have a lot of time." Adam pulled you towards him by your ankles, his huge hands fully engulfing them. "Which is your fault by the way. Insisting on coming before I put it in. You're lucky I even wanna fuck your selfish cunt after you got snappy with me."

"You weren't complaining. Funny that." Your remarks would get you into so much trouble. The best kind of trouble.

Adam scoffed, his mask flickering in annoyance, "You should really learn when to shut the fuck up. From now on all I wanna hear from you is my damn name!" He pushed his cock in with no warning or care. A wicked grin spread across his face when he felt your pussy around him, "Tight. Even after you came. No problem, I like them tight for my dick. Gonna spread you open, hell yeah, gonna ruin this hole."

His soft belly pressed against you with every thrust, your legs open wide for his hips to press against yours fully. With every thrust he slammed in balls deep, said balls, slapping against you.

"You gonna drain these balls, huh babe?" One of his hands pressed over your stomach. "I can almost feel my dick slamming into you. What do you say, wanna get pregnant today? Let all the other Exorcists know you're a slut who drools over my fucking dick. God I can just imagine the look on Sera's bitchy face."

"Don't get so full of yourself, sir." Making you pregnant was impossible. As far as you knew at least.

"Nah. That's gonna be you. Say it. Say you want the First fucking Man to put a baby in you. Fucking say it bitch!" His sharp nails dug into your skin, leaving marks. "Be a good slut for me. Don't make me make you make- uh... I'm gonna make you come on my dick! Hell yeah bitch!" He was such a pussydrunk asshole and refused to admit it. His cock was doing enough on that front.

He was close, he just needed to hear those magic words he demanded from you. You glanced at the clock, it was almost time for the Extermination.

"How about you creampie me for good luck?" You appealed to one of Adam's biggest kinks as you pushed your breasts out for him to grab immediately.

His gloved fingers rubbed your nipples, "I think I just might. You're gonna go out and kill some damn demons with my cum dripping down your legs. Let all of Hell know whose bitch you are." Adam pushed his cock in fully with one final roll of his hips, spilling his cum in your pussy. You groaned at the hot feeling, your legs clenching around his wide hips to ground yourself against him. "Told you that you were gonna come on my dick." Adam grinned widely.

"You were right. As always." You patted the bottom of his mask, "Now kindly get off me, I need to wash up before the Extermination begins."

"Wash up? Oh. Oh no, I was being serious when I said you're gonna go out there with your pussy leaking my cum. But you did do okay, so I guess you can wear the full uniform too. It's gonna make it hotter when I rip it off you later." Your pussy fluttered around him, "You want it already. Greedy, greedy. Not as hot without the demon blood though, so make sure you get a lot of them."

"Yes, sir, I'll make sure to do a good job for you." Maybe even get a promotion which would earn you more free time with Adam.

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel smut #adam imagine #adam headcanons #adam smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel #x female reader

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐦

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. a lot of words.

fic masterlist previous part pt eight next part

violence + blood + injuries; making out; suggestive content; my god whew — miguel’s hand raises to…what? you don’t know, because the spider society’s alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fights…masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your ‘help’ clearly displaying anger and well…worry, something unexpected happens…you both getting as close as you did before…maybe closer?

You’re still staring at Miguel, staying close. Closer than you probably should be. And just as his hand reaches up to…to what? What was he going to do?

Because now the alarms are sounding. Followed by the cries of spider-people. You quickly whip your head to the door. And at first Miguel doesn’t look away from you. As if the word ‘emergency’ isn’t registering in his brain. No. He keeps his eyes on you, his lifted hand having to drop away as you rush to the door.

Miguel clenched his jaw, cursing the whole idea of having an ‘emergency bell’.

You’ve reached the door and then the hallway seeing mayhem. Everyone is running (or more so webbing) around, as a fire had started in the centre.

Miguel is soon joining you, just as you spot Miles and Hobie running up. “There you are, mate.” Hobie sighs in relief, grabbing your shoulders as he goes to move you.

“Wh-“ You look around. “What’s going on?”

Miguel narrows his eyes on Hobie’s hands. He knows now’s really not the time to feel petty, but part of him wants to break his ringed fingers. Hobie moves you with him further down the hallway. “If they recognise ya, they’ll wanna kill ya, luv. So, let’s maybe go…ay?”

Your eyes widen. “Kill?! What? Why?”

Miles is hot on both your heels. Miguel not far behind him. Then Miguel notices Miles, brows slightly furrowing. “Why are you here?” He asks, making Miles glance back.

“Uh…I was invited.” He says slowly.

“Uh huh.” He eyed the kid. “By who? Gwen?”

Miles gulps at the look Miguel is giving him. “Yeah…”

“Mm.” Miguel hums, looking distasteful as he walks past Miles, catching up to you and Hobie. “Now we’re letting anyone in?” He mutters to himself with a small scoff.

“Hobie, what happened?” You ask, as he continues to move you, his grip staying on your shoulders. He brings you to the tech room, it appearing empty. You look behind you at the way you came. “I didn’t know you could get here through there.” You mutter.

“Lyla.” You hear Miguel say, her appearing by his shoulder. “What is this?” Though the look Miguel is displaying makes you feel as though he already knows.

“An attack on HQ.” Lyla says, beginning to tap away at her little screens.

“Okay, there are way too many of them.” You hear Pav say, running into the room.

“We held them off as much as we could.” Gwen is close behind. “But their strong. Like freaky strong.”

“Y/n!” Pav exclaims, bringing you in for a hug.

“Oh—“ You weren’t expecting the hug, everything happening so fast, as you slowly pat his back.

“Where were you?” He sounds concerned.

“I was just…” you drift off, licking your lips. “Gwen, whose really strong?” You quickly look to her.

“You remember the men who attacked last time? The one’s with the masks?” Gwen asks, to which you slowly nod, catching on.

“They’re back?” You ask. Gwen nods.

“But they look different.” Gwen’s says—her having seen the ones who attacked you and the tech room when they were in pools of their own blood, curtesy of Miguel. “They’re…”

“Bigger.” You mutter, picturing the masked men that were in Miles’ universe. “Better suits? Strangely taller?” You ask her.

“Yeah…”

“They’ve upgraded.” You mutter.

“Which means they aren’t here for a tiny thief job.” Miguel says, walking past you all to one of the only computers that didn’t get smashed. He pauses though, licking his teeth, as he mutters rather quietly. “Does anyone know the password?”

You hold back your amused smile, as you walk up to the computer. You lean down, tapping at the keyboard. The screen glitches a little, but for the most part it works.

“You’re looking for the security cameras right?” You ask Miguel, still staring at the screen. Lyla was clearly too busy to compute it, so you tap at more keys, bringing up roughly twenty different security camera images.

You zoom in on the middle three, displaying the fire and the masked men. Miguel leans over the desk beside you, staring at the screen. “They started the fire by smashing the tech there.” You point to a far spot on the screen, noticing the destroyed screens and machines.

Everyone had begun to surround the computer. “Why do they want to destroy tech?” Pav ask, as you shift your gaze to Miguel.

His gaze is focused on the screen, and more specifically on one specific ‘masked man’ . You narrowed your gaze on him. Where had he gone earlier? Has he met this guy? How does he recognise him? They all look the same to you.

Green woven—now metal—suits, but still those handmade masks…except now with added metal elements scattered randomly. “Miguel.” You say, making him shift his gaze to you.

You tilt your head, silently communicating that you know somethings up. The raise of your brows asks him why he isn’t voicing anything.

Miguel’s teeth are grinding as he stares at you, silently communicating back. You narrow your eyes upon understanding his expression as one showing he’s not going to voice anything. If he doesn’t have to anyway.

Hobie stares at you two for a moment, blinking. “Can you two read each others minds now? Is that what we’ve been missin’?”

You shift your gaze to Hobie, who’s standing, arms crossed. Then a rather loud scream makes all your heads whip to the computer. A masked man is holding up a spider-person by the throat. But what makes you want to puke is the way his claw is beginning to stab into the spiders chest and running down, tearing skin and other bodily flesh.

Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Miles are quick, rushing out of the room and assumably to the lobby, where the guy’s screams are easily heard. Other spider-people are trying to fight back, but the masked men seem to be knocking them down a little too easily. How are they doing that so easily?

You swiftly turn your gaze to the screen, eyes darting, as your chest heaved. “One of them took it, Miguel.” Lyla says, making you shift your gaze to him.

He’s moving away, most likely to get to the action to help as well. He meets your gaze. “Don’t you dare move.” He warns, before he’s slipping through the secret entry.

What did Lyla say? One of the masked men took what? You look back to the computer, wincing every time a spider-person got hit. Hard. You take note of one guy, his hits extra painful to watch—the one Miguel was staring at. You wanted to help. You wished you could help.

Then you hear the shuffle of metal making you spin. But your heart slows upon seeing Peter and Mayday. Wait…mayday?!

You rush forward, seeing Peter’s frantic expression. “Y/n, Thank god. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do.” He gesturing to Mayday.

“Peter why is she here?!” You’re extremely worried.

“I didn’t know an attack was gonna happen! I would have left her home.” He’s looking behind him, clearly knowing he has to help, but still holding tightly onto an unbothered, babbling Mayday.

You quickly grab her, pulling her into your arms. “Go.” You say. “They need you out there. Go.”

Peter looks hesitant, and you understand why. “I’ll hide.” You say, knowing he’s skeptical because you’re well…human and could barely fight back against those men. Especially if spider variants are getting knocked out.

“They won’t find me. They won’t find her.” You hold Mayday close to you, as she rests her head on your shoulder, her smile still present.

Then Peter is nodding. He trusts you. He knows you’re not one to be stupid. “Go.” You say again, and he moves, rushing out towards the action.

Your heart is beating on overdrive. Holding Mayday tightly, you turned back to the screen. None of your friends were knocked out, injured or…dead. But just as you go to find somewhere to hide—as you had promised, you noticed something.

A small machine, with a switch, it’s almost unseeable through the screen, but you catch it. That isn’t the spider-society’s tech. That’s from the masked men.

No. It suddenly clicks. Why all the spider-people were getting knocked out easy, why they could never sense when a masked man was l close. It was as if someone switched off their spider-sense and strength.

You felt Mayday lean away, using her own spider webs to attach to a farther desk, yanking you along the ground. “Mayday.” You hold her back. Now was not the time. Why did Peter give her her own webs?

You rip the web, pulling her back. “Mayday.” You say making your look at you, hair curling around her face. “You have to stay still. Okay? Just stay in my arms. Then how bout we play a game after?”

Her face lights up. You’d played these games with her, the main two being learning fun handshakes, and the other was hide and seek. “Alright?” You ask gently. She excitedly jumps in your arms. “You gotta stay still, though.” She stills, wrapping her arms around your neck.

You sigh, turning back to the screen. You can spot Gwen looking confused, clearly feeling the effects of not having a spider-sense. Then you spot Miguel. He seems unaffected by the change, noticing the masked men a lot quicker than the other spider people. Then you shift your gaze back to the switch.

The spider variants didn’t know. Shit, shit, shit. You had said you’d hide, to keep Mayday safe. But you can’t just do…nothing. Then you decide something incredibly stupid, like beyond a seeable level of stupid that could turn out terribly.

But you had to try. Because they weren’t winning out there. You pull Mayday away, making sure she caught your gaze. “Okay, Mayday…we’re gonna a play a game now. How’s that?”

She nods quickly, clapping her hands. “Alright…you remember hide and seek?”

She again nods at you, slightly playing with your hair. “I’m gonna count. And you’re gonna hide. Somewhere good. Really good.”

She begins to try and get out for yours arms, eager to play. “Mayday. Find somewhere really good.” She’d always been very good at choosing a hard hiding place. It always took you forever to find her. And you were counting on that.

Then you reluctantly let her go. You wouldn’t be long. You wouldn’t be. “One…” you pretend to cover your eyes, as you watch her waddle away through the cracks between your fingers.

You were stressed. This plan couldn’t go wrong. You wouldn’t let it. “Two…”

You were gonna reach that switch. “Three…”

And now you can’t see Mayday, knowing what direction she ran in, and roughly where she had hid, so that you could rush back to her. You had to be quick.

You ran towards the secret exit, grabbing a loose pipe. You’d rather go out there with a weapon. Loud sounds reach your eardrums when you made it outside the room, but you continued to run.

You couldn’t slow, or take your time. You rushed past spiders, thankful none are noticing you. Just stay unnoticed—you keep repeating to yourself. You reached the middle of the mayhem. And god was it hectic.

You couldn’t let Peter see you. You couldn’t let Miguel see you. You couldn’t let any of them see you. It’s as if you never came here. You ran, skirting past broken tables and machines.

Everything felt hot, the fire still partially there. You held back a scream as a tumbling, fighting duo nearly barrelled into you—it managed to knock away your pipe, but you couldn’t stop to dwell. The switch, the switch, the switch.

You slid to your knees, rushing under a table. You’ve almost gotten punched, and you’re sure a cut is bleeding. But you run, you can now see the switch, and also your friends. They look terrible.

You grit your teeth moving quicker. You’re so close. And just as you think relief is near, a body hits you, knocking you down. You wince, looking up to see a masked man. He tilts his head, blood coating his entire claw along with his suit.

You shuffle back along the floor, trying to get to your feet. But his boot comes down onto your chest, making you wheeze. “Aren’t you that chick who got away?”

“Different chick.” You wheeze out, scrabbling to get his foot off you.

“Nah, I remember the poster they put up in the lab. Your face is recognisable.” He presses harder against your chest. Your hand scrambles to the side, against the dirty floor. Find something. Anything.

Your hand finally clasps around a loose peice of metal. You tighten your hold, the sharpness cutting your palm. You swing your arm across, stabbing it into the guy’s calf.

It goes in deep, resulting in him lessening his boots hold. You manage to roll away, swiftly getting to your feet. He goes to lunge for you again, but your arm shoots out in a punch, right across his face. He stumbles slightly back.

But you seem to be more hurt then him. “Mother fu—“ you hiss, holding your now bruised knuckles. “Shit…why did I do that?” You mutter to yourself.

But you try not to dwell on the pain as you run past him and the others, finally reaching the switch. One hand is bloody while the other is bruised and you’ve never felt more relieved. You push the switch, a small whirring sound reaching your ears.

Then suddenly you catch sight of all the spider-people’s spider-senses turning back on, practically animated. But your relieved smile drops as practically all the masked men shift there gaze to you. Shit.

With all the turned heads, you catch Hobie’s turn as well. His spider-sense now taking note of you. His eyes widen in a mix of confusion, worry and anger? Wow you’ve never really seen him angry before.

Miguel takes note of you now as well now, as you shift your gaze to him, pressing your lips together as you breathe through your nose. Miguel’s expression is downright terrifying. You watch as he snaps one the masked men’s necks as he moves towards you.

You gulp, noticing some of the masked men move to you as well. You swiftly grab the small switch machine, and begin to back out of the room, or at least try to.

And just as a claw reaches for your face, an orange web yanks you aside, nearly making you tumble, but a tight hand wraps around your upper arm. “What the fuck are doing here?” Miguel lowly hisses out.

“Miguel— I have to go.” Mayday. You had to get to Mayday.

“No, no you can’t just go anywhere. You were already practically an enemy to these guy, but oh now they want to kill you.” He says this while slicing his claws across one of the guys throats—having tilted his head back to display the guys bare neck.

“Miguel.” You hiss. “Let go. I have to go.” You rush these words out.

But Miguel didn’t want to let go. You were bleeding, bruised, and almost dead. “Why didn’t you stay put? Why didn’t you stay goddamn put?” He growls.

You’re breathing hard. You had to go, and you didn’t have the time to explain. So you do the best thing you can think of. “I’m sorry about this...”

Your hand had reached for something on the a table, a plate, another peice of metal, whatever it was you knock it across his face. Not to cut, or harm, just so that his grip would loosen around your arm.

And it does, leaving you room to run. And god did you run—fast. You skirted past fighting people, the spider variants finally knocking some of the masked men down, now that the switch was off.

You reached the secret entrance, rushing into the tech room. You kept the switch machine close to you as you rushed to Mayday’s hiding place. You tried to slow your breathing, not wanting to freak her out. You wiped your bloody hand on your pants, wincing as your cut rubs against the material.

You didn’t want to scare her.

You reach the small cupboard type thing, having to lift yourself up. She had clearly webbed herself towards it. But with you being taller than her you managed. You took a breath. Pretending that you had been playing the entire time.

“Oh, Mayday.” You sing songed quietly. “I wonder where you are?”

You neared the closed cupboard door, hearing a faint giggle. You sigh in relief at the fact that she’s still here. You whip the doors open and you hear a small squeak. You scoop her up.

“Found you.” You said softly, earning now huffing giggles from her. She was okay. She was okay.

But then your heart drops. You hear heavy scuffing boots enter the room. No. Please no. Without thinking you rush into the cupboard, shutting the door.

Mayday begins to babble on about something, but you put her head into your neck. “Shh.” You shakily whisper. “Shh.” You stroke her hair. She moves a little, but luckily she begins to relax in your arms.

You can hear the taunting boots near. And you hold your hand over your mouth, quieting your heavy breathing. Please stay quiet Mayday, please stay quiet—you think to yourself, holding her closer to you, as you slide to the floor of the cupboard. It only just fit you both.

Then the door is getting harshly pulled open and your eyes widen. No, no, no. But then just as the masked man comes into view, his body is getting harshly lifted, his feet raising as blood bleeds out from his stomach. Your eyes widen.

Then he falls to the side, revealing a heaving Miguel. Your head knocks back against the cupboard back wall, as you hold Mayday tighter to you. You couldn’t let her see. Any of the blood, you wouldn’t let her see.

Miguel meets your gaze, just as Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Miles and Peter rush to a stop beside him, all staring into the cupboard.

You begin to shakily stand, still holding onto Mayday for dear life. You were scared. Your adrenaline slowly disappearing.

Peter rushes forward taking Mayday from you. He notices there isn’t a scratch on her and Peter is beyond relieved. “Make sure she doesn’t…see.” You say, sounding somewhat out of it as you blink, so your eyes would stay open.

Then Hobie is slipping his arm around your midriff, supporting your legs, as you gulped down arising tears. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of everyone.

“What the hell was that?” For once there is no joke in Hobie’s tone.

Your eyes a blurring, but you wanted to stay awake. You hated how much your body could exhaust. “You were supposed to stay up here.” Miguel is saying, his breathing still heavy.

You know that you arriving back to the tech room, alerted that now dead masked man of where you were.

For once Miguel doesn’t mind that Hobie is holding you. He’s helping you. And though Miguel would rather help you, his hands are covered in blood—Hobie having used his surroundings and web to mainly fight them, his hands being rather clean from the red.

You half heartedly chuckle. “You can just say thanks.” You meet his gaze, a small smile edging your lips.

“Are they…” You drift off, Gwen filling in.

“They left. They aren’t dead. Some of them are. But the others…left.” She says, making you nod.

“Thank god.” You mutter out, the pain finally feeling like it can catch up to you. “And fuck…” You slightly push off of Hobie, shaking your bruised hand. “When were any of you gonna tell me that punching someone really fuckin’ hurts.”

“Well, usually punching someone with a metal head tends to hurt.” Pav says, raising his brows slightly.

“Eh.” You chuckle, continuing to flex your hand.

;;

Miguel didn’t leave your side when you went to medical, you getting stitched, and mended.

“Don’t sleep in here.” He says, gazing around at practically every spider person. The medical was of course packed.

“But the fire reached my room—“

“Not mine.” Miguel says, already slipping his arms around your body—though he keeps his hands, for the majority, off of you. His hands were still covered in blood, though dry, meaning the blood wouldn’t taint you, he still couldn’t.

“That’s fine—“

“Shut up, and move.” Miguel wasn’t looking for your acceptance, taking you to his room.

;;

Once inside, he shuts the door, leading you to sit on his bed. As you did, he had slightly begun to pace the length of his room.

“What are you doing?” You ask, watching his stressful state. “Can you stop?”

He shifts his gaze to you, semi stopping. His body was still tense, his jaw clenched. “Sit.” You say, gesturing to the chair. You narrow your gaze until he obeys, moving the chair to face you, as he took a seat.

Glass still slightly littered the ground, the slight scratch marks on the chair staying easily visible.

You noticed for a moment that he couldn’t look at you. His gaze instead getting caught up with his wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing a thin…bracelet? It was covered in blood, and he had begin to fiddle with it, making your brows furrow.

“What’s that?” You ask. But he still doesn’t meet your gaze, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Nothing.” He says. But it wasn’t nothing of course. It was your bracelet, the one he had found in your rooms doorway, back in your universe when you had went missing.

“I didn’t know you were one to wear jewellery.” You speak light heartedly. But he barely reacts. “Miguel.” You say, sighing. “Can you at least look at me?”

And it’s the slight sadness in your voice that makes him. He looks up and you’re shocked to see a million different emotions swirling in his eyes.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, now not looking away from your eyes.

“What?”

“That.” He hisses lowly. “You were supposed to stay in the tech room.”

“Miguel you do realise that I couldn’t have just stood there and literally watched…right?” You ask, seeing his gaze flicker everywhere on your face. “I saw something important, and thought i should help.”

“But you shouldn’t have.” He says.

“Yes, I should have…” You stand up now. Miguel moves to stand also, but you hold your hand out, making sure he stayed seated. “I want to help Miguel. I want to be of help.”

“Yeah, well you being of help nearly got you killed.” He snarls.

“Exactly the same as all of you.” You say, stepping closer to his seated self. “You guys go through so much dangerous stuff all the time. And finally when I can actually help you hate me for it.”

“Because you’re—“

“A weak human, yeah I got it. But I wanted to help. And It worked…none of you guys are dead!” You exclaim, breathing heavy.

Miguel stares up at you, his breathing close to matching yours.

“That is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Miguel.” You say. “Help.”

“You almost died out there.” His voice had begun to soften.

“And so did you!” Yours hasn’t yet, though.

He couldn’t resist. Slipping his hand under your thigh he pulled you towards him, making your body tumble. He caught you by a second grip on your other thigh, making sure you landed in a straddle over his lap. His legs were still a fraction spread, which made yours naturally spread further around him. This satisfied Miguel’s want to keep those legs spread. Wide and open for him.

He pulled you even closer, your body sliding along his thighs, right up against him. Your heart was beating like a drum in your ears. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was breathe and stare. Stare at Miguel’s piercing red eyes that now practically told you everything he hadn’t voiced yet.

Miguel stared at you, his eyes seeming to hood over on their own. You were yet again, so close. He could taste your breath. And he wanted to. God did he want to.

He’s sure it would taste so sweet. You would taste so fucking sweet. His clawed hands stayed wrapped around your thighs, as he began to lean in, his eyes focused on your freshly wet lips, your nervous habit. You were nervous. He met your gaze once more, before darting his eyes down again. He couldn’t stop leaning in.

Your heart has stopped, having been beating rapidly in your ears. You want to gulp down your nervousness but Miguel is now so close to your neck.

His warm breath fans over your skin as his mouth opens a fraction. His hands ran up your body, to grip around your waist. Then he leaned in, his lips attaching to the side of your neck. You heard him hum, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

His hands begun to slip under your shirt, the feel of your bare skin making him go practically insane. He couldn’t believe it. He began to slowly litter small kisses—at first—his breathing growing heavier and heavier.

Your chest was heaving as he pulled you tighter to him, his lips now pressing harder against your skin. When they turned open-mouthed you could feel the drag of his fangs, his tongue coming down to soothe forming bruises.

Your head had begun to roll back, your hands tightly gripped onto Miguel’s shoulders. “I couldn’t let you die, cariño.” He whisper-groaned into your neck. His panting breath only occasionally felt, because he couldn’t back away from your skin.

His kisses began to lead up to your jaw. You were flushed, your body hot, everywhere. “Miguel—“ you breathe out.

“Shh, I just wanna…I just…” but he couldn’t even finish the sentence as he reached to hover over your lips. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his claws embedding themselves into your hair, as his other hand tightened a fraction around your waist.

Now you’re breathing hard, your eyes slightly glazed over, your mind utterly dazed as you stared at Miguel. “I just want to…”

You gulp. “Want to what?” You quietly asked, your own eyes flickering to his lips.

“I— carajo.” Was the last word he managed before his lips found yours, your head knocking back. Miguel wrapped his lips around your bottom, breathy groans easily escaping him, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His heart was beating on overdrive, nearly at a concerning tempo as he lapped at your mouth.

And god did you taste sweet. So fucking sweet. And he gets to feel you—have you. He doesn’t have a care in the world as long as you stayed this close. Right against him letting him keep you this close. Your tongue dragged across his bottom lip, soon finding his tongue. His head moved to push further against yours, as he swirled his tongue around your mouth.

Then your body slightly jolts. His hand that was gripping your waist had tightened to a point that his claws had cut you a fraction. Miguel immediately let your waist go, realising that his body’s reaction—tightening around you, was to make sure you wouldn’t leave. “I’m—“

But you’re cutting him off with another kiss, slightly raising on your knees, so that his head had to tilt up to stay kissing you. His hands slipped to wrap around your raised thighs. “Tell me you weren’t gonna apologise.” You spoke to his lips, leaning away a fraction.

But Miguel eagerly chased your mouth, managing to pull your head back down, with a swift grip to your hair. “Miguel—“

He shook his head, his lips brushing against yours. “If I say no, will you keep kissing me?” He tilted his head, lips still lightly brushing yours, as his tongue came out to lick your top lip. “Mm?”

“Yea—“ but Miguel cuts you off, kissing you hard as one of his hands stoked up and down your thigh. “Then I’m not sorry at all.” He muttered between kisses. He was addicted. That’s the simplest way to put it. Utterly addicted. “Dios…I’m not sorry.”

Your hands slipped around his neck, beginning to play with the ends of his brown hair, your fingers soon sinking to softly grip the strands. A breathy moan escapes Miguel’s lips at the feeling of your fingers, his mouth opening against your own. A small forming smile edged your lips at the reaction.

“Shut up.” He whispered, smashing his lips back to yours. His kisses had grown even more heated—if possible—spreading across your cheek, his nose brushing against your hair. “Dios, y/n, can I touch you…mm por favor…?” He asks, trying to pull your thighs back down onto him.

But you held your own, staying just out of reach—legs either side of him on the chair. When Miguel would much rather you pressed against him. Of course he was hard, aching almost painfully. “Y/n.” He lowly growled out.

You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up, as you teasingly pecked his lips. “I’ve never seen you beg, give me a moment to enjoy it.”

Miguel clenched his jaw as he harshly pulled your thighs further apart, making you gasp, landing right on top of him. He moved his hands to your hips, keeping you still, as his head slightly leant back at the feeling. “Mm…that’s it…” He whispered out.

You could feel his bulge right under you, making your core ache. Now you felt hot. And as you looked at a breathless Miguel, his chest heaving mismatched you couldn’t help but begin to slightly move your hips.

Miguel’s breathing hitches, his hands gripping your waist. “Y/n…”

“Shh.” You partially mocked, earning a small growl from Miguel. “Didn’t you say I had to do anything for you?” You moved your hips along him, grinding torturously. “This seems like it would certainly help.” Your tone is breathy, as your hips movements sends jolts through you both.

“For a…mission.” Miguel remembers the start of the deal—the conversation—correcting you, through heavy breaths. God, what were you doing…keep doing it.

“Which loosely means for you.” You copy his previous words.

His head slightly falls back. “Mierda, cariño…”

You go to place your hands on his chest, when his head comes back up, his grip slipping from your waist to your hips and managing to stop you. He leans towards your ear. “But do you really think I’m gonna let you grind on me like that? Make me pathetically reach my high with clothes…still on?”

Your breathing hitches. His hand reaches up your shirt again, but pauses by the side of your waist. Then before you know it, Miguel’s holding your thighs—wrapped around him—as he stands. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck thinking you would fall.

Miguel chuckles at the reaction, instead, effortlessly walking with you towards his bed. He leans forward, resting you down as his hands came to cage you in. You’re resting on your elbows, pushing a little higher up. Miguel leans even more forward, so that you’re forced to lean back with him.

“Lie back…eso es (that’s it)…that’s ma’ girl.” Miguel breathes, as your head rests back against his sheets. My girl. His girl. All of Miguel’s previous loud voices, the ones that had quietened when you hugged him have become one. Repeating the words—my girl, my girl, my girl.

my god, that was a trip. and finallyyyy! AHHH — I hope this is what you guys expected and hope you all liked it

I promise promise promise, I will carry on this smut on the next part <33 it was just getting so long—I couldn’t stop writing (I’m sorry guys I gotta keep eedging ya)

plus since it’s the last part (part 9) next, everything will be concluded, and all mysteries solved! coz that’s just plain cruel if I utterly leave you guys hanging

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright

taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6 taglist #7

#the miguel effect #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel fucking o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fic #atsv #atsv x you #across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #spiderman

[jellieland]

(Spoilers for. Real life?? I guess???)

---

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

Oh. No, nope, nevermind. They're just arguing again, aren't they.

"-don't know what you expect ME to do about it!" snaps the Red One.

"I don't know, Grian, how about literally anything?" asks the Scarlet Moon, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, you could at least tell us what's going on out there," says the Ruby Star. "I don't think that's too much to ask, Grian."

"Riiight, like that'll help," says the Bloody Victor, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Martyn, do you have to make this difficult every single time?" snaps the Red One. "Anyway, we've got loads of time to work this out. It's only just started, even if it was a bit earlier than I thought it would be," he grumbles, irritated.

"Oh! Look!" calls the Coquelicot Loner, from where he is peering away from their circle at something that would look, to anyone but the five present, entirely indistinguishable from any other patch of the universe. "They must be done! Someone's coming!"

"What?" The Red One frowns. "Don't be ridiculous, Scar, there's no way-"

A brilliant beam of starlight shoots down from the heavens, and tears through their little circle like a formula one car cutting through the middle of a picnic.

It leaves behind...

Huh.

What. What is that.

There is... a. Person? But the proportions are all wrong, nothing this world has ever seen before. The limbs are mismatched, twisted, not quite connected. The movement is... disturbingly smooth, except when it jerks and jumps at seemingly random moments.

Whatever they are, they regain their balance, look around, and... laugh. "Oh, hey guys!" they say. "You know, I really didn't think this counted. But here we are, I guess!"

"Mom?" says the Coquelicot Loner, squinting at her. "Why are you short?"

"Oh my god, Scar, you can't just ask people why they're short," says the Ruby Star, apparently on autopilot.

"Yeah, and, uh, not to be rude, but more like why are you an eldrich horror? But, like, more so than usual?" says the Bloody Victor, backing up and looking rather alarmed.

They raise an eyebrow. "Oh, we're doing this now, are we?" They shake their head. "You know what this is perfectly well. We did another game, and I won. Deeply surprising, I know, but here we are!"

The Scarlet Moon tilts her head. "I mean, not that it's not nice to have you here, I guess, but that seemed real quick for a whole game, Cleo."

"Yes, thank you Pearl," says the Red One, narrowing his eyes. "I quite agree. Just how violent WAS this one that it's already finished? And WHY was I not informed?"

Cleo laughs. "To be honest I don't think anyone expected it to matter. And, I mean, sure it was violent, they always are, but it was all pretty light-hearted to be honest! Not a lot of drama, you know." She looks around, and seems to remember something. "Oh, Scott, I let a zombie kill you at the end! Sorry about that, I didn't realise quite how low you were. It was pretty funny, though."

The Ruby Star blinks, and shrugs. "I mean, fair enough. Hey, that means Divorce Quartet is all here, now!"

The Coquelicot Loner squints. "...Does that make you my stepdad, Scott?"

"No," says Cleo.

"God no," says the Ruby Star. "For, just, so many reasons."

"Yeah, I am not doing that again," says Cleo.

"So... So, hang on," says the Red One. "You're saying, in your game, it was all just. Cool and fine and calm. No pain or blood or sacrifice. No agonising entangled web of alliances. No cold-blooded, cold-hearted backstabbing?"

("Hey!" says the Bloody Victor.)

"I mean there was plenty of blood, technically. And Martyn did sort of try to stab everyone in the back and then run away."

("...Yeah, ok, fine," says the Bloody Victor.)

"But no, not much emotional turmoil, all in all! It was pretty chill, really!" They glance around the circle. "It was nice to see Ren again, too! I think he was off roleplaying with Martyn most of the time, though."

"I'm going to kill you," says the Bloody Victor, despairingly. "How is that fair?!"

"Life isn't fair," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh, you-"

"Can you shut up for five minutes," snaps the Red One.

As the bickering continues, the Coquelicot Loner and Ruby Star sidle up to Cleo, avoiding her wavering, eldritch outline.

"So!" says the Coquelicot Loner. "How's dad?"

Cleo gives him a look. "Scar," they say.

He holds up his hands. "Ok, ok! Just asking!"

She shakes her head, not without affection. "Is this really all you do here? Just stand around and irritate each other?"

"No!" says the Coquelicot Loner, seemingly deeply offended.

"Yeah, pretty much," says the Ruby Star.

"Ok well that's stupid," says Cleo.

"Yes," says the Red One, having extricated himself from the continuing altercation between the other two. "This is extremely stupid." He claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention and finally ending the argument, for now. "All in favour of erasing the past few minutes from existence and pretending none this ever happened?"

"Aye," says everyone but Cleo.

"What," says Cleo.

"It means you get to go home and you don't have to stands around in a circle with us lot for the rest of eternity," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh. Yeah, definitely do that," says Cleo.

"Wonderful," says the Red One, and clicks his fingers.

...

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

The Coquelicot Loner speaks. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it! Do you-"

"I thought we just agreed that didn't happen, Scar," snaps the Red One.

Oh, ok. Alright, they're arguing again.

Yeah, we probably don't have to stick around and listen to this any longer, either. I don't expect it's going to change anytime soon.

#real life smp #life series #grian #pearlescentmoon #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #zombiecleo #my writing #trafficfic

[kisses4choso]

# CHEATING? ON ME? WITH HIM?

SYNOPSIS: misunderstandings -> jealousy WARNINGS: suggestive, gender neutral, super long drabbles, cheating (doesn't actually happen), misunderstandings, toji is toxic, a little angsty with geto, nanami's a little corny CHARACTERS: TOJI, GETO, NANAMI

NOTE: in celebration of JJK winning 6 awards! PART: 1...

the clock hit ten p.m. right as TOJI stepped into your house. he said he would be late, and he wasn’t lying. it was what he expected. until his plan got called off by his handler; somebody had beat him to the mission.

it was a pain in the ass, he’d be making no money that day. but it meant he’d have the rest of the night— and you— to himself. or so he thought.

he entered the house as he normally would, with the key you always left in the potted plant by the front door. he took his shoes off (a habit he took up while living with you) and walked leisurely toward your bedroom, but his steps slowed down as he heard your voice from the other side of your door.

“… i mean, he’s not home right now. i don’t know where he is but he said he’d be back at 3,” you spoke softly into the phone, and he heard a muffled male voice come from the speaker. you smiled and continued, “i’ll be up anyway.”

you’ll be up anyway? what the hell would you be up for and why was it of any interest to the fucker on the receiving end? toji almost stepped forward and announced his presence, but you interrupted his train of thought with a laugh.

“he’d kill you,” you still hadn’t turned around to see the man at your door, and your voice seemed a little too carefree for his taste, “i promise i won’t tell him anything.”

toji had never been one for monogamous relationships. or relationships that went further than skin-to-skin connection, really.

yet, he couldn’t deny the way his blood boiled hearing your huffs of laughter as you talked to another man. behind his back at that.

he didn’t expect the pang of betrayal to hit him— he had forgotten that feeling long ago and vowed to never remember it. but…

“uh-huh, i'll call you later. bye,” you hung up and shook your head in amusement— but your smile immediately dropped and was replaced by sheer horror at the sudden feeling of a hand wrapped tightly around both your wrists.

you always felt toji before you saw him.

he had both your hands pressed together behind your back, preventing you from you turning around. he didn't want you to see the red that coated the tips of his ears or the twitch of his jaw.

he didn't need you to know he was fuming or that you had control over his emotions.

“toji— what the hell?” he snatched your phone with his free hand, and you didn't fight it, "when did you get home?"

he didn’t answer and instead scrolled through your call log.

toji tapped on your phone, and his eyes landed on your most recent call, “fuckin’ cute that you think an unsaved number hides anything."

he scoffed at your lack of reply and continued, "you gonna tell me his name or am i gonna have to call him?”

"what are you on about?" you tried to wiggle your wrists out of his grasp but he held on tighter, pulling you toward him in the process, your back to his chest.

"you really want this shit the hard way? fine, that's on brand for you," he dialed the number, waiting (not so) patiently for the man to pick up.

the other end of the line finally picked up, and the man didn't waste any time, "hey, finally heard back from him?"

shiu kong.

toji could recognize his handler's voice anywhere, unfortunately for him. but in the moment of shock, he failed to answer and let your hands go.

you turned around to face toji and spoke into the mic, "hi shiu, yeah, he's right here."

"fushiguro, i've been blowing up your phone cause i got a job for you for real this time. couldn't reach you so i thought i'd just call you through here. so, about the mission..."

you were about to shove past toji, but he hung up and threw your phone on your bed.

"shit, thought you were planning to fuck some loser 'til i got here."

you rolled your eyes, this is what you got for trying to help shiu out, "is that what this tantrum was about? don't trust me?"

and yeah, thinking about it from his perspective, the conversation sounded extremely suspicious. but his reaction was... somewhat endearing for someone who's supposedly 'non-chalant'.

toxic? sure. but you knew what you signed up for.

"can't trust anybody," he glanced at your hands, unsure of how to proceed. should he apologize? ice your wrists? they didn't look hurt. he didn't think he had seriously hurt you. or that he could ever hurt you, at least, not physically.

you took note of his lingering gaze, "i'm fine, you pinning my wrists behind me isn't anything new."

he exhaled in amusement, the call notifications from shiu serving as background noise, “you were right though. i'd kill him.”

“you’re not supposed to be here, y’know,” you frowned at the tall man in front of you. he was sweaty and in wrinkled clothes, like he had come straight from the gym or from a really good nap.

either way, he wasn't welcome at suguru's house (ever since he'd walked in on you two... bonding... multiple times). but you especially didn't want to see him that particular weekend.

GETO would be coming back from a long mission that day and you were not in the mood to see anyone else but your beloved.

gojo stuck his tongue out at you, “and you are? listen, i get that suguru's your boyfriend but you’re so greedy with him.”

“what... how are you calling me greedy?" he shrugged and walked past you into suguru's home. you scoffed as he took off his shoes, casually threw them next to yours, and headed straight to the kitchen.

“i never see him anymore, but when i do you always have your tongue down his throat," gojo threw you a disgusted glance from over his shoulder, "or worse, your tongue further south."

“wow, would you rather have your tongue down his throat?”

he ignored you, “anyway, do you have something to cool me down? it’s like 300 degrees outside.”

“we have ice cream bars in the freezer, but they’re sugur—“

at the words “ice cream”, gojo’s eyes seemed to gloss over and he quickly dug his hands into your freezer…

...on the other side of the door, suguru was taking out his keys.

but he found that the door was completely open.

it was strange, and he would definitely get onto you later for being so forgetful, but he was just happy to finally be home from that month-long mission.

he stepped into your home and the second thing he noticed was a man's pair of shoes next to your own.

then he heard your laugh resonate through his house, and another voice mocking your laugh.

geto took a step forward and then froze again when he heard seemingly lewd slurping noises and a yelp from you.

his heart dropped to his stomach. but you could be slurping noodles! maybe they were hot and you burned yourself or…

“you’re nasty— you’re such a messy eater, gojo.”

gojo? geto didn’t know whether to panic or be relieved. a part of him wanted to just walk in and trust that he would find you two eating soup of some sort.

but another, more twisted, part of him couldn’t shake off the disgusting feeling that crawled into his chest. the noises, the door, the shoes, your choice of words...

so he gave in and stood there, in the middle of the living room, just to ground himself. it seemed you two probably hadn’t heard him come in, and he was curious.

he didn’t know you two hung out without him. one on one. he wasn't even aware you liked gojo enough to laugh so loudly at his jokes.

he heard the shutter of a camera followed with your muffled laugh, and then gojo’s voice, “don’t send that to him— he says i have a habit of taking what’s his, and he’ll totally hate me.”

the conversation really, truly, could not get any more suggestive than that.

gojo continued, “you don’t wanna ruin our friendship, do you?”

ruin? could eating noodles with your friend's lover really ruin—

“aw, come on,” you insisted, “you got it all over your chin, is it sweet?”

all over his chin? sweet? he was gonna be sick.

"yeah, your boyfriend’s got good taste, huh?”

geto’s bag dropped from his hands and he coughed, trying to get rid of that pressure around his throat. your voices became muffled to him and he felt the all-too-familiar sour taste climb up his throat.

“an intruder?!”

“what? no— suguru’s home!” you smiled, hopping off your chair to greet your lover, but you reached the living room and he stood there, unmoving, his eyes shaky and bouncing quickly across your face and body before finally landing on your eyes, "suguru, you look so pale, are you okay?”

your hair looked neat. your lips weren't red or swollen. you were completely dressed.

the cute shirt he recalled gifting you flattered you perfectly and he looked down and spotted and fuzzy slippers you always kept at his place.

he felt his heartbeat still, and he spoke with an uncharacteristic rasp, "where is he?"

"who? gojo? ugh, in the kitchen eating all your ice cream! can you believe that? i was just about to send you a picture of the mess he made but he stole my phone."

geto swallowed thickly, "ice cream?"

"yeah, i'm sorry, i know it's your favorite," you reached out to push his hair out of his face, "is everything okay? you look tired, was the mission bad?"

he relaxed his shoulders, "yeah, 'm fine, why is... why are you here with him?

you shook your head, "i was here yesterday hoping you'd show up and gojo walked in earlier saying he was overheating and wanted something to eat."

satoru soon waltzed into the living room, chocolate painting the corners of his mouth, "hey, you're back. how'd it go?"

geto frowned at his friend's appearance, "went fine. now, get out."

"huh?!"

"you're banned from visiting, ever, especially when i'm not here."

"what?! are you serious? over a few ice cream bars? i'll pay you back! seriously, you two are so greedy."

geto checked him with a sharp glare, and his friend rolled his eyes, the chocolate on the corners of his mouth dragging down with his frown.

and when he finally left (not without a not-so-sly comment about you two "being safe" because he was "too young to be an uncle") geto finally wrapped his arms around you, using your scent as an anchor, "i'm sorry."

"for what?"

he shook his head, the horrible taste in his mouth long gone, "i'm stupid."

he didn't let you question him any further, placing a quick kiss on your nose, "let's catch up."

NANAMI stared at his phone's homescreen, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. it was early in the morning for him, and really late at night for you.

it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to text him late at night, especially while he was abroad, but the contents of the text made his heart squeeze.

♡: so we're on for next saturday?

his fingers hovered over the screen, and he forced himself to sit up all the way in the hotel bed. he could text you back, but you've always insisted that hearing his voice is "one-hundred and twenty-seven thousand times better".

then again, you had sent the text over two hours ago, when he was deep asleep, and he was sure it was way past your normal bed time. so, he opted for typing out a quick response.

did you mean to send me that?

i'm not back until the week after next.

to his surprise, you responded rather quickly.

♡: sorry, ken

♡: wrong person :(

♡: why are you up so early?

nanami stared at his screen and decided to call you instead. his phone rang once, twice, and then your voice was on the other end, "hi, is the hotel bed comfortable?"

"it's not as nice as ours."

he swore he could practically hear the smile in your voice, "really? guess you should come back soon then."

"just two more weeks."

"yeah, i know. i miss you like crazy though. like i ordered our favorite take-out yesterday but i accidentally ordered for two so i had to share with shoko."

cute, but that didn't shake off the weird feeling in his chest, "yeah? and why are you up so late?"

"oh, i was waiting for a text."

"ah. okay."

and it was radio silence after that. you picked at your nails and nanami cleared his throat.

"who," nanami cleared his throat again, a nervous habit of his, "who are you meeting on saturday?"

"i'm meeting gojo."

silence again. and then...

"one on one?"

"yup, we're planning the exchange program," you told him, and he sighed into the mic. your heart fluttered at the barely audible sound, and you wondered if you could get him to facetime you instead, so you could see him in all his glory: tired eyes and blond stubble.

but he spoke before you could, "on a saturday?"

gojo was stronger. the leader of a powerful clan. tall. a nice face and (albeit superficially) charismatic.

"yeah, i'm busy all week with the second years."

"do you think you could take utahime with you? or shoko?"

you laughed at his question. so that's what this was about. you had never seen your boyfriend jealous, so this was a first.

"hm, why?"

the man himself didn't know how to answer your question. it's not like he believed you would ever go after gojo. he wasn't exactly the most charming after getting to know him. but nanami couldn't lie, he had a certain appeal with people, although he'd never understand it.

so the best he could come up with was: "i... don't like how he looks at you."

you smiled at his shaky response, "you can't even see his eyes."

he whispered your name and you hated that you liked the desperation in his voice, "please?"

"is this you being jealous?" you pushed, and he groaned at your teasing.

he tugged on his pillow to put it into its place and put you on speaker, "don't make this difficult."

your laugh filled the room and nanami continued making his bed, "i just don't like how he flirts with you with no shame. i can't imagine how he acts when i'm not around."

"he's shameless, but he knows his place."

he raised his brows, "which is?"

"the very, very, very last place. compared to you, at least."

"is that so?" he smiled widely, and he wished he could see the look on your face as you said that.

"it is so," your voice flowed smoothly through the speakers, keeping him warm against the cold breeze of the hotel air conditioning.

"so who takes second place?"

"shoko, probably."

he laughed, picking up his phone to take you with him to wash his face in the restroom, "she's my competition?"

"competition? for what? she's not the one who..." you trailed off purposefully, allowing him to finish the sentence with his own imagination.

he chuckled, sure that if he indulged you, you wouldn't sleep any time soon. so he played along, "...who?

he turned off the tap water, drying his face with a rough towel and he wondered if you were already done with your nightly routine, his favorite sight to come home to. it's why he always chose the flights that landed at night.

"nothing," you bit the inside of your cheek, "just know you're first and nothing could change that."

he hummed, choosing his words carefully before speaking, "i don't think i'd have any room for places in my heart."

"what? why?"

"you'd take them all up."

nanami making the bed and cleaning up so room service doesn't have to bc he's a gentleman 😭

#gojo and choso next? #mayhaps the students? #jjk x reader #geto x reader #jjk imagines #geto x you #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #toji x reader #toji x you #suguru geto #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #geto fluff #toji fluff

[unholyhelbig]

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.  

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

 “I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha ROmanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk geto #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #getou suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #getou suguru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #geto fluff #getou fluff #suguru geto #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #bimbo's one shots

[samandcolbyownme]

PART ONE

Summary: Anon request - "omg wait. request idea for sam and colby as ghostface smut :0 like billy loomis and stu macher OG ghostface"

Warnings: This one shot will contain smut and gore. There will be talk of death, murder, suicide, and blood, along with forceful acts such as choking, gagging, hair pulling, stabbing, and other malicious acts. The smut parts of this will contain, semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, choking, knife play, oral (both), double penetration, dirty talk, and f i l t h

Disclaimer: I'm putting my own twist on this. There will be references from the original Scream, but I am going to make it a tad more modern and my own and make it so instead of SnC wanting to kill y/n, they're going after a specific group of people from one particular event that involved y/n and of course, wanting y/n all to themselves.

Side note: Italics are when Sam and/or Colby are in ghostface mode.

Word count: 25.9K but I had to break it into two parts due to tumblr's character limit. The link to part two will be at the end of this.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You call, Sam." Colby says pushing the phone into his chest, "I need to make this little bitch suffer for what he did to her."

"We gotta keep it clean, Colby." Sam looks up at him, "I'm just as pissed about this as you are, but more or less, we can't afford to get caught."

Colby scoffs, "You're going to sit there and tell me that you don't want to rip his guts out for forcing y/n into something she obviously didn't want to do?"

You unknowingly, and drunkenly told Sam and Colby about what happened at the party you went to without them. You told them about  Levi McCallum forced himself onto you while his two other friends and Nina, his girlfriend watched, and that didn't sit right with either of them.

No one gets to hurt their girl and have zero consequence.

Over the last month, Sam and Colby have been plotting, in secret. Trying to find out just what to do exactly, which didn't take them long at all, and tonight, Nina and Levi are first to be crossed off the list.

Sam's anger boils as he thinks about what you went through, quickly turning infuriated, "Fuck them. They need to die."

"There we go." Colby grips Sam's shoulder, shaking him gently, "We're doing this for her."

"For her." Sam takes a deep breath and looks over at an older car coming up the long dirt road, "There he is. Good luck, brother."

Colby slips his gloves on, getting out as he grabs his mask from the dash, "Good luck, brother."

Colby disappears into the woods as Sam pulls out the burner, dialing the number to Nina's house. He listens to it ring before pulling the voice changer up to his lips as Nina answers with a mellow, "Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" Sam asks in the raspy changed voice.

"Who is this?" Nina asks confused.

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." Sam rests his head back against the seat of the car as she declines, "um, I don't think so."

Sam hears her shaking something in the background, "What is that? That noise you're making."

"Popcorn." She says with a slight laugh and Sam rolls his eyes, "I only eat popcorn at the movies."

"I actually am going to put a movie on, my boyfriend.." she emphasizes, "Is coming over to watch it with me."

"You like scary movies? What's your favorite?"  Sam asks, trying to buy Colby more time to get Levi restrained.

"Oh, um, I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it." She sighs, "Probably Halloween? Maybe. The one with the guy in the white mask that kills the babysitters on Halloween."

"Uh huh." Sam nods to himself, looking around as he quietly gathers his tools.

"What's yours?"  She asks, surprising Sam by keeping the conversation going.

"Guess."

"Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Didn't that guy have knives for fingers? Freddy Krueger?"

Sam knows all about horror movies, as does Colby, thanks to you. You're always making them watch a different movie or series, especially around Halloween time.

"Yeah, him. The first one was alright, but the rest just absolutely sucked." She clicks the lock and Sam sits up slightly.

"So you said boyfriend, is it anything serious?"

"Why?" She laughs with a flirty tone, "You want to take me out on a date?" 

He rolls his eyes, "Maybe. All you gotta do is tell me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name?" She giggles and Sam's demeanor darkens, his anger taking over, "Cause I wanna know who I'm looking at."

She goes quiet, the tone in her voice drops to scared, "W-What did you just say?"

"Because I want to know who I'm talking to."

"That's not.. that's not what you said." Nina goes around looking out the windows and Sam squeezes the phone, "What did you think I said, then?"

She flicks the back light on, catching Sam's attention, "What?"

She doesn't say anything, so he asks again, "Hello?"

"I-I.. look.. I gotta go."  Nina flicks the light off and Sam quietly gets ready to get out, "Wait, no. I thought you said we were going to go out."

"Nah, I don't think I want to. Creep." She hangs up as Sam tells her not to hang up. The call ends and he gets out, quickly disappearing into the woods to make his way up to the house.

He sees Colby holding onto Levi with a knife pressed against his throat. Sam slips his mask on, bringing the phone back up to his ear and slipping the voice changer into his mask, calling Nina again.

He watches her through the window, seeing her stop as she stares at the phone before answering, "What the fuck do you want?"

"I told you not to hang up on me."

"What do you want, then? Huh?" She asks slightly frantic, "Huh?"

"I told you. I just want to talk."

"About what? What could you possibly want to talk to me about?" Nina runs a hand over her face, on the verge of tears.

"About what happened at that party two months ago."

"Call someone else. I'm done." She hangs up and that's when Sam moves up to help get Levi in the pool chair, duct taping his hands behind his back.

His yelling is muffled through the several pieces of tape keeping his mouth closed.

Colby grips his throat, squeezing until his eyes roll back and he's not making any noise. Sam taps Colby, indicating to let him go, that he needs to be alive for Nina to see him die.

Sam makes his way around the house, quietly getting in through the one window she didn't have locked before calling again.

"Listen asshole." Nina screams into the phone and Sam cuts her off, anger dripping from his words, "You listen to me you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I swear to god I'll gut you like a fish."

She doesn't say anything and the feeling of power takes over Sam, chuckling slightly, "Yeah."

"Is this a joke?" She whimpers out.

"More of a lesson about karma, really." He pauses as he hears her moving slowly, "Can you handle getting your karma for what you did, blondie?"

"What did I do?" She asks, trying to sound innocent and Sam just laughs, "More or less of what you and that sleezeball boyfriend of yours did."

Nina takes off running, locking all the doors she can get to. She looks out the window of the front door and puts the phone back up to her ear.

"Can you see me, Nina?"

She's breathing heavy, crying, "I'm going to call the fucking cops. This isn't fucking funny anymore."

"They'd never make it in time, look at where we're at. We're in the middle of no where." Sam moves to another room and she pleads, "Just tell me what you want, fuck. I'll do anything, please."

"I already told you, you need your karma. But I also kinda want to see what your insides look like." A sinister smiles grows behind Sam's mask as he listens to Nina sob and hang up.

Colby quickly walks around to the front, ringing the door bell a few times before running off. Nina screams, "Who's there? Fuck, I'm calling the cops, I'm not do-"

The phone rings as she picks it up, and she screams, crying as she brings to her ear.

"Don't you know not to ask who's there, fuck. You should know all about that from the movies you watch. Asking who's there is a death wish, and I'm feeling generous enough to grant it for you."

"Look.." she gasps for air, "You've had your fun now so I think.. you better just leave me... the fuck alone or else I-"

"Or else what?" Sam taunts, "What could you possibly do to outsmart me? Hmm?"

"My boyfriend will be here any fucking minute and he'll find you, and rip you apart for messing with me." She screams into the phone and Sam laughs, "Your boyfriend is a pussy, Nina. He'd do anything to save himself before you, now why don't you just walk on over to the back, look out at the pool."

"Fuck you. Fuck you."

"His name wouldn't happen to be Levi.. would it?"

She gasps, "How do you know his name?"

"Go to the doors, like I said, and turn on the fucking lights.. again."

Sam makes his way downstairs, knowing that she is focused on a bloody and beat up Levi. Still on the phone, he hears her sob, "Oh god, no. No. No. Levi!" She scratches at the door to unlock it frantically but Sam on the phone makes her stop, "I don't recommend doing that."

"Where the fuck are you?" She pounds on the glass of the window, "Where the fuck are you?"

"Guess. I could be anywhere."

"Please don't hurt him." She pleads, "I love him."

"Really? You love someone who goes around, using girls for his own drunken pleasure at parties they should have even been at?"

"What are you ta-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about bitch." Sam growls, "Now, if you want him to live, play a game with me."

"What game?"  She whimpers and Sam chuckles, "Turn off the light." Levi screams behind the tape and Nina leans against the wall listening as she turns off the lights.

"What party were you at two months ago?"

She thinks for a moment, sniffling as she does, "I-I do-"

"Don't tell me you don't know because I know for a fact you know exactly what I'm talking about." Sam snaps, "if I have to ask again, your pussy of a boyfriend dies."

"A party. It was Xander's party." She sobs, "Please.. don't kill him."

"What happened at Xander's party, Nina?"

"I don't.. I really don't know.." she lies, pleading for Levi's life, "I don't know, asshole. Fucking kill me if you want, but leave Levi alone!"

Sam is quiet for a few seconds, "Wrong answer." Sam hangs up and Nina goes to the door, screaming as Colby plunges a knife into his abdomen, spilling his guts into his lap, leaving Levi dead where he sits right as she flicks the lights back on.

Colby vanishes, making his way back into the woods incase Sam needs backup.

"Hey." Sam says catching her attention to the phone again, "We're not done. I still have one final question."

"Go the fuck away. You already killed Levi, what more do you want from me!?"

"Which door am I at? You got a fifty fifty chance of picking the right one.." he pushes as he listens to her voice shake, "Unless I'm already in the house."

She drops the phone as Colby throws a chair through the window, making her take off into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the block. She backs up slowly, gasping as Sam crosses the hallway in a swift motion, making his way into the other room.

She slips out the patio doors, shaking as she looks back in to see Sam stalking around the house. She moves over, getting ready to take off until he busts through the door, tackling her to the ground.

She gets up fast, but so does Sam. He chases her across the yard, grabbing her to pull her back and he plunges his knife deep into her chest, twisting it before throwing her down on the grass.

She's gasping, hyperventilating as she runs her fingers over the stab wound, trying to plead for her life once more. Sam moves on top of her, pressing a hand to her throat so she doesn't make any noise.

She ends up kicking him, making him fall back as she desperately tries to crawl away. With his adrenaline pumping, he gets back up, crawling over and stopping her.

He rolls her back over. She tries to scream for help but her voice is a strangled whine, "H-he-hel- help."

Sam shakes his head, gripping her throat again as she reaches up and rips his mask off. He stares down at her, giving her a smirk before stabbing her again.

And again.

Sam smashes the phone and leaves to find Colby before a car comes in from the other direction.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It wasn't unusual for you to share a bed with Sam or Colby, you guys have been close for many, many years which developed into this relationship that made you not want to look for anyone else. You were content with them, so you didn't need or even want a boyfriend, it was like you had two.

But it wasn't official or anything.

What was unusual, was that you woke up to it just being you, "Sam?" You call out hoping for an answer, "Colby?"

You swing your legs over, standing up as you grab one of the sweatshirts that's on the floor, checking your phone to see a message from Sam, Drug Colby with me for a run. Be back soon.

You sigh, feeling relieved as you now know they aren't in any kind of trouble like they have been in before. In the middle of responding, you hear the door open and you quickly make your way down the steps.

"Good morning, gorgeous." Sam says winking at you. You smile, "How was the run?" You look at Colby and he shrugs, "it was actually very exhilarating, I think I'm going to start running with Sam more often."

"Wow." You raise your eyebrows, taking the coffee Sam hands you, "That's not like you at all."

Colby chuckles, "Yeah, well. It is now I guess. Gotta stay in shape so I can fight those demons all night long." He motions to his Currently Fighting Demons hoodie and you roll your eyes with a laugh, "You really are a walking advertisement."

Sam smirks at you, "I'm going to go up and shower, but after that want to go out to eat?" You nod, "Mm." You swallow your coffee, "Yes please, I'm starving."

Sam jogs up the steps and Colby walks over to you, "You doing okay?" You sip your coffee and look up at him, "I was just worried that you two got arrested again."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no. Just went for a run. We aren't going anywhere." He tucks hair behind your ear and quickly kisses your forehead, "I'm going to shower, too."

You smile turning as you go into the living room. Right as you sit down, your phone rings, "Hey, Soph."

"Are you home?" She asks, her voice shakey, "Y/n."

"Yes. Yes. We're all here, what's up? What's going on?" You sit up, "Sophie?" There's about knock on your door, "I'm here." She yells, still on the phone.

You get up, quickly walking over to unlock the door, "Hey, come in."

"Levi and Nina are dead."

Her words shock you, "I'm sorry." You laugh slightly, "what did you just say?"

She takes a deep breath, "Nina and Levi are dead. Y/n.  Gone."

"What the hell? When? How? Why?" You run a hand over your hair, kinda acting more sad about it than you actually were because Sophie doesn't know what happened to you, "What can I do?"

You walk over and hug her as she breaks down in your arms.

Sam and Colby slowly walk down the steps, giving you a confused look they point to her. You shake your head, giving them a frown, "Levi and Nina are dead."

Your voice is quiet as you wipe the tears from her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Soph."

"Nina was like a sister to me. I mean obviously you too.." she laughs nervously, "Fuck, you know what I mean."

"It's okay. I understand." You walk her to the couch and sit down with her, her head laying in your lap as she starts sobbing again, "Who.. would do t-this?"

"I don't know, honey. But they'll find them. I'm sure.." You rub her back, unsure of what else to say.

You hated them with your full being, yes, but you never wanted them to die or anything.

"What happened?" Sam asks walking over and Sophie snaps her head up, "Two of my friends were killed, she just told you, what don't you understand?"

Sam clenches his jaw and Colby walks up, "Whoa. Hey. He just asked what happened."

Sophie rolls her eyes, "Do I need to reword it for you? Nina and Levi were killed. Gutted. I don't u-"

"Okay." You say loudly, cutting her off, "You just need to calm down, for one, and two.. They didn't do anything wrong, just asked what happened and you're snapping their heads off for no reason."

Sophie breaks down again, falling into your lap as she whimpers, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry."

Sam and Colby's eyes are on you. The way you stand up for them without any hesitation, no matter who it is, is one of the things they love about you.

They both knew that if you found out, you die for them before they got caught. 

And they were right.

"Exactly." Colby motions to you and sighs as he walks back upstairs. Sam shakes his head, "I'll leave you guys to it, then." He follows Colby and Sophie sits up, "I didn't mean to yell at them."

You hug her head, "I know. It's okay. They know you're under a lot right now."

"I think.. I think I'm going to go down to the police station, to see if I can get any information," she sniffles and looks at you, "Will you come with me?"

"Why don't you come to lunch with us, then we can go? We can talk about everything." You brush her hair from her face and she shakes her head, "i have to go see Eli."

"Eli? As in-"

She cuts you off, "Levi's best friend, yeah. That's who I've been seeing."

You raise your eyebrows, trying not to let your anger answer for you, because as said, she doesn't know he was there that night too, "Is it going good?"

"It was until last night. He won't answer my calls now, so.." she sniffles and stands up, "I'll call you later." You walk after her, "I can drive you if-"

"No. I just need a minute.. to think... about all of this." She lays her head on her hands, sobbing before quickly pulling it together. She walks over, hugging you tight, "I'm so scared."

You wrap your arms around her, "I know. I know. I am too." You rub her back, "They'll figure it out. I promise." She leans back, wiping her face before turning away, "I'll call you then."

"Just come over tonight. Stay here so I know you're safe too." You walk over to the door and she spins around, nodding, "O-okay."

You nod, giving her a small smile, "Okay." You watch as she makes her way to her car and you shut the door, Sam and Colby standing quietly behind you, "Jesus Christ."

You jump and lay a hand on your chest, "I need to put a bell on both of you."

They both laugh and Colby points to the door, "is she okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, she didn't mean to snap on you. It's all still so fresh, I can't imagine what she's going through."

"Did you hate Nina?" Sam asks raising his eyebrow. You nod, "And Levi, but that didn't mean I wanted them to be murdered or anything."

"Yeah, no right. I don't think anyone wishes for just anyone to die." Colby nods, "Did she tell you what happened exactly?"

You pull your phone out, "I can find out. I'm sure the news is alre-" your mouth drops slightly and your hand goes over your mouth as you read the gruesome description of how they were found.

"What, y/n?" Sam asks as he moves over to you, looking down at your phone, "Oh shit."

"Worse than Sophie said it was?" Colby walks over, looking over your shoulder, "Oh.. fuck."

"They said Levi was found out by their pool, taped to a chair and he was.." you cringe, "Literally gutted.." you rest your phone down by your side, "Nina was found the same way just outside in the yard.."

You close your eyes, shaking your head, "I can't imagine what her mom must of felt. She's the one who found them."

"Who ever did that obviously had a resentment towards them.." Colby glances at Sam, "Apparently."

Sam fights off his smirk and wraps his arm around you, "Are you okay?" You nod, "Yeah.. I mean, they bullied the hell out of me, but at the same time.." you take a deep breath, "Karma is a bitch.. I just didn't think of it being this big of one. I'm honestly kind of scared, like there's a killer on the loose and no one knows anything about it."

"It'll be okay." Colby wraps his arm around your shoulders, gripping Sam's hoodie, "you know we won't let anything happen to you."

You didn't remember that they knew about what happened at the party, and they wanted to keep it that way.

"If you don't want to go out, we can just stay here." Sam whispers, "Whatever you want to do."

You sigh, "I really want a wrap from Bardoe's." You laugh slightly and Sam smiles, "then we'll go to Bardoe's."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hey, y/n."

You set your food down, looking up as your friend, Noel, comes over, "How's Sophie?" She sits down across from you.

You shrug, "As bad as you'd think."

"She about bit my head off when I asked what was happening.," Sam says taking a sip of his drink. You nod, "Yeah, she stopped by before we came here, but she said she had to go see Eli."

She leans back, "Did you just say Eli?"

You nod, "I know, I had the same reaction you did." You laugh slightly, "I mean, to each their own. Her type is just assholes, apparently."

She raises her eyebrows and Henry, Noel's boyfriend comes over and sits down, "Colby. Sam." He nods to them and they nod back. He looks at you, "Y/n."

Henry stopped everything that night and you made him promise not to say a word to anyone, but Sam and Colby already know that, too.

So he's safe.

"How you doing?" He asks and you shrug, "I'm fine, worried about Soph." He nods, "Yeah, her and Eli are taking it pretty hard."

You nod, "I seen her this morning, she said she was going to the police station to ask questions, but I'm sure she'll only find out what they want them to."

You lean back, resting your head on Colby's arm that's extended over the top of the booth.

"How do you even gut someone like that?" Noel asks as she takes some of your fries, "Honestly. It's overkill if you ask me."

Colby shrugs, "The only way I can imagine, is that they took a knife or something sharp, then cut them from groin to sternum.."

Sam looks at Colby, "Hey. It's called tact, fucking idiot."

Colby holds his hand up, "I'm just saying that it would be an awful way to die." You stare at the table, nodding as you think about the pain they endured.

You hated it, but that little sick and twisted part inside of you liked it. You liked that they endured more pain than they had caused you, but you still felt bad.

"I heard they found her liver in the mailbox, how sick is that?" Henry says changing the subject, "Next to her spleen or some other organ."

"Oh that's so gross, I'm trying to eat y/n's fries, Henry. Stop it." Noel groans and pushes him. Colby smirks, "Yeah Henry, liver alone." He laughs and you look over at him, trying not to laugh.

Sam reaches behind you, smacking Colby's shoulder, "Dude."

"What? It's a joke, let her, liver? Liv-er alone?" He laughs with Henry and you just shake your head.

"Henry. Did you used to date Noel?" Colby points towards him. Noel looks at Henry and he laughs, "Yeah, until I found out just how psycho she was."

"What do you mean?" You look up at him.

He shrugs, "She was just nuts. I couldn't talk to anyone because I was-" he puts air quotes, "Cheating."

"Were you?" Noel looks at him and he looks at her, "Not at all." He looks at Sam, "Didn't you know Levi?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not like you'd think. I played basketball with him, but he was always a preppy everyone needs to love me kinda person and I couldn't be around that."

Henry raises his eyebrows and Sam tilts his head, "What? You think I did it?" He leans forward, resting his hands on the table, "I didn't kill anybody."

"No body said you did." Colby stares at Sam and he tilts his head smiling at Colby, "Aw, thanks buddy."

You rest your hand on his arms "Sam, that's not what he's saying. We all know you didn't. You have no reason to."

Noel laughs, "Yeah Sam, just because you and Colby hunt ghosts, that doesn't mean you could pull something like this off."

Henry laughs, "Right. That's how I know it wasn't you."

You can tell Colby is getting pissed because Henry just basically accused him of killing people, and honestly you were, too.

"Alright, I think it's time we leave. Yeah?" You look at Noel, "You should come over later. Soph is going to be there."

She nods, "I'll call you then." She stands up, pulling Henry up with her, quietly yelling at him about saying what he did to Sam.

You turn to Sam, "Are you okay?"

He nods and looks over at you, "Do you think I did it?" You shake your head, "As I said, you'd have no reason to." He takes a deep breath, "If he starts saying shit like that, I'll be the one they throw behind bars."

"I won't let that happen." You and Colby say in unison, causing Sam to smile. You smile and lean in, "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you." You lean over to Colby, "Or you." You sit straight, "Because I like whatever this is."

"We like it too." Sam pulls you in, kissing your head as he stares at Colby, "Let's get out of here."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hello?" You say as you pick up your phone.

"Hello, is this y/n?" A man on the other end of the phone asks. You sit up, "May I ask who's calling?"

The man on the phone chuckles softly, "Right, yes. My name is Officer Tylers. I'm calling to see if you'd come down to the station to answer some questions for us."

"About the murders?" You pinch the bridge of your nose and he sighs, "Yes. So if you could, the sooner the better, but no rush. I know this is a-"

You cut him off, "I'll be right there,"

"Great. Thank you."

You hang up and sigh before yelling, "Colby." He jogs down the steps, "What's up, babe?" You smiles slightly and stand up, "I just got off the phone with an Officer Tylers. They want me to come down and answer some questions."

He raises his eyebrows, "Really?"

You shrug, "I don't know why.. I just.." you sit back down and Colby walks over, sitting next to you, "Hey. You'll be okay. They probably are just doing a routine questioning to everyone she went to school with. I'm sure Sam and I are next to be questioned."

You laugh slightly, "Might as well just come with me." You look around, "Where's Sam?"

"He went to meet the guy to talk about our next investigation." He tucks hair behind your ear, "You're so pretty."

You smile and tilt your head, "Why didn't you go with him?" He smiles, "I figured you didn't want to be left alone."

You nod, "Yeah, you're right. I just have to text Soph and Noel to let them know i won't be here for a little bit."

"I'll text Sam, let him know that we're going to the station." Colby takes his phone out, tapping his screen quickly. You text Sophie and Noel, letting them know exactly what's going on.

"I told them the key is under the mat if they get here before we get back." You look up at Colby, "Is that okay?"

He looks up and nods, "Yeah that's fine. Are you ready?" You nod and stand up, "What did Sam say?" Colby shakes his head as he slides his phone back into his pocket, "Just said to be careful."

"He doesn't have to worry about that." You laugh and grab Colby's keys, handing them to him, "Here ya go." He takes them from you and pulls you into him, "Everything is going to be okay."

You smile, "Thank you for being so calm through all of this, I'm actually freaking out on the inside." He chuckles, "I know. I think you're forgetting I can read you like a book, y/n."

You lick your lips, looking up at him. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours as he pulls your body closer.

The door opens and Sam walks through, stopping when he sees you and Colby, "Whoa, whoa." He laughs and walks over, wrapping his arm around your waist, "Excuse me."

You laugh slightly and look up at him, "I thought you were meeting with that guy?" He nods, "Yeah, it was an easy meet up, he wants us to investigate there, so he was excited."

"So it's set then?" Colby asks and Sam nods, "It's set."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Wish me luck." You mumble before reaching for the door handle. Sam and Colby both wish you luck and you get out, taking a deep breath before crossing the street.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The lady behind the glass asks and you rest your hands on the counter, "I got a um.. call from an Officer Richards. He told me to come down to answer some questions."

She nods, "Y/n y/l/n right?"

You nod, "Yep. That's me."

"You can have a seat right over there, I'll let him know you're here." You mumble a quiet, "thank you," before walking over to the chair and sitting down.

Not even a minute later, a tall man dressed in a police uniform walks over to you, "Y/n?"

You look up at him, immediately pissed, "Yes." You stand up and shake his hand, "Been a while.. You can come with me this way." You follow him through the barracks and into a room with only a table and four chairs.

"Have a seat. Do you need anything? Want anything? Water, coffee?"

You look up at him from the chair and shake your head, "No, thank you. I'm good."

"Alright, we'll just jump right into this then." He sits across from you after closing the door, "Did you know Nina and Levi?"

"Why are you questioning me? Isn't that conflict of interest or whatever?" You cross your arms over your chest and he shakes his head, "Not technically family, so no. Anyway, did you know Nina and Levi?"

You tilt your head, "I did, but I wasn't really liked by them."

"Can you elaborate on that for me, please? What do you mean exactly? Why didn't they like you?" He scribbles down notes on the notepad.

"I'm friends with Sophie Frank, and she's friends- or was friends.. with Nina, and Sophie and I are so different, I think she thought I ruined the popular girl image, and eventually just pushed me out." You explain, "And Levi, well he was the quarterback of the football team and got a college scholarship, so he was Mr. Popularity."

"Were you jealous of that?"

You laugh slightly, "Excuse me?"

He holds his hand up, "I know that sounds bad, but it's just routine or whatever you want to call it. Let me reword it.." he thinks for a moment and looks back up at you, "Were you jealous that Sophie was friends with her? How did her pushing you out make you feel?"

"I mean I didn't really like it, so I just stopped hanging around Sophie when I knew there was a chance Nina would be there, but I didn't want her to die if that's what you're getting at." You stare at him and he nods as he scribbles some more, "I liked Nina, we were friends before high school, but high school really changes a person I guess."

"Did it change you?" He asks right away, "I mean, you didn't go to college, correct?"

You shake your head, "No, but what-"

"You're living with two guys who do videos, both are handsome looking dudes, you didn't feel.. I don't know.. threatened by Nina in anyway?"

You scoff at his question, "No, Officer Tylers. I was not threatened by Nina."

"Where were you last night?" He leans back in his chair and you sigh, "I was home. Asleep by ten with Sam and Colby."

"They were there?" He tilts his head, "They didn't leave the house?"

You clench your jaw, sighing because you don't like to talk about your private business, especially with people like Officer Tylers, "They were in bed, with me, until about seven this morning. They went for a run."

"And that's normal? What time did they get back?"

"Yes." You sigh, "Sam is training for a marathon, and Colby likes working out." You shrug, "About eight thirty." You sigh, "Are we done? Can we be done please?"

"Almost." He holds up his finger and scribbles down more words, "Is ghost hunting all Sam and Colby do? Do you join them sometimes? I've never seen their videos beside so I don't really know."

"Besides doing photo shoots for their merch launches and making their own coffee, yeah. That's all they do."

He's quiet for a few moments before he looks up, "Don't leave town, stay in touch if you see anything, but yeah. Were done. For now." You stand up and he grabs your arm, "Just be careful, y/n. Your dad told me to look after you, and that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

You pull your arm away, "Well, you're not my dad so." You walk away and he stands up, watching as an officer leads you to the front of the building.

Officer Tylers, better known as Dave Tylers, was your dad's best friend and your dad told him, on his death bed, that he was to make sure you were okay.

You've always gotten weird vibes from him, even when you were younger, so you kept your distance.

You get into the car, plopping down with a sigh, "That was fucking pathetic."

"What happened?" Sam asks as they both turn around to face you. You shake your head, "We can talk about it at home. I need to make sure that fucker didn't bug me."

"Huh?" Sam whips back around as Colby drives off and you laugh slightly, "The officer that questioned me was.." you sigh, "He's who my dad asked to look after me. I just get a weird feeling with him, so I've kept my distance and he was like, asking me if I was at home in bed with you two last night. Like it was just weird."

Colby clenches his jaw, "You don't owe anyone an explanation about us."

"I know, Colby. I felt like I had to because of the way he was drilling me with question after question." You thud back against the seat, "I just don't understand who would want to actually go through and kill someone, let alone two people at once."

You rest your head back, thinking about the answers you gave Dave. Anxious because you lied, you guys were drinking and you got a little too wasted, passing out, so you weren't really sure if they went to bed when you did, but it doesn't matter because one, Dave didn't need to know that, and two, Sam and Colby aren't killers, they're ghost hunters.

"Did you guys go to bed with me last night?" You ask kinda quiet and Colby looks back at you in the rearview, "Of course we did. We wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I mean, I edited our latest video a little bit after you fell asleep but I was only down at the end of the bed." Sam looks back at you, "Are you doubting us, ms y/l/n?"

You laugh and shake your head, "No, no. Dave just gets under my skin and I don't know, I hate him."

Sam and Colby glance at each other, looking away before you look back up at them, "Sorry. I just-"

"You don't ever need to apologize to us, y/n." Sam smiles back at you, reaching for your hand, "I promise, everything is okay."

You take his hand and watch as he pulls you towards him, bringing your hand to his lips, "We got you."

You smile at him, jumping slightly as your phone rings. You look down, hitting the green button, "Hey Soph, I'm on my way-"

"Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with Nina and Levi." She says frantic, "I'm not going to be able to come over tonight. I'm sorry."

"No, no hey. It's okay. Take deep breathes a- hello?" You pull your phone away seeing she ended the call, "Okay, bye to you, too."

"What's going on, babe?" Colby asks glancing over his shoulder. You sigh as you shrug, "I guess they think Eli did it. Soph didn't tell me much, all she said was Eli got arrested, she won't be able to come tonight and that she's heading to the station and hung up."

You text Noel, Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with the murders.

"You're only trying to help her, I really don't understand why she's being this way towards you." Sam says, "She's only going to get hurt if she keeps messing around with Eli."

"You don't have to tell me." You roll your eyes, "She changed, and I'm not saying that's bad thing, but I've definitely been put on the back burner.."

"Hey." Sam lays his hand on your knee, Colby parks in the driveway and does the same. You look up at them and Sam smiles, "If they don't come tonight, screw them. If they can't see that you're only trying to help, then that's on them."

You lay your hands on theirs, "I don't know if I told you guys this lately, but I love you both so very much and I am so glad that we're whatever this is." You smirk slightly and Colby squeezes your knee, "You're our girl, what can we say?"

You smile and get out of the car, walking inside, "We should just have a movie night, chill out. Forget that we're living in fear right now." You set your bag down and turn towards them, "What do ya say?"

"I say.." Colby walks over, grabbing your hand and spinning you into him, "Let's do it."

"I second that. Or third that in this case." Sam laughs as he presses a kiss to your temple, "Now go change into something comfy then we can get this party started."

You smile all the way up to the top of the steps. You can hear Sam and Colby whispering but you think nothing of it.

You're in a mood.

A mood for them.

You throw on a bigger tee, no pants, and walk back down the steps. Their eyes immediately on you and you blush, "What?" You walk past them to the couch and they follow you like a magnet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Colby asks as he sits beside you, Sam on the other. You smirk, "You said to change into something comfy, and I'm most comfortable without pants."

"I think you got comfy confused with sexy, there babe" Sam bites his lip as he drags his hand up your back. You lean back slowly and Colby pulls you back against his chest, "Makes me want to rip you apart."

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, "Do it." His hands slide down, raising your shirt with his fingers, "The way Sam is looking at you right now.." Colby tilts head up to look at Sam, "I think he wants to."

Your eyes meet Sam's stare, "Please."

Colby spreads your legs, one pushed up against the back of the couch and he has his hand under the knee of your other, holding it up.

Sam moves in, kissing down your neck and under your boobs until he reaches the top of your panties. He bites them, pulling his head back and letting go so they snap against your skin.

Your breath hitches and Colby chuckles deeply in your ear, "You like that, baby girl?"

You nod, whimpering as Sam kisses up your thigh and pressing his lips to your pantie covered clit, "So much."

"Can you beg for him? Hmm.." Colby gently bites down on your earlobe, "Tell him what you want."

"I want you to eat my pussy." You moan as he presses another kiss to your clothed clit, "Please, Sam.." you whimper, "Please."

Sam looks up at you, pulling your panties to the side and runs his finger against your soaked slit, "Someone needs us."

You nod, "I do.. yes.."

"Say it again, baby." Colby whispers, eyes meeting Sam's as you moan out to the feeling of Sam's fingers dipping deep inside of you, "I need you."

Colby slides his hand down, gently massaging your clit as Sam slowly pushes and pulls his fingers in and out, "You're so fucking wet."

"No one is ever allowed to touch you again, got it?" Colby gently bites your neck and you moan out, "No one but you and Sam."

Sam reaches up, turning your head so you look at him, "Who's pussy is this?"

You furrow your brows as you feel your orgasm coming on, "Oh fuck." You whimper, "You and Colby's."

"Say my name, baby." Sam bites his lip as he works up to a faster pace, causing you to clench around his fingers, "Sam and Colby's."

Your back arches off of Colby's chest and you moan, "Fuck, fuck." Colby adds more pressure, "Cum for us, baby."

You roll your hips slowly, growing closer and closer until there's frantic knocking on your door, "Y/n!"

You don't want to stop, but you reach down to grab Sam's wrist but Colby grabs your hand, pinning it to the back of the couch, "Don't try it. You're going to cum first."

Your eyes roll back as you work back up to where you were, biting your lip to muffle your moans.

The knocking and pounding on the door continues and Sam curls his fingers just right, sending you overboard. You grind your hips against their hands, pressing the back of your head into Colby's shoulder.

"Good girl." Colby reaches up, gripping your chin so he can kiss you. Sam pulls his fingers out and brings them to his own lips, "Were not done." He says with a smirk.

You smirk and shake your head, completely forgetting about someone at the door. You jump up, fixing your panties as you walk to the door, "Who is it?"

"Fucking Sophie. Now open up."

You open the door and she barges in, "Someone fucking planted shit on Eli, I swear to god." She paces back and forth, "I don't.. oh fuck.. I don't know what to do.."

"Well, if you would have listened to me before you hung up on me, I told you to breathe so why don't you try doing just that?" You walk over to the fridge, grabbing her a water and handing it to her.

"What if this was Colby? Hmm?"

"Does no one believe that I'm capable of murder?" Sam holds his arms out and laughs, causing you to smile, "Of course we do sweetie." You look back at Sophie, "No I know. It's easier said than done. I was a mess when Colby got arrested and no one knew what was happening."

"He got arrested for trespassing and having fake id's, y/n. That nothing compared to what Eli is possibly facing." Sophie sets her water down and sits on the stool, "Eli didn't do this."

"If anyone isn't capable of murder, it's him, Soph. You don't have anything to worry about. Where was he last night?"

She shrugs, "he was home."

"And you're sure of that?" You tilt your head slightly, "Why didn't you tell the police that?" She sighs, "They said they'll talk to me once they're done questioning him. This apparently is a big fucking thing because every cop is out patrolling every area around here."

You look over at Sam and Colby who are quietly talking to each other and back to her, "Well do you to-"

"Why don't you come with me? We're going back to Nina's, well sneaking back there so we can try and figure this out ourselves? We can meet Noel at her place?"

You shake your head, "I just really wanted to stay in tonight, kinda the reason as to why I told you and Noel to come here."

"Don't you want to help find the killer? I understand you didn't like Levi and Nina, but at the same time.. don't you want to help find who did it?" She looks at you and you just stare at her.

"Fine." She throws her hands up and walks towards the door, "I'm just saying.. if you showed up missing or dead, Nina would help figure it out too, she wasn't as bad as you thought."

Yes she was. You wanted to tell her in that moment just how bad they both were, but you just watched her leave.

You look over at Sam and Colby who are staring at you, unhappy about the interaction, "You okay?" Sam asks standing up, "That was uncalled for." He motions towards the door.

You shrug, "I just don't think Levi and Nina were good enough people for me to put life at risk, you know what i mean?"

Sam walks over, pulling you in for a hug, "I know, sweetheart. It's okay. Everyone deals with these things differently and it's okay."

Colby walks up, pressing a kiss to your temple, "Fuck em."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Later that night, as you're sitting on the couch, Colby lets out a groan, "My head is killing me."

"Aw. Did you take anything?" You reach over and gently scratch the back of his neck. He shakes his head slightly, "No, but I think I'm going to and then I'm going to head up to bed." He stands up, bending down to kiss your forehead, "I love you."

You smile and lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you." You press your lips to his and lean back, "You guys ate awfully lovey dovey lately."

You look between them and they smile, "Can't help it if we're just happy when we're around you." Colby punches your chin gently, "Wake me up for your run in the morning, Sam."

Sam nods, "You got it, bro."

As of right now, it was Sam's job to distract you. Make you forget about the world for a little while.

"Why don't we..." he slides his hand up your bare thigh, "Pick up where we left off?" You bit your lip, turning towards him, "Won't Colby feel left out?"

He shakes his head, pulling you to him, "We made a deal, I get you now. He gets you tomorrow morning."

You bite your lip, leaning in. You stop just as your lips are about to touch his, "So you have a schedule?" Sam chuckles and presses his lips to yours, "Only trying to keep it fair, you know how we get."

You stand up, "Take me to bed, Mr. Golbach."

Sam stands up and takes your hand, "If I ever say no to that, make sure I'm the one who's gutted next." You perk up slightly, but not from fear.

Something about his words makes you wet, "I'll give you something to murder." You both laugh at your words, "Someone is feeling frisky."

You bite your lip, "Maybe a little." Sam slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing, "Let's go." You pull him with you up the stairs, going into his room and shutting the door.

His hands slip you out of the tee, tossing it on the ground and looking at your bare chest, "You're so fucking hot." He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he walks you over to the bed.

Colby quietly sneaks out of his room, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possibly before making his way down the steps and out the front door.

"Sam.." you whimper, "I need you."

He pulls away from kissing your neck, "I want to taste you first, babe. Can you be a good girl and let me do that?"

You smirk and nod your head, "Yes."

"That's my girl." He winks and kisses down your body, making your breath hitch as he sucks little marks into the skin under your boobs and down your stomach, "Don't tease."

"That's my favorite part, besides hearing you beg for me." His fingers brush over your clit and you gasp quietly, spreading your legs further apart, "Sam.."

Colby makes his way to where they parked their car before, slightly deep in the woods, but with an easy exit. He takes a deep breathe before getting out of the car and stalking through the woods towards the house, mask on and ready to kill.

For you.

Sam slowly pulls your panties down, too slow for your liking. You go to take your legs out and Sam crawls up, "I want to take my time with you, y/n. Been a bit since I had you to myself."

You melt into him, nodding, "Sorry."

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, "You don't ever have to be sorry. You're impatient, you need to be touched. I get that." He smiles down at you, "I'm going to do just that, okay?"

You nod and watch as he moves down your body, "I just want to take you in for a minute." He kisses down your thighs, making you wetter with each kiss.

Colby takes the burner from his pocket, dialing a number.

"Hello?" Henry picks up the phone.

"What are you doing back here?"  Colby asks in the low raspy tone from the voice changer, "You guys shouldn't be back here."

Colby watches Henry spin around in circles, "Who- yo. Who the hell is this?" He stops and looks at his phone, but no luck, "What a bitch, calling me from a restricted number, you know what. If you're trying to scare me, it ain't gunna work, dude."

"What if I told you I knew who killed that bitch and her liar boyfriend, hmm?" Colby slowly makes his way around to the side of the house.

You moan, rolling your hips against Sam's face, "Fuck, fuck. Sam, I-I.." you arch your back, moaning out as you cum around his tongue, "Fuck, fuck fuck." You whimper and tangle your fingers in his hair, "Yes, yes, yes."

"How do you know that?" Henry asks and walks over to where Colby killed Levi, the dark red mark from his guts dripping still stained on the concrete, "Did you do it?"

"I did. And it felt so fucking good." Colby chuckles lowly, "He died like a bitch."

"Fuck you. I'm not do-"

"You leave that spot and your girlfriend dies next." Colby threatens, "Now, I want you to tell me something."

"What." Henry scoffs.

"What is one of your biggest secrets, Henry? I know you probably have a lot of skeletons in that dusty closet of yours."  Colby moves around, still making sure to have eyes on the house with Noel and Sophie in it, and Henry.

"I don't have any." Henry laughs, "Honest."

"Fucking liar. Do you want to die just like Levi?"

"N-no. No." He keeps his voice quiet, "Fine." Henry takes a deep breath, "I cheated on Noel, okay."

That's not what Colby was expecting to hear, "You're pathetic, just like Levi."

Henry freaks out quietly, "Fuck you. I'm nothing like Levi okay."

"Oh yeah? Do tell." Colby pulls his knife out, "I'd love to know how you were better than him."

"Again, baby. I want you to cum on my face again." Sam moves up, lying down as he pulls you to sit on his face.

"I don't know what has gotten into you.." you look down at him, running your fingers through his hair, "But I like it." He smirks up at you and pulls your hips down to meet his face, his tongue lapping at your clit.

You grip the headboard, leaning forward as you're engulfed in the pleasure once again.

"I don't just go around, throwing myself onto girls who are way too drunk to say yes or no. Okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He spins around, looking to see if anyone else is around.

"You're still pathetic, cheating on your girlfriend.." Colby tsks a few times, "Still doesn't make you a good guy."

"Fuck. Sam.." your legs start to shake and your eyes roll back, pulling his hair as you cum again, "F-fuck." Sam eats you out through your orgasm, heightening it in a way that's never happened before, "S-shit."

You roll off of him, laying on your back as he rolls on top of you, "Such a good fucking girl." He crashes his lips on yours and you moan against his lips as your tongue swipes the taste of yourself off his lips.

Colby moves once he knows the girls in the house won't see, and quickly grabs Henry, covering his mouth with his glove covered hand and stabs him in the back a few times quickly, before spinning him around to slit his throat.

He stares at him for a few seconds as Henry gargles and chokes on his own blood before pushing him back, his body splashing into the pool, turning the clear water red.

"Fucking bitch." Colby mumbles before disappearing into the night, listening to the screams of horror, which can only mean that he has to get the hell out of dodge.

Sam gets up, stripping his clothes off before moving back to lay between your thighs. Your knees rest against his hips and you look up at him, "I love you."

"You have no idea how much I love you." Sam whispers and pushes his cock into you, groaning out as he interlocks his hand with yours and squeezes it, "You have no idea."

Colby starts driving, a smirk resting on his lips as the thought of what he did and why he did it.

Over and over again, the vision of Henry falling lifeless into the pool thrills him.

Henry disrespected Sam, so this kill wasn't just for you this time.

"I could do this all day." Sam groans lowly, "All night." He kisses down your neck as he slowly thrusts into you, trying to hold himself off for as long as he can, "You drive me fucking insane. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."

"I'd die for you." You cup his cheek with your free hand, "You and Colby, you both.." you arch your back, moaning as you approach another orgasm, "I love you both so.." you gasp, arching your back, squeezing his hand, "So fucking much."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his cock hits that sweet little spot each time he slides in, "S-Sam."

You moan out loudly, squeezing his cock tightly with your walls, "Fu-" you basically scream for him, clawing up his back as you cum.

He groans, thrusting all the way into you, "Fuck, as much as I love when you do that, don't." He kisses your lips, "I don't want to cum yet."

Colby pulls into the driveway and makes his way back inside, closing the door quietly. It was times like this where they were very thankful that you wanted a house that was kind of secluded from everything else.

You left your phone downstairs on the coffee table, so you didn't know it was blowing up with missed calls and texts from both Noel and Sophie.

Colby walks over, picking it up to look at the notifications on the lock screen, smirking as he reads the messages,

Soph: FUCKING ANSWER ME

Soph: HENRY IS DEAD

Soph: HELLO PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed Call Soph (25)

"Fucking. Bitches." Colby mumbles and sits down on the couch, waiting until he knows you and Sam are finished.

Sam pushes his cock all the way in, pumping his cum deep into you with a moan, "Fuck." He sighs with a smile, "You, my love, are absolutely perfect."

You smile up at him, only to have the door bursted open with Colby running in, "You phone is blowing up, babe."

He hands you the phone and your heart sinks, "No. no, no. No. No." You cover your mouth, fumbling around to call Soph.

"What happened?" Sam asks looking at Colby.

"Henry is dead." Colby shakes his head with a sad look on his face.

"Now you wanna fucking call me back?" Sophie yells and you clench your jaw, "I can't really answer when I'm asleep. Now stop being a bitch and tell me what the fuck is going on."

She's taken aback but you calling her out and she sighs, "Henry was killed, y/n. While Noel and I were in the fucking house.. Henry was fucking... killed." Her voice cracks and you can't help but to feel guilty, "I should have been there."

"No, it's not your fault it my fault. We shouldn't have came here. He tried to talk us out of it, but Noel and I pushed.." her voice cracks, "Fuck. I-I don't.. Noel is a mess. I don't.. oh my god.. can you come get me?"

"Yeah, no of course I can. I'll be right there." You hang up and stand up. You grab a sweatshirt and sweatpants, throwing them on before looking around, "Henry is dead?"

"I'm sorry, babe." Colby pulls you into his chest. You wanted to cry, but you felt like you couldn't, "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know.." Colby sighs, "Starting to freak me out, too."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asks standing up and you look at him, "Yeah, please." You look up at Colby, "How's your head?"

He sighs, "Still hurts, but I thought you needed to know this."

"Thank you. Now go back to bed. I'll let you know what's going on."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You held onto Sam's hand the entire way to the scene. You squeezed his hand the more the blue and red lights filled your view.

The coroner loading the zipped up body bag into the van.

The police talking to Noel and Sophie.

Your heart was racing.

"This is awful.." you mumble as tears well up in your eyes, "Fuck.." you wipe your face and take a deep breath, "I'm going to get Sophie and see where Noel is going."

Sam nods, "I'll be here."

As soon as you get out of the car, you're greeted by Officer Tylers, "Isn't it a bit late for you?"

You roll your eyes, walking past him as you make your way to the girls, "I'm so sorry." You whisper and they both fall into you, sobbing hysterically, trying to speak but it's just mumbles and gasps for air.

Tears stream down your face, "We're going to figure this out. I promise." You lay your hands on the back of their heads, "Come on." You look at the officer, "Are they.. can we go?"

The officer nods, "Yeah, they're good."

You walk them to Sam's car, and of course, Dave is still standing there, "Get home safe now." You ignore him as you help the girls get in, Sam talks to them as you turn to get up front.

"Hey, y/n. Where were you tonight?"

Without any hesitation, "I was home, getting railed by my boyfriends." You shoot him a glare, "Now leave me alone." You get back into the car and Dave walks around to Sam's window, tapping on it.

Sam sighs, rolling it down slightly, "Can I help you, Officer?"

"go easy on this one. She's been through enough already, alright?" Dave motions towards you and Sam keeps his lips together, giving him a forced smile, "No need to worry about that. She's in good hands."

You avoid looking at him the entire time Sam turns around in the driveway, "That dude is a fucking creep."

"Was that Dave?" Sophie sniffles, "I didn't know he was an officer here."

You nod, "Neither did I until he questioned me at the station yesterday."

"That dude has always been weird with you." Sophie adds, which catches Sam's attention, "How so?" You shake your head, "We don't need to talk about that right now. Please?"

Sam gives you the, we'll talk about it later, look and takes your hand into his as he focuses on driving you guys back to the house.

It was quiet, all but the sniffles and sobs from the girls in the back. The whole time, you kept thinking about why you didn't really feel remorse for Nina, Levi, and now Henry.

It surprised you. You were usually a person who cared so much, and now you're putting on an act so no one questions you.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Sophie says from the back seat. Sam looks at her in the rear view, "For snapping at you and Colby. You guys were just trying to figure out what happened and I didn't need to be a bitch."

Sam shakes his head, "no worries, Soph."

"I'm going to tell Colby, too. You guys didn't deserve that." Sophie leans back, rubbing Noel's back, "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to puke." Noel lays a hand over your mouth and Sam stops right as she opens the door, spitting on the ground outside.

You turn around, holding onto the seat as you reach out, holding what you can reach of her hair back, "Let it out. It's okay."

Sam admires how caring you are of your friends, the people you love. But to him, that's not an invitation for them to take advantage of that, be nasty then expect her to pick up right where they left off, forgetting it even happened.

Sam believes you're too good for everyone in this town. Hell, him and Colby sometimes tell each other that you're too good for them, but you make them realize that they need you, without even realizing it yourself.

They're obsessed with you.

Your body.

Your personality.

The way you carry yourself, even on the worst days.

You're the reason Sam and Colby get up everyday.

You're the reason as to why they started killing.

At first, they wouldn't have even thought about committing a murder, but once the words about what happened left your drunken lips, they vowed that from that day on, you weren't ever going to get hurt again, and if you did, they'll hurt who hurt you, ten times over.

Henry's death was more personal, as said. He disrespected Sam, and that's not something you do when Colby is around.

They've fantasized together about you killing with them. Thinking about seeing you pull one of their knives out, plunging it deep it into someone flesh and twisting.

I wasn't until you tapped Sam's cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts that he realized he was staring, "Hmm. Sorry." He chuckles slightly and faces forward, starting to drive once your back in your seat correctly.

His hand goes to your leg, and he squeezes. You bite your lip, laying your hand over his.

"Who would want to kill Henry?" Noel whispers as she starts to sob, "Why him? He didn't do anything wrong." Her hands fall into her lap and she leans on Sophie, "I loved him."

"I know you did." Sophie sniffles, "We all loved Henry. He was such an asshole, but he was one of the funny, good assholes."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that he was."

"You guys hungry or anything?" Sam asks looking back and they shake their heads. Noel laughs slightly, "I don't think I'm ever eating again, honestly."

"I've never seen a dead body, and the fact-" Sophie takes a sharp breath, trying not to cry again, "I'm so mad."

You thought it was a little strange that Sophie was so distraught, like yes. They were all friends and always hung out, but she's acting like it was her boyfriend that died.

"Any news on Eli?" You look back at Soph and she nods, "Nope. Still in holding." You frown, "Well they can't hold him. He obviously didn't do this because Henry died while he was in there."

She nods, "You're right. They can't keep him because this proves it wasn't him." She sighs, "Fuck. This whole thing is a fucking mess."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

PART TWO

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #colby brock #sam and colby one shots #dirty one shot #one shot smut #smut #sam golbach #samandcolby-ownme #colby brock smut #sam and colby smut one shots #colby brock smut one shot #sam and colby x reader smut #sam golbach smut #smut one shots #smut writer #smut oneshot #sam and colby x reader #ghostface!sam Golbach #ghostface!colby Brock #ghostface #sam and colby imagines #sam and Colby smut one shot #dirty sam golbach one shots #sam golbach dirty one shot #dirty colby brock oneshots #colby brock dirty one shots #sam golbach dirty one shots #colby brock dirty imagines #dirty one shots

[luvring]

PHOTO OF YOU

suna x gn!reader | rin comes home and sees the new photo of him you've gotten

note from nia: if anyone does another character w my idea i am humbly asking u to tag me because i think it's fun and silly

“what the hell is that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean why is my face on the back of your phone?” suna asks, laughing in disbelief.

you turn your phone to look at its back with the photo of him sitting in a pink photo holder. he’s mid-laugh, head resting on your lap, and plushie under his chin. your aforementioned boyfriend stands above your spot curled up on the couch, and waits with a tilted head for an explanation. “you don’t like it? it’s a photocard.”

“it—” he snorts before reaching for your phone to inspect it. you hand it over and his lips twitch into a smile. “am i a k-idol now?”

“maybe. you tell me.” you shrug. rin carefully takes off your phone case to look at himself, even moving so the light from outside would give him a better view. you gesture to the photocard with an accomplished grin. “i even got a sleeve and decorated it.”

“mhm, i see that, baby,” he replies breathily. you watch as he rubs the different stickers and tilts the holder, letting the sparkly stickers reflect back at him. if he had passed your desk he would have seen the sticker sheets you bought specifically for this, alongside the different layouts you had planned out. “where’d you even get this printed?” he asks.

“i have my ways.”

rin shakes his head, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before looking at you. “no, i need to know so i can print one of you.”

“what?” he only continues to look at you, a smile growing on his face.

you squint at him in return. "rintarou." he bends down to place your phone and photo on the coffee table, then moves to join you on the couch. if there was something you knew about suna rintarou, it was that he’d always, always go through with a bit. if you didn’t stop him now, he’d start ordering photocards of you and pretend to unbox them, saying something about always managing to pull the rarest ones.

you groan at the new weight on top of you as he shifts to lie down properly. “rin, oh my god, you’re going to smush to me. and also no way are you getting one.”

he hums and wraps his arms around your waist, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his laugh against your skin. “why not? i want a photocard of you.”

“no, you don’t deserve my photocard.”

“but we could match, babe. don't you think we’d be cute? i could decorate my sleeve, too.” rin looks up at you with an exaggerated pout. you pinch his cheek and snicker at his unamused frown. “no, you’d pick an awful photo and i’d have to kill you out of principle.”

“uh-huh, just don’t get blood on my picture then,”—he turns his head to bite onto your finger and grins as you pull it away—“it’ll be the one and only copy, worth your rent in just a year.”

“so you admit you’d pick a terrible photo?”

“no, i’d pick a good one,” he says plainly. the look you give him is so obviously mistrusting that rin laughs loudly. he shifts up to plant a kiss to your jaw and counters softly, “i would, it’d be the one i have as my lockscreen. promise.”

his lockscreen had been the same photo of you for months; it was a selfie you had taken on his phone, close up and face smushed against his pillow. the first time you asked about it, rin had told you he’d look at it when he was away and didn’t want to wake you, and imagined you were there beside him.

he looks at you expectantly, waiting for approval. your own expression softens and after a second, you sigh. “god. yeah, okay. i can’t believe we’re going to have photocards of each other.”

“seriously? you did it first.”

“as a joke, and you’re going with it.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re cute and i love you.” you stutter and he smirks, deciding to give you the small mercy of not commenting on it. “i’m gonna print a bunch and start a collection, y’know.”

the idea makes you groan. “can you just make your own and sell them so we can be rich?”

you feel his laugh before getting his agreement. “i can do both of those things. i'll even get the team on board and spoil you with our incredible profit.”

“oh, wow. will i get credit?”

“yeah. something, something copyright law or whatever.” you're 100% sure that was bullshit, but hum despite it. “m’kay. that’s the plan, then.”

and you think that’s the end of it, and quietly ask rin to hand you your phone again. even if it was as a joke, you spent more time on decorating the sleeve than expected and wanted it back in your case. he manages to grab and pass it to you but the sight of himself gets rin's mind on his own photocard again. he looks at you sheepishly. “...can i seriously take your stuff to decorate the card sleeve, though?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #x reader #haikyuu fluff

[webslingingslasher]

i just know that if trouble told frat!peter a guy was harassing her on snap or smth he would take her phone and talk to him himself,

“trouble tf you mean someone’s bothering you? give that to me, imma talk to him rq” i luv it bad when he gets mad in troubles defense 😫

peter breaking out the big bad B word....

it's the eighth time your phone rang since you've been at peter's, and he's not one to pry, but god damn someone's ringing your phone off the hook.

you stare at the contact in disgust and throw it next to you on the bed, peter counts to ten before asking. 'who keeps calling?'

'this fucking guy,' it's huffed, immediately the hair goes up on peter's neck. 'who? what guy?' he wants to add 'should i fucking kill him?' but refrains.

'my lit partner! he was actually really nice at first but then he asked me out and i rejected and he was totally cool with it, but now he keeps blowing my phone up trying to 'be friends.'' you use air quotes at the end, peter can read through your annoyance and into the uncomfortable zone.

your phone starts again, you almost want to cry at the frustration, why can't some guys accept 'no' as a full answer?

peter pulls himself closer on the wheels of his desk chair, he holds his hand out and gestures for your phone. you hand it over, watching closely, you wonder if he's about to block his number.

he goes one step further.

'hello?' it's sharp, you hide your mouth behind your hand.

'looking right at her, yup.' he is too, peter has a deep line in the middle of his brows. 'is it about class, or about being friends?' you wish you could hear the opposite side, especially when peter takes a deep breath, whatever was said, he didn't like.

'i'm her fucking boyfriend.' it's spit with fury, your chest tightens and releases. not once has peter ever referred to himself as your boyfriend, but he shot the words out with such aggression you want to wrap yourself around him.

'uh huh... yeah, you too.' peter ends the call, handing back your phone. he can see the adoration pooling from your eyes, and he knows exactly why.

peter points with warning, 'not one fucking word.' you blink fast, he spins back around for his desk. you open your mouth, it's like he can sense it.

'not one word, trouble. i mean it.'

you sigh, 'okay, thanks.... boyfriend.' you mumble the end, but he heard it clear as day.

'trouble! i said not-'

'a word! all i said was thank you!'

you can almost hear his blood pressure rising, but all he does is click his tongue. 'uh huh.'

#frat!peter drabbles

[al1fers-haven]

Adam x Innocent Sinner Reader?

Like, a reader who is a sinner but only because they went to hell on accident or the sin they did was so minor/they were forced into it?

Adam finds them during an extermination and they're just trying to calm down some kids and he's just like "aw, I can't hurt you 🥺"

They totally don't remind him of Eve, totally not

Sorry if that's a bit much >-<

AHH (as much as i hate Adam, they designed him way too good) ; 0 ;

I am so sorry about how long this took and how short it is, Adam is harder to write for since I don't see much of him in the show. but I hope this did well!

Adam x Sinner! reader You hadn't really done much in your life, let alone your death. You tried and tried to stay away from trouble when you were alive. And the only thing you could think of was stealing a couple things as a teenager. But everyone made those little mistakes, right?

The sound of the sinners running around in the streets and screaming was as evident as the smell of blood. The angels flew around the streets and killed many of the inhabitants in the area. You looked back at the group of children behind you, panic flowing through your body as you pushed them back towards the classroom corner, staying as far away from the windows and the door. "M-Ms.L/n. What's going on?" The little girl tugged on your jacket, letting out a sniffle as she hugged onto your leg. Your eyes widened a little as you sighed. Turning around and leaning down in front of her. "Sweetie....you remember how mommy said at the meeting that she was worried about that extermination thing? Yeah! Well- that's happening right now.." The little girl nodded, a couple of the children letting out yelps and screams as the door to the classroom slammed open. A couple of holy-looking beings wearing helmets and masks run into the room. "There! Look at those-" You stood up, shielding the students behind you with your body. The larger demon with a golden face looked towards you, laughing a bit. "You see this shit? Am I seeing this shit, Lute?" One of the exterminators shaking her head no. "You stay away from them! They have done nothing!" Adam looked towards you giggling, letting out a loud groan as he stared at you and the group for a bit. "Fuck! You're making it really hard to kill ya' hottie. Doing this selfless shit in front of me...." He looked you up and down, his heartbeat speeding up as he saw you now. Your bright blue glowing eyes and the more human-like features reminded him a lot of his second wife. Your black hair went down to your waist and you shielding the children reminded him a lot of how Eve had shielded their song, Cain. "Fuck!!" Lute blinked a couple times, looking over Adam's shoulder with a quirked brow. "You...you aren't going to hurt us...?" Your stance weakened a little bit, looking confused as you kept one of the children from looking out. Tears flowed from many of the students. "Awh! No, I could never babe! Damn, I have a soft spot huh? Gotta work on that shit. Hey! Lute! Danger tits, write that down in my log. 'Work on marital problems'." The woman nodded, walking over to the door with a notepad. "What are you doing here? Peter mess up?" Adam walked around you, huffing a little bit as he sent his little angels away. A couple of children walk out from behind you. "Im...I stole a bit. That's all. I'm glad to be here- so I could help these children--" Adam hummed, nodding. seeming not to care that much anymore as he sat in your desk chair. "Yeah- uh-huh. Sure. Okay miss virtue, You got boring. Tell anyone I spared you and I'll be back quicker than you want." He pointed at you, patting one of the children, and walked out of the door yelling for that woman.

"...what the fuck?" You quickly covered your mouth, looking down at the gawking 5-year-olds.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel lute #x reader #soft adam #hazbin hotel fandom #i hate him but they wrote him so well

[zombiemollusk]

so i wanna talk about merna

merna was a little caterpillar kid who hatched from an egg, so named due to being the child of jana and mertreon; this naming convention becomes important later.

incidentally, jana would later request to be my spouse, to which i agreed because why not, i'll marry almost anyone who asks me in this game, but in any case, this made merna my stepkid.

i raised the baby with love, etc. etc., got them up to rank ten, and eventually...

...they became my first disciple, and so far the only one who's asked (the others i picked).

they were uh. very dedicated.

anyway, all's going hunky dory, when one day an incredible development happened:

i didn't know followers could fall in love with each other at all (as opposed to just falling for me) until this happened, and i certainly didn't expect it to be my stepkid with my pet cat narinder.

i decided this opportunity was too good to waste, so...

...and then...

...voilà, weird lumpy baby!

remember what i said about my method for naming babies? well, guess what.

that's right, the one who waits had a baby and i named it merder.

side note, merder would go on to be the first of my followers to request that i, you guessed it...

...fucking murder someone. yeah, that's nari's kid alright, and i named them well.

anyway, back to the- what's this?

merna has fallen in love with leshy! well, i'm not about to claim full monopoly on polyamory (i feel like there's a pun in there), and the first baby was so cute, so i had them make an egg as well.

before i continue, here's leshy graciously thanking me for getting him laid:

anyway, mershy was born.

so after tha- huh?

well.

unfortunately i didn't get screenshots of the next two, but in summary:

that's right, everyone: my stepkid and disciple, merna, successfully turned the entire bishop pantheon into their harem.

and as i'm not one to waste an opportunity like this, i'd like to introduce you all to...

...my collection of weird lumpy stepgrandchildren (plus merna wearing a lovely hat there).

and yes, i made them all disciples.

they would go on to have romantic adventures of their own, many of which being with their aunt/uncles/whatever-the-gender-neutral-word-for-those-is to my increasing horror, disgust, and endless amusement; mershy asked me, their stepgrandparent, for my hand in marriage once (i turned them down; i did say almost anyone; definitely not my own grandkid, blood-related or not); mermar did not ask for my hand in marriage but did ask for a wedding dress and a wedding suit to wear (the game wouldn't let me without marrying them so i didn't do that either, though weirdly enough they spoke as if i made the dress when they requested the suit), and merder became lovers and had a child with a follower who asked me to kill someone as a prank, because of course that's merder's type. but sadly this post is running out of space for images so i won't be posting pics of all that, and this post is about merna anyway.

now, i can't say they're perfect in love...

...or as a parent...

...but i still couldn't ask for a better, more memorable first disciple of the game.

here's to you, merna. please keep being you for as long as i play the specific save file in which you reside. 💖

#cult of the lamb #long post #merna the disciple #leshy #heket #narinder #the one who waits #kallamar #shamura #cotl spoilers #but seriously bishop harem was one of the funniest developments that ever happened in my playthrough #i needed to share it with the world

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 17 all chapters

WARNINGS: THE MOST YANDERE CHAPTER OF THIS YANDERE FIC YET. POSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT. PLZ TAKE CARE. I LUV U ALL.😘

-In the haze between sleep and waking, you are vaguely aware of strong arms wrapped around you, a lean and long body spooned at your back. You feel warm, and safe, and by some signal of scent or touch or cosmic connection from your hindbrain, somehow you just know that it’s Mr. Wick who has you folded up in his embrace. How perfectly you fit, with the curve of your backside tucked against his hips, your legs tangled under the covers.

Your Half Asleep Brain is totally fine with this cozy arrangement. You don’t really remember how you got here, but maybe something for once actually went right.

You let yourself doze.

But then he shifts against you, (that inevitable male hardness poking against your backside), and you wake up a little more, your faculties returning to you as the dreamy curtain of slumber slips away. You start to remember what happened before—the chase, and the murder—and Awake Brain is suddenly not ok with your current arrangement at all.  

Awake Brain is ready to freak the fuck out.

You stiffen in his arms, trying to sit up, but that inexorable grip tightens around you.

“Easy.”

You struggle, but he effortlessly pins you, wrapping a long leg around yours. Between his greater strength and solid weight pressing you down into the mattress, you are stuck. 

“Let me go,” you growl. 

“Not until we have a little talk.” 

Under different circumstances this position could have been interesting. The hard line of his lean body is pressed against you…the length of him against the curve of your bottom.

At least someone is having a good time. 

Even like this from behind, you can tell it’s something to be reckoned with. The thought fills you with an inconvenient bloom of heat, your body betraying you while skipping into the darkness with a song. Your own reaction to him almost makes you angrier than his own actions.

“What the fuck, John?” You strain against him again, naturally, to no avail. He doesn't taunt you, just holds you immobile, and you are a butterfly against a hurricane. 

“Calm down.” 

“Then let me go.” 

You feel him breathe in the scent of your hair behind your ear, before releasing a shuddering sigh.

“We’re in a predicament, y/n.”

“No shit.”

“I think after what you saw...you know I can't let you go.” 

Oh, what's a little quadruple homicide between friends? 

You have the sense to keep this to yourself, at least.

“I won't say anything.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I didn't say anything about the guys in the van.” 

“Well, you didn't have any real evidence then. Just suspicion.” 

“But...you so killed those guys in the van.” 

There’s a long pause before he finally admits, “Yeah.”

You’re not sure why that makes you try to struggle again. It’s just as fruitless as before.

“Who were those guys you killed?” 

You are met with silence. “In Venice?”

Jesus, do you actually have to clarify with this man?

“They were not nice people, y/n.”

“I gathered that. But... who were they?” 

John sighs against you, and you take some heart as you feel his grip loosen slightly so he’s not absolutely crushing you. “They were enforcers for the Camorra crime syndicate.”

“And...why did they have such a problem with you?” 

“Bad blood, from an old job I did in Rome.”

A job. You’ve seen enough movies to know what that means. He really was a hitman. Jesus H Christ.

“You thought they wouldn't want revenge, if you went back to Italy?” 

“I had to risk it.” 

“Did you?” 

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You’re baiting him, but you just can’t help it. You’re angry, and you’re sore, and he’s pinning you down like you’re just a feather and you do not fucking like it.

You feel him growl behind you, and fuck you if the low vibration does not strike some primal cord in your body, something left over from the time when your ancestors still lived in caves.

He moves so fast you have no chance to take advantage, turning you so that you are laying chest to chest. His erection presses into your hip, and he pins you with those beautiful dark eyes boring down into yours. It takes every iota of self-control you possess not to spread your legs so that he can settle into the cradle of your hips, where you fear he would fit so very well. 

He traps your small hands above your head with just one of his, using the other to hold the side of your face, keeping your attention on him. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t, but you are finding you like it when he touches you like this, like he is your master and you are his pretty little doll to manipulate how he pleases.

Your eyes close, just for a moment, before you force yourself to keep them open. Keep your eye on the danger, a voice in your head tells you. 

A less helpful voice suggests that you just give in and let him fuck you silly. 

You ignore that one, for now. 

“Because,” he grouses with a scowl. “I was afraid you’d meet some handsome dipshit your own age, and…move to fucking Argentina!”

You don’t know where you get the pluck to frown back up at him. This poor, dear, deranged man.

“John…”

Do you know how crazy you sound?

You don't dare say it out loud. 

Maybe it would have been smart to try to win points by assuring him you were coming back to him. It was even 100 percent the truth at the time. But something spiteful in you doesn’t want to offer him that declaration now. You feel like he lost his right to it.

That laser-like stare shifts from your eyes to your mouth, a moment before descending to press his lips to yours. His lips are soft, but the kiss is nothing less than possessive. Even so, you have to fight not to let him lull you with his clever mouth and the tantalizing slide of his tongue. 

A fresh wave of anger hits you, because you want this. You want him, and he could have had you so easily, without having to…what? Stalk you? Take you?

You realize you don't even know where you are. 

All this accumulates in you in the matter of a second, and you express this frustration by clamping his lip between your teeth. It's more a warning, than anything. You do not draw blood, but you bite hard enough to make him pause. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” It’s almost funny, the way he sounds talking around his lip in your teeth. Yet somehow, he still manages to sound absolutely menacing.

“Or what?” you challenge. “Are you going to hurt me, John?”

Yes, taunt the man you saw kill four people easy as pouring a bowl of cereal.

“No. But I will punish you. Remember that, as we go forward.” 

You let him go, thinking on that.

It makes a chill run down your spine.

He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your face away. 

“Please let me up.” 

He is silent and still as the mountain, for long enough that you don’t think he will. You imagine he’s weighing his options, and you know as well as he does that he holds all the cards in his oh-so-capable hands. He could finally take you, like this, and you couldn’t stop him. As fucked up as it is…you’re not even sure you wouldn’t enjoy it, and you battle with yourself not to squirm beneath him in this fucked up stew of fear, desire, and anticipation.

That will not help your cause, you know.

He surprises the hell out of you when finally he agrees, “I will, if you promise to be calm.”

“I’m cool as a fucking cucumber.”

He ducks to huff a laugh into the bend of your neck. You feel it stir your hair more than hear it. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse that makes you flush, a spear of longing jetting through you, and you barely manage not to wrap your legs around his narrow hips.

This man. It’s just not fucking fair.

Then he sucks, hard enough to hurt, and you know there will be a bruise.

He’s fucking marking you.

“I’m serious.”

You breathe in as deeply as you can with his solid, delicious weight piled on you, and let it out slow. “I’m good. Please, let me up.”

Though you can tell he’s reluctant to do it, very slowly he shifts his weight from you, rolling onto his back at your side. You sit up, pushing off the covers, and find the room is spinning slightly.

What the fuck did he drug you with?

You look around. The room is painted in dark shades, the ceiling vaulted high. Bookshelves take up the wall behind the bed.  A bank of windows affords a view of the woods beyond. You are up high, the second story, at least.

You recognize these woods, and the feeling of this interior. 

“Are we back in fucking Clear Forks?”

“Yes. We’re safe here.”

You blink down at him. He sounds almost reasonable now, and maybe the fact that he let you up makes you think you can reason with him.

“John…you have to let me go.” 

“Can't.” 

“You have to.” 

He just shakes his head. 

“So...what? You're going to keep me locked up here forever?” 

He licks his lips, pressing them in thought as he choses his next words. “Until... we've reached an understanding. That might take a while.” 

You stare down at him, open mouthed.

“John...you can't just keep me here.” 

“I can, actually.” He just looks at you with his hands behind his head, resembling for all the world a lazy lion on the plain, deadly but at ease like it's not your entire life he's casually high jacking for his own gratification. Then strangely he looks away, as though he actually is embarrassed about something, letting out a slow breath. “And...I want to.” 

“What?”

His gaze returns to yours, his glittering black eyes sharp and as obsidian. “I. Want. You. To stay here with me. I need you.” 

God damn if hearing him say those words doesn't make your traitor of a heart go pitter pat pat.

Keeping your eyes on him as though you are in bed with a tiger, you slide off the edge, your legs jelly beneath you. How long have you been out? What did he drug you with? Your mouth is so dry. Maybe you should be grateful he didn’t hit you to knock you out, at least. That’s never so nice and neat as it is in the movies.  

You're still wearing your same little pink sundress from Italy, which maybe is a little heartening, not that it provides much protection. 

Your heart in your throat, you want to run mad circles around the room yelling, banging on the windows and rattling the doors. Instead you make yourself stay calm as you look around, checking your options, not caring if John is watching.

You don't care, because deep down, you already know it's hopeless. He's not a stupid man. You inspect the door, finding no door handle, no lock that could be picked. There is simply a keypad and what looks like a fingerprint scanner. You notice it is mounted high over your head, so it would be hard for you to access even if somehow you managed to render him unconscious. 

You knock on the window with your fist, just for the hell of it. 

“Ballistic grade, bullet proof. Good luck.”

He sounds so bored about it, like it's not a big deal that his armored glass stands between you and your freedom. Yet, you doubt the glass was originally for your benefit.

“Bulletproof, in case the Camorra come for you?”

“Them, or others. I’ve made a few enemies over the years.”

You’re not proud that this freaks you out a little.

“And you really think you’re safe here?”

“So far, so good…”

You glare at him over your shoulder, and damn him for looking utterly scrumptious while being such an asshole.

He's wearing a black henley and sweatpants, and he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. You could write sonnets about the little strip of pale flesh exposed between his hem and his waistband.

Despite how fit he is, you notice his tummy is just a little soft. It's endlessly endearing, and in different circumstances you would have delighted in pressing your lips to that line of dark hair, and pulling down his sweatpants with your teeth…

You realize you are staring, and with cheeks aflame you avert your gaze. You notice he’s smirking at you, and it makes you mad all over again, your fists clenching at your sides.

He seems to find this amusing as hell.  

“You don’t have to look away,” he coaxes, surprisingly gentle. “I like it, that you like my body.”

You huff indignantly, inevitably remembering how adamantly he’d prevented you from undressing him, what feels like a lifetime ago now. “Then why wouldn’t you let me see you?”

“That was…different.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you were ready. I didn’t want to scare you.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “Gee, are your guns that big, Mr. Wick?”

This wins you a small laugh, and only belatedly do you realize how sick it is that you’re joking around with him again.

This is not normal. This is not normal. This is not normal.

You have a feeling it’s going to have to become your new mantra.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says enigmatically. It makes the hairs stand up all over your body, even as your idiotic nether regions clench with desire at the thought.

You have got to get out of here.

“Aren’t they going to think it’s weird I just disappeared without a trace from the hostel?” you pose.

“Probably not. You collected your things, and you paid in full.”

Of course he’d taken care of that.

Then the scope of this coup really dawns on you. 

“You clever motherfucker. No one will even look for me here, because they think I'm in Europe for weeks more.” 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. 

“You have a filthy fucking mouth, my dear. I'd watch that, if I were you.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, but don't push your luck just yet. 

“But no, no one will be looking for you. Your family and your friends are so busy...”

You close your eyes against his cruel—but perfectly accurate—words. My, how the truth cuts deep.

His tone softens as he tells you, “You don't need them, y/n. You have me. And I promise I'll take care of you.” 

You don’t bother to argue again that you don’t need taking care of. You’re beginning to anticipate his answers, and it’s like arguing with a stone wall.

You’ll need a different tack, you think.

Agitated, you stalk to the next door in the room, flinging it open. It’s a walk-in closet, filled with his clothes, and you realize, clothes for you as well. They’re cute, and to your taste, the bright colors an almost comical contrast to his monochromatic wardrobe. But they’re more expensive than anything you can usually afford. They’re all your size.

Your heart sinks to your feet as you realize this means he’s actually been planning this for a while. 

The next door is half cracked. You push it all the way open.

To say that it's a bathroom seems like an understatement. All dark marble and black cabinetry, there are two sinks and a long countertop, a walk-in rain shower that could fit 6, and a tub that could be mistaken for a small swimming pool. The corners are accented with lush houseplants, ferns and philodendron. It looks wonderful, and you’re furious all over again, because you can't fucking enjoy it like this. 

“Why?” you spit, whirling. Only to start when you find him standing right there behind you. You didn't hear a thing. “Why did you have to do it this way?” With him standing so close, you find your words lose some of their intended venom. 

He crowds you against the doorjamb, lifting a hand to your face again.

“Because I was afraid you wouldn't come back to me.” 

This tall, powerful man sounds ridiculously vulnerable just then. 

But like flipping a switch, he frowns, his long fingers resting lightly around your throat. A chill runs down your spine, and you're sure he can feel your pulse in your neck speeding against his fingers. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t hurt you. Just…holds you, and you are ever so aware that you are at his mercy.

“You ran away from me,” he accuses.

Maybe your sense of self-preservation is a little broken.

“I can't imagine why.” You punctuate it with an eyeroll, and suddenly you find yourself pushed into the wall with a hand spread over your chest, the ridges of the jamb biting into your spine. His thumb presses over your lips, preventing you from speaking further. 

“That fucking mouth of yours.” 

Before you can blink he is on you, pressing his lips to yours in a punishing kiss that leaves you weak in the knees. Maybe you start to slump down the wall, but he wraps you up in his arms, holding you up effortlessly. 

“This is how it's going to be,” he pants, his forehead pressed to yours. You get the sense that he is on the verge of losing control, and you are on pins and needles, wanting to know what that would be like, and fearing it too.

You fear it a lot.

“You can run that sassy mouth of yours all you want, but I will enjoy disciplining you for it every time. You might want to start thinking before you speak.”

“You want to hurt me.” 

Tears fill your eyes at the thought of it. Maybe you’re a little broken yourself, after seeing him kill people, but this is the thing that really makes you cry. Of course he probably has some kind of fucking red room around here filled with restraints and whips and toys you've never even fucking heard of… 

“No, baby. I never want to hurt you.” 

You don't believe him in the slightest. 

With a big hand on your jaw he turns your face up to look at him. “Please don't cry.” 

“Then don't do...whatever the fuck this is! You fucking kidnapped me, John!”

“I took what's mine,” he insists in a dark tone that makes inexplicable heat flood between your legs. “You forced my hand.”

It’s all your fault, of course.

“Did you really think I was just going to follow you after all that?”

He cants his head as he looks down at you, his dark hair swinging into his eyes. Your fingers itch to brush it away, and you hate the way the sight pangs deep in your chest. You shouldn’t feel anything for him, after what he’s done—your heart has not gotten the memo, it seems.

“You asked me not to let you go.”

Motherfucker took that literally, it seems.

The ironic thing is, you’d 300 percent meant what you said, at the time.

“I did not sign up for this,” you insist anyway.

“I’ve tried to warn you…since the moment we met,” he tells you. “But you just kept coming back. And now…I need you, y/n. I love you, and I’m never going to let you go.”

What a ridiculous creature you are, that hearing this moves you to the marrow of your bones, makes you almost sick with a medley of triumph and remorse, desire and fear. You’d so determinedly pried open the lid of this Pandora’s box with the dogged insistence of your affection; look at what a marvelous horror you unleashed. Mr. Wick: your very own monster made of dark need and twisted devotion.

This is all so…crazy.

Yet...he doesn't seem like he's crazy. Just absolutely, unmovingly, resolute in his conviction. And right now, that conviction involves his possession of you. 

You close your eyes against his gaze boring a hole through you. Your voice barely lifts above a whisper, your strength suddenly sapped. “I could have loved you.”

It’s a lie, of course.

A lie, because you are already hopelessly, totally in love with this man, despite what he’s done to you, and despite everything you’ve seen him do.

You’ve seen the other side of his coin, you know how sweet and wonderful he can be. Where is that man when you need him? Once upon a time, he absolutely was your safe space, your protector, someone you could turn to when you truly had no one else.

Now, who would protect you, from him?

 It breaks your heart, because you fear the answer is that no one can.  

“You will love me, y/n,” he insists without a hint of doubt. To be so certain...of anything. He brushes your hair behind your ear with such tenderness you could weep.

A single tear does escape from the corner of your eye. He catches it on the pad of his finger, bringing it to his lips. 

“It will be alright, y/n. I've got you.” 

That is exactly what you're afraid of. 

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere #yandere john wick #john wick fanfiction #bittersweet john wick imagine

[hawkinsquarry]

don’t think twice, it’s alright

part 1/6 of wraith pinned to the mist

summary: you’re hellbent on keeping steve safe, but he’s just as hellbent on the same with you. [post s4, some canon divergence]

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; hurt/comfort with steve receiving; unrealized feelings; descriptions of blood/wounds and stitches; alive eddie we can’t do this without him gang

author’s note: idk. idk guys i just love him

He’s groggy. Waking up slowly and gently. Disoriented and so tired he’d might as well give up, but the voices he hears pulls him awake. His heavy lidded eyes slowly force their way open, revealing nothing but a very dark blur.

“Hey,” he hears. He can suddenly feel hands on his forehead, something hard pressed into his thigh. His brows furrow and a bit of panic kicks in. The last thing he remembers is an ungodly creature swinging at him, and now he’s here.

“Hey,” he hears again, and it’s a little clearer now. He relaxes, blinks a couple of times until his vision focuses in on you. “Steve.”

“Oh,” he sighs, relaxing. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you smile. Your hands are on his forehead and it’s then that he notices the dull ache there. He winces and tries to move a hand up, but yours gently pushes it back down. His stomach flips but he doesn’t have his bearings enough to understand why. If he’d been a little less dizzy, he would have noticed the blood on your fingers. “Easy, Steve. It’s okay.”

“‘s goin’ on?” he slurs.

“Nothin’ really,” you say. Something touches right above his eyebrow. “You got a little scratch, that’s all. You remember waking up a few minutes ago?”

He thinks about it hard for a minute before shaking his head. He feels like he would have remembered if you were there. “Uh-uh.”

“That’s okay.” Your voice is warm and soothing. Steve leans into it, relaxing a little further, letting you do whatever. “I’m just patching it up, okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

He scrunches his nose and thinks about it again. “Feel kinda weird.”

“Yeah,” you laugh lightly. “Eddie gave me a Vicodin for you, probably feeling that.”

“Mmm.”’

“You ever have it before?”

He focuses on your voice. “Party once.”

“Really? Who’d’ve thought, huh?”

He smiles lazily, one eye falling shut as the other stays open. His vision is clearing now. Your face is inches from his as you examine the scratch on his forehead, your brows furrowed and your lips downturned. He frowns then, too. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you say again. “Trying to figure out if you have highlights.”

He sighs. With your face so close to his, all he can really feel is a longing that tugs deep in his chest and makes his stomach flip. The pads of your fingers work easy on him, and he can see you biting your cheek in concentration. If he had the energy, he’d lean up to kiss you; instead, he lays and watches, melting at your attention.

“Where are we?”

“Nancy’s.” You pull away with a cotton gauze pad and his eyes widen at the blood. “No, it’s okay, Steve, it’s not bad. Promise. Robin says she’s seen you look worse.”

“Robin,” he repeats. “Where’s Robin?”

“She’s safe, she’s here,” you soothe. Something wet touches his forehead and he correctly assumes it’s rubbing alcohol. He can’t feel the sting, but the smell makes him shiver, albeit quells his nausea. “She’s upstairs with everyone. Everyone’s safe.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales shakily. He jumps a little when you take his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He feels warm at the attention.

“You did good,” you whisper. “But if you ever jump out in front of something again, I’m gonna kill you.”

He laughs bluntly and forces his eyes open again. You’re away from him now. He deflates, searching for you, finding you again in front of him packing up a first aid kit. He sees some floss unraveled and his brows knit together again.

“What’s the floss for?”

“Don’t move your eyebrows, okay? You’ll make it bleed again.”

He gives up on the floss, watching you roll it back up. You grab something small and press it into your palm, which he now realizes is covered in blood. He gasps and tries to sit up, but you quickly shush him and push him back down onto the blankets and pillows below him.

“It’s okay -“

“Why are you bleeding?” he asks, his voice cracking, that panic coming back even though he’s almost delusional with sedation. “What happened?”

You blink. “It’s old blood, I’m not bleeding. I promise.”

“Did something hurt you?” he’s trying to push up again, and you lay him back down, holding him there gently with your hands. “What did I do?”

“You did nothing!” You’re almost admonishing him for it, eyes wild with something Steve can’t decipher. “You - Steve, Christ, you make me so mad sometimes.”

“Why?” he asks stupidly.

Your jaw sets and tears pool in your lash line. “Because - I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can you please just lay here for me?”

He’ll find out later that the blood on your hands is his, but he’s quick to follow your instructions, especially after seeing you so upset. You tuck him in with a blanket, your blood caked hands pushing his hair away from his face. “I’m just going to clean up, okay? Gonna let everyone know you’re alright, and we’ll be back. Do you feel okay?”

Steve can only stare at you. You’re so pretty when you’re upset, and he knows he shouldn’t think that, but wow. Your eyes really sparkle when they’re wet. You’re an angel above him in the dim light of the Wheeler’s basement, a lamp on behind you acting as a halo. He licks his lips and tastes metal, but he doesn’t quite notice. “You’ll come back?”

You sigh and cup his cheek. “Yeah, Steve, I’ll be back, okay?”

He reaches up to put his hand over yours. “Okay.”

It’s not that he’s never really noticed you before, or how his chest gets tight when you’re around, or how he feels like he’d rather go mad and get hurt than ever see you bleed. But it’s like he’s gotten some sense knocked into him. As he watches you descend upstairs, a harsh tug pulls between his nose and throat. He has to focus to not cry, not wanting his brows to furrow and make him bleed like you warned. A shaking, painful exhale escapes his lips. He wants to be good for you and listen to you and never make you mad at him again.

But, that all said, he’ll jump in front of a thousand Demogorgons if it kept you safe.

You could hear everyone pacing upstairs while you stitched Steve up, and as you push the door open with your hip, holding your hands up and away from you, everyone sprints over. They look at you expectantly, a little too intensely, and you have to laugh a little. “He’s okay.”

Robin sighs, eyes avoiding your hands. “He’s an idiot,” she says, for the millionth time. “He’s such an idiot.”

Eddie’s got his head in his hands at the kitchen island. He’s been offering everyone Ativan, but he’s the only one who’s taken any. When he looks up at you he fake gags at the blood on your hands. You roll your eyes and head for the sink, grateful when Jonathan turns it on for you.

“So, he’s okay?” Nancy asks, stepping towards you. “No, like, lasting damage?”

“Uh.” You think about an answer as you lather up your hands. For the first time, your stomach twists at it. You’d been so focused on being a caretaker that you hadn’t had time to think about everything, but now you feel squeamish. “He might have a scar, and I’m pretty sure he’s on concussion twenty-three, but he’s alert.”

You can’t bring him to the hospital because you’d have to admit you were, in fact, monster hunting, which was a punishable offense. You’re thankful Nancy owned a needle and thread - Steve may have bled out otherwise. One wrong move for any of you could be fatal, even if it could typically be cured with medical attention. You force yourself to not think about that now, about the words he said downstairs, about the way his soft brown eyes were looking at you.

“Can we go see him?” Robin asks, halfway through the door.

“Is he still all - like -“ Eddie says, gesturing to his face and making a blech! noise.

“It’s mostly cleaned up,” you say, scrubbing your nails against the palm of your hand, Karen Wheeler’s pristine sink turning crimson. “He’s still handsome, Eddie, don’t worry. Just - don’t say anything to scare him, alright? He doesn’t know he’s stitched up.”

You’re left alone at the sink, illuminated with red and orange from the outside, a thin curtain blocking your view. You try to be as precise as possible with cleaning yourself up so Steve doesn’t worry again. You’re going to rip him a new one when he’s better, lambast him for ever asking what he did wrong when the only thing he’s ever done was care too much and think too little about himself.

You hear their words downstairs - Robin’s thick voice, Eddie’s exclamations - you looked so badass, dude, you busted that thing up! You think of Dustin and the kids, how mad they were that they weren’t allowed to come with you all tonight, but you all decided to not take any chances with them. You know Dustin’s going to lose his shit the moment he sees the criss-cross pattern on Steve’s forehead and you wonder momentarily if you should give him a call to prepare him.

Just as you’re turning off the sink, Jonathan comes bounding up the stairs, looking a little disheveled.

“Don’t like blood?” you ask, wiping your hands with a paper towel.

“Ha,” he deadpans. “He asked for you.”

Your lips pull into a tight line because you know he’s high on painkillers and he’s fixating on you because you’re the first person he saw when he woke up. Probably has questions about what’s happening, or what the hell you did to him. But when you make it downstairs and kneel beside him, he just frowns. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to clean my hands,” you say, holding them up for him. “All better, see?”

He looks past them and at your face. “You said you’d be back.”

“I am now, aren’t I?”

“Good,” he says, laying back and closing his eyes. “Don’t leave again.”

You swallow, chest aching. “Okay.”

“These guys can go.” He waves his hand lazily. “So goddamn loud.”

Eddie proves his point by bursting into laughter, making Steve wince.

“Okay,” you repeat. “How about we all try to rest a little? It’s almost morning, anyway.”

As everyone disperses, finding their own places among blanket forts and pillows, Steve stares at you very seriously.

You reach forward to ruffle his hair. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

He continues to stare, and just when it’s starting to worry you, he finally blinks like he snapped out of a trance. “Will you stay close to me?”

You laugh softly. “You want your nurse nearby, huh?”

“Huh? No, just you.”

Robin makes a noise off to the side - she’s still close enough to monitor him but far enough away that he can’t kick at her. When you look, she’s fighting back a smile, and the idea that she’s seeing this too makes your chest hot. You look back at him, his eyes already closed, gorgeous and miserable.

“Okay,” you whisper, grabbing a pillow and laying it next to him. His arm searches for you, finding your forearm, and he grips it.

“Don’t leave,” he says again, his voice quaking a little.

“I won’t,” you swear, glancing at the wound on his forehead, an anger swelling inside of you unbearably. “I’m right here.”

#han posts #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader

[chocsra]

"I Can't Hear You, Speak Up!"

15! Chuuya x fem! reader

content: you stain your skirt and a certain mafioso comes to help you, swearing, periods/blood, fluff, pre-relationship, mutual pining, teenage romance

Reader is fem! mention of periods

based off a reddit story 😭

Please give some more ideas and characters for fanfiction, I love teen skk btw

12:13

It's been about 8 minutes since you left an important mafia meeting, excusing yourself to Boss to go to the washroom.

Yet now you stare at your bloodstained skirt and underwear, sighing to yourself in defeat. "No pads either.." You mutter, digging your palms into the luxurious marble sink in thought. Theoretically, you could tell Boss that something happened and you taught an underling a lesson while you were out, or you could be frank about your period; which was something really embarrassing considering you'd have to stop the meeting infront of a bunch of grown criminal men for hygiene products.

So you hid behind the ajar white bathroom door, calling out 'hello?'s and 'is someone there?'s everytime a gust of wind made the slightest creek. "11 minutes.." You leaned your head on the steel door, trying your best to cover your skirt.

Then you heard it.

A quiet murmuring coming from the hallway outside the bathroom, you sighed in relief and poked a leg out of the door; the shadows covering half of your face. There he was, Chuuya Nakahara walking around the hallways like there wasn't a highly significant meeting going on; he had a scowl on his face and his fists clenched like something had happened, muttering about 'killing that bastard'.

"Ahem." You cleared your throat, peeking out to the ginger boy, he spun around in mutliple possible directions the noise could have come from. "Huh?!" the short boy shouted, before locking his blue eyes with yours. "The hell? Aren't you supposed to be in the meeting?" He cocks a brow, folding his arms over his chest. Chuuya seemed to be all dressed up for the day, wearing his signature fedora, choker, white dress shirt and black slacks; but a new large raven overcoat that reached his ankles was loosely thrown over his shoulders, even a new silver hat chain.

"I need something from here, that's why." You purse your lips into a pout, crossing your arms behind the door. "Why are you here anyway?" You ask curiously, slowly easing into the topic, the stylish boy only scoffs with irritation. "Got kicked out, all cause of that fuckin' mackerel." Chuuya rolled his tongue across his inner cheek in annoyance, of course you knew who he was talking about; Dazai, his only friend, you think? You did see them attempting to act serious as they kicked each others leg under the table, maybe he deserved it.

"So then where's Dazai?" You question, tapping your shoe against the marble floor. "He got to stay because he was important, or some bullshit!!" Chuuya shouted again, gritting his teeth harshly. "Woah, calm down." You motion before pausing, "Can you just get a girl, please? Like Kouyou or something.. I don't know." you ask politely, a light blush tinting your cheeks; the redhead's eyes only furrow at your request. "I told you already, I got kicked out, Kouyou's inside. What do you need anyway? I'll just get it for you." He feigns a sigh, shoving his hands in his slacks pockets.

You inhale in annoyance, before stepping further into the washroom, "Nevermind, forget it." you dismiss, causing Chuuya to clench his fists even more. "Just tell me, damn it." He scowls in annoyance, before noticing the blush creeping on your cheeks, and the fact that you did not turn around once from facing him. It all clicked together. "Oh, uh-" The boy paused, red tinting his ears and nose. "You want that thing?" Chuuya asks, causing your eyes to light up at seemingly the only boy who knows what hygiene products are. "Yeah, that!"

He then fishes out something from his pocket and hands it to you, you were a little confused as to why he'd keep pads in his pocket, until he placed a silver safety pin in the palm of your hand. "What is this?" You ask with a blank, despairing face; Chuuya only blushes more at your reaction. "Your.. your skirt ripped, right?" He stammers, making you internally facepalm. "No, no.. pads." You whisper the last part awfully quiet, making Chuuya lean his ear closer to your face, his hands still in his pockets.

"What?" He asks, knitting his brows. "Pads, tampons.." You repeat again, motioning with your hands. "What the hell? Speak up!" The boy scowled, leaning even closer to your face, you almost wanted to push him from inching so close to the girl's bathroom; and the close proximity of his breath tickling your lips.

"Pads!"

You shout in his ear with a frown, Chuuya stepped back at the loud noise, now blushing profusely. "Oh shit, my bad- I just thought your skirt-" You cut him off, crossing your arms. "It's fine! Just please get them, damn.." You brush off with a scowl, seeing the boy scurry off to the hallway.

And after a few minutes of agonising silence, you hear loud shouting coming from Mori's office.

"You can't just go thru Rintarou's stuff!!" A high-pitched girl yelled.

Chuuya quickly hushed her, the loud sound of rummaging through drawers audible. "Shh, shh! He's gonna hear us, shit!"

"I don't care if he hears us! Just let me colour!!" Elise then countered, throwing what you assumed was a crayon at him.

The boy soon rushed to the bathroom with multiple types of pads in his hands; night, day, winged, super. "What the hell is winged?! Does it fly to you or somethin'?!" Chuuya yelled, making you laugh. "Did you really fight Elise for this?!" You laughed, taking them all from his hands. "Shut up!"

And as you finished thanking and mocking him, about to spin around and leave to a stall, he tapped your shoulder.

"Here, uhm.." The redhead took off his overcoat and draped it over your shoulders to cover the stain. A pink blush spread on his cheeks, you only did the same. "Thanks.." You grasp onto the coat, walking inside the stall.

And even as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom, walked you back to the meeting room, and parted ways with a meek wave and blush; you walk into the room with a big smile on your face, only seeing that the meeting was already empty and done.

Fuck.

Even so, it wasn't all that bad; even if the incident happened weeks ago, there would always be a certain redhead giving you a casual nod or wave if he saw you wandering the mafia's hallways or available in meetings.

It made you want to make him steal pads from Mori's office and give you his coat all over again.

Double fuck.

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #15 chuuya #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #15 light novel bsd #chuuya x reader #fem!reader

[blushweddinggowns]

His mind was such a mess, Eddie barely knew what he was thinking anymore. But he did know to be annoyed as fuck when his phone rang. He had kept the ringer on high, despite the fact that the only calls he got were from his inner circle asking what the hell was going on. He managed to ignore most of those. But on the off chance it was Chrissy stuck on her layover he didn’t want to miss it.

He didn’t bother checking who it was when he answered. He knew it wouldn’t be Steve. 

“Hello?” Eddie mumbled into the receiver, “Chris?”

“That better mean Chrissy,” Someone huffed, “If you’re seeing someone else already I think that gives me a legal right to kill you.”

Eddie jolted up at the sound of Steve’s voice, “S-Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” He sighed on the other end, sounding way too casual for someone who just turned Eddie’s world upside down, “So how has Europe been? Or was it California?”

Eddie cringed, at a loss for what to say. It wasn’t helping that his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest, “Oh. I-I didn’t- I mean- I’m sorry.”

Steve snorted on the other end, “Yeah, you are. No social media my ass.”

“It’s - I don’t usually use it that much?” Eddie stammered out, “It’s uh, mostly managed by a team but I have the password and - and this is not helping me at all. Is it?”

“No,” Steve agreed, “No, it’s not.”

“Steve I- I know I can’t say anything to fix this. But I-I didn’t want things to turn out like this. I get it, I’m an asshole but you weren’t a joke Steve. I’m the joke. I’m the idiot-you- I mean- I,” he was rambling, badly. Trying and failing to get everything out. 

He had been too lost in the sauce of his own pity party to ever think about this point. Now he was blowing it.

Or so he thought.

Steve sighed again, “Okay, that’s enough of that. Come open the door. I’m outside.”

It took a second for that to compute, “Huh?”

“I’m outside of your door,” Steve said again, “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. 

Eddie rushed to stand, almost instantly eating it when the blood didn’t catch up to his brain. He might have neglected a few bodily needs during the past few days. It just wasn’t enough to stop him from rushing to the door, knocking into every other thing on the way. 

But what was a broken lamp and a few bruises compared to true love?

He wretched the door open, his phone still stupidly at his ear. 

There Steve was, waiting for him. Eddie’s mind had decided to keep the idiot routine going because all he could really do was stare at him, at a total loss for what to do next. 

Steve frowned at him, “Jesus, Eddie. You look… not good.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed, running a hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t exactly been checking any mirrors but he could do the math. No showers, barely any sleep, constant crying. Now that he thought about it he’s pretty sure he hadn’t even changed since their fight. It was bad. Only made worse by the fact Steve was here to see it.

Steve was still frowning as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him to lean on. 

They stared at each other while Eddie’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Is this what a heart attack fet like?

“I don’t really know what to do now,” Steve admitted after another beat of silence, “I kind of thought I would but… I don’t.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie tried, taking a cautious step forward. But Steve put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

He took a deep breathe, “Eddie, what I’m about to say isn’t to hurt you, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

Eddie swallowed, his throat dry and his voice quiet when he answered, “Okay.”

“I think you should go take a shower,” Steve said gently, “Then we can talk.”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #preview #i'm close y'all #I'm writing two different fic chapters at the same time like a dipshit #but i'm close with both of them #damn your love damn your lies

[ushys]

⸻ spider-verse characters reacting to your jealousy

characters: miles, earth-42 miles, miguel, hobie

a/n: i was thinking of making it a story but i thought you making it into little sections with different characters would be better.

cw: fluff, cussing, jealousy, a small mention of killing, gn! reader, that’s it :p

MILES MORALES: he’s kind of oblivious to that kind of thing, which makes it even worse for you. so, when you see him talking to someone who is obviously into him, you’re mad. you’re mad because they’re trying to hit on him and he laughs it off, not knowing their true intentions. it made your blood boil. they would touch his shoulder, laugh a little too hard at his jokes, all that. you walked away and miles noticed this. he said his goodbyes to the other person and chased after you.

“is everything okay babe?” he questioned, brows furrowed as he was confused. “everything’s fine, go talk to your other bae.” you said rolling your eyes and speeding up. “wha? babe what are you talking about- oh. are you jealous?” you stopped and turned to look at him. then you quickly turned around again and said “no.” yup, you were jealous.

“my love, there’s no need to be jealous. they’re just a friend and i would never leave you for them. i don’t even see them like that! i’m sorry for for making you feel this way, i just don’t know what’s wrong and right and i didn’t think they were doing anything weird.” now you felt guilty. “i’m sorry, you didn’t know and i just overreacted.” you later took him to your room and started talking about different ways people hit on others. he made sure to take notes to not upset you ever again.

EARTH 42 MILES: you were on a date with your boyfriend, walking around and looking at different displays that different shops were showing when suddenly, a stranger goes up to him and compliments him. “wow! your jacket is so cute. where did you get it from?” she giggled as she started touching his arm. miles was obviously uncomfortable and shot you a quick glance, watching as your expression went from a content smile to a rude glare towards the girl.

“my bae got it for me.” he replied as he puts his arm around you, holding you close. they quickly change expressions, now having a hurt look on their face. “oh..! haha, i didnt see her there. they’re your s/o..?” they said as he replied instantly. “yeah that’s what i said. why? do you have a problem with that?” “no. whatever. the jacket was ugly anyway.” they said walking past you, purposely bumping into you.

you were about to turn around and confront them but miles stopped you from doing so. “baby, they’re not worth it” he said planting a kiss on your head. “you were jealous weren’t you though?” he smirked as your eyes widen. “nuh uh” “yuh huh” “nuh uh” “it’s okay baby, you’re the only one for me.” he said, making your face warm. “i could never be jealous of them, they’re the one who was jealous. i hate how good looking you are, having to keep going through that” you pouted. “you’re good looking too, you’re ethereal, you get hit on too.” he said, sarcastically rolling his eyes. “but there’s a difference, i talk bad about them, you plan on killing them.” he laughs and shrugs. “oops?”

MIGUEL O’HARA: he would take good care of you, occasionally. his work has been a huge problem between your relationship, you guys could barely hang out a lot. so, to get closer, you decided to join the spider-verse team with him. as his assistant. you were happy he let you be his assistant, even though you practically had to beg him to let you because according to him, “it’s too dangerous” “”you could get hurt” “too much stress”. it’s a good thing that he wanted you to be safe but shouldn’t he let you do what you wanted?

well anyway, as his assistant, your job was to make sure everyone knows what they’re supposed to be doing and helping new members who are joining the spider group feel more comfortable in this new area. so when a new spider-woman joined the team, you knew what you had to do.

“and this is where miguel usually is at! miguel! come down and greet our new member!” you yelled out calling for him. “it’s best if you don’t bother him when you see him doing work, he can get a little.. harsh.” you say as he makes his way towards you. you look at the spider-woman who seems to be biting her lip and smirking. ‘is she okay?’ you thought to yourself as you looked at her and miguel. “welcome, y/n make sure she’s gotten a full tour of the entire building and understands what her job here is.” “oh, but is it okay if you were to help me instead? she’s not that good at explaining things” the woman lied, obviously just trying to get miguel’s attention.

miguel can sense your jealousy as he knew that the woman was trying to hard. he grabbed the woman’s hand, guiding her to another part of the building while he left you there, standing alone, in shock. ‘what?’

after a while, he came back and saw you sitting in your chair next to where he would usually do work at. he walked up to you and questioned you. “is everything all right mi amor?” you ignored him. “amor?” nothing. “silent treatment huh. why is that?” nothing again. “are you okay?” “yeah i’m fine go talk to your other bitch though. ask her if she’s doing fine.” you said, not looking at him and continuing whatever work you were doing. “you were jealous weren’t you.” “no.” “it’s okay mi amor, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” “and why is that” you questioned. “i sent her back to her dimension. she’s never coming back any time soon.”

HOBIE: “babe?” you called out wondering where hobie was. you’ve asked multiple spider-people wondering where he was but they had no idea. until gwen came up to you. “oh hey gwen what’s up? have you seen hobie?” you asked. “oh yeah, i have. that’s what i wanted to tell you. i know where he’s at.” “you do?! oh thank god, i thought he might’ve gone on a mission somewhere and could’ve gotten hurt. so, where is he” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “don’t get mad, because i don’t know much about it, but i’ve seen him walking with someone and i have no clue who they are. i think they’re new. i’ve seen them go into the lunchroom right now. they’re probably still there” someone new huh? that’s weird.

“thank you gwen, i appreciate it.” you hug her as you start walking away. you head to the lunchroom and suddenly you caught eye of hobie with the other person. “who is that?” you whispered. you then saw them getting real touchy with hobie. ‘what the hell are they doing?’ you furrowed your eyebrows, a disgusted look planted on your face. you can see hobie slightly trying to dodge their touches. you let out a small smirk. so, they don’t get the hint that he doesn’t want them.

you started walking up to him and you suddenly appeared next to him. “hello my love.” you planted a small kiss on his cheek, making sure the girl noticed. “hey baby. where have you been?” hobie asked, turning to look at you and putting his arm around your waist. “that’s what i should be asking you, who is this?” you say pointing at the new person, who was clearly furious. they closed her eyes and smiled. “oh! i’m alex! and you are?” they asked, a vein appearing on their forehead. “they’re my s/o.” hobie replied for you. alex slowly opened their eyes and gave you both a blank stare. “oh is that so? sorry to bother you, i’ll be on my way.” they said walking away, not wanting to face the both of you.

“jealous huh?” he said as he smirked at you. “no.” you lied, not wanting to admit it. you were embarrassed. “yeah you were. thank you for saving me. they were making me uncomfortable” he said in a sarcastic tone, even thought what he said was true. “i don’t want anyone taking away what’s mine” you said looking away. “don’t worry, that’s never happening.” he said giving you a kiss on top of your head.

girls next fr 🙈

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #miles spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #earth 1610 miles x reader #miles morales x y/n #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #astv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse