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#cause her death scene is next
fromtheseventhhell · 1 year
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People think Arya is so inherently unworthy that they've even demonized her relationship with her father all because he showed concern and kindness toward her
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enbysiriusblack · 7 months
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thinking about horror film au marauders.. (tw. lotta gore)
lily the nerdy, bossy character that comes out with a giant axe and brutally beats up the killer/s to the shock of every other character
peter is either the bargaining character that tries to bargain and give the killer/s what they want just as he's about to die. or the character secretly on the killer's side that's revealed at the end
definitely giving wolfstar the making out whilst a killer is in their house/car/woods
mary, dorcas, remus, and lily all turning to each other wondering which of them is gonna die first, when they realise they're basically in a horror film cause of the black character dying first trope (i watched the blackening yesterday and the tagline "we can't all die first" gave me this hc. very good film. highly recommend)
sirius is the resident horror film expert that tells them what the killer usually does next (im imagining someone dying and everyone is just screaming over the dying body and sirius is also screaming but then adds in "this is exactly like that scene in wrong turn!"
the screamers are probably mary, remus, and james. not a definite though. i can see it being other people.
marlene gets the most jump scare scenes and emmeline gets the most hearing creaking and footsteps
james is the best at fighting but absolutely hates blood. feel like there needs to be a scene where he's like punching a masked killer and is doing SO WELL. and he gets the killer on the ground and is about to pull the mask off when the killer pulls out a knife and stabs at his hands and chest and shit. and he just screams and backs away staring at his blood until he faints.
as marlene dies, she clutches dorcas' hand and whispers "the lesbians never get a happy ending. apart from fear street... why couldn’t this be like fear street?"
the final girl HAS to be mary. ofc.
#im very much a satire horror fan. in case you couldn’t tell from this.#gonna explain how everyone dies (other than mary) in the tags cause im having ideas now i thought i was finished#idk the order so this is random and not at all chronological#remus- is high as fuck. thinks sirius or james is pranking him and then gets stabbed or whatever#sirius- tries to out horror the killer. tips a bucket of fake blood on them. has a chainsaw and mask#has a bunch of recording devices with sounds he previously made. etc. but then his fucking phone goes off#and he gets so annoyed because thats such a rookie mistake. and he asks to cut and do a retake just before the killer kills him#marlene- kinda already said about her death. but feel like it's def outside like in the street and shes only with dorcas#i already said james' death#lily- feel like there's more than one killer and she manages to kill one. just to turn around and another to get her#dorcas- she gets VERY into it once marlene dies. definitely gets hits in if not killing some of the killers.#but they ultimately get stabbed a lot and they run to marlene's body whilst bleeding out instead of the hospital#and she dies in marlene's dead grasp.#emmeline doesn't get killed for a while. is bait in a plan to catch killer/s but the plan goes wrong and she gets pushed out a high window#i havent mentioned other characters but why not say their deaths.#regulus- he's made to be involved with like a scene in a library where they go to him to ask about some secret history of the town#and then is killed the next day but has s bunch of writings and pages of books around his room about the killers and hes solved it#but the killer burns it all before anyone gets there#pandora- kinda want her to the first death for some reason idk.. like it gets framed as a suicide but so many people dont believe it#and the killings go on#barty- sees the masked killer and like jokes around touching their mask and stuff. and then the killer just like. brings out an axe#and chops his head off#evan- dont know why but im imagining him driving and getting those spikes in the road to lure him out the car#also btw didn't mention peter's death cause im leaning towards him being secretly one of the killers#and gets killed by either lily or dorcas#was gonna say barty and evan could be killers then i realised i made them kill reg and pandora and cas so people would not like that#also no mary death obviously since shes the final girl. survivor ever <3 immortal <3#marauders era#marauders#tw. gore
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stairset · 2 years
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Randomly had a thought that when Luke rushes off to save Han and Leia without finishing his training in Empire Strikes Back and Obi-Wan and Yoda try to talk him into slowing down and not being so rash, TCW actually retroactively adds some extra context to that scene cause Obi-Wan himself was once in the exact same position as Luke when Maul captured Satine and now I’m going insane a bit
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theoldsports · 4 months
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married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
Text
the archer | S.R.
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in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angst
content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.
word count: 5.96k
a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.
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can you see right through me?
Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.
Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”
You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.
The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.
It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.
Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.
“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.
You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”
He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.
“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.
Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”
A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.
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'cause all of my enemies started out friends
Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.
You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.
“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.
Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.
Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”
“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”
Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”
You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”
“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.
You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”
Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”
Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.
When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.
He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”
You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”
The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.
“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.
Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.
You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.
You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.
Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.
Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.
“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.
Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”
You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”
“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.
“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.
Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.
“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”
Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”
“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.
Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”
“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.
You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”
Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”
“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”
Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.
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help me hold on to you
Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.
Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”
That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.
“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.
You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.
He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”
Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”
He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.
“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.
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i've been the archer, i've been the prey
The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.
“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.
You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.
“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.
Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.
“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”
Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.
“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.
Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.
Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”
You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”
He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”
Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”
“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.
You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”
Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.
Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.
It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.
They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working. 
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all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again
The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.
You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.
Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”
Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”
You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.
For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?
Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.
“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.
“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and… a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.
Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.
The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.
“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.
Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”
Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.
“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.
The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”
Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”
You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”
“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.
Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”
“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.
Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”
Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”
You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”
She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”
You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”
Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”
You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”
“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”
Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”
Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”
Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.
You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”
“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.
You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”
“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.
Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”
The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.
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i see right through me
Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.
He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.
“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.
He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”
You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”
He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.
“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.
Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”
You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.
Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”
You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”
“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.
Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.
He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”
“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”
Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”
After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”
“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”
You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”
“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”
Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”
Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”
Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”
“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.
Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”
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who could stay?
You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.
You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.
Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.
“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”
Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.
You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.
Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.
“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.
He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”
“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.
Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.
But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.
So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”
He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”
After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”
“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.
You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.
Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.
When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.
It made your chest ache.
Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”
He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”
“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”
Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.
On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.
you could stay
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please remember to like, reblog, and comment
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months
Note
istg i check your blog religiously 😭 can i request ghost x reader that is rlly insecure of how she looks and bc shes so shy, so she never expected to be in a relationship bc she doesn't believe she ever rlly deserved that, and thinks that ghost will leave her eventually, so when he finds out he comforts her. so like angst to fluff
—Nervous Eyes
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞
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You sit at the bar and turn around your glass of Bourbon, the amber liquid sitting at the bottom as you blink at your reflection with slow eyes. It was late, but you were far from drunk—not even a light buzz was addling your brain with honied thoughts or actions. No, there would be none of that tonight. 
Not when the woman was still hanging off Simon’s arm like a bad rash. 
She was pretty, you admitted; beautiful, even. A sort of natural confidence and the looks to pair—ones that most people would go under a knife for without a second thought. Swallowing down saliva and not the alcohol, you tighten your lips and shove down the feeling in your throat. You shouldn’t be acting like this; you had no reason to. 
There was no doubt in Simon’s loyalty or intentions, but your insecurities still lingered. He’d tried to shove the lady off of him as soon as she’d showed up—growling a ‘piss off’ and a flash of his dark brown gaze. Anyone without a death wish would have darted away immediately; maybe fled the country to be safe. She’d instead taken up the seat next to him and was talking up a storm as his fingers tightened over the tabletop. 
Breathing out slowly, you try not to look at her, generally placid nature a large factor in your hesitation to come out to this place at all. 
Simon was…a lot, you knew. 
Big, scary; all around intimidating with his balaclava, hoodie, and jacket atop. Black gloves—he screamed serial killer except for the fact of his dog tags that clinked with every swivel of his head to you. 
But the allure to his character was what charmed a lot of people, especially in bars when the drinks started to do the talking.
Sometimes you wonder if it was only a matter of time before he found someone better. Better suited to his… demeanor.
Simon’s fingers tapped the table twice to try and get your attention, side-eyeing you with a blank expression of annoyance at the lady’s constant prattle in his ear. 
The woman loudly continues to talk about her ex-husband not a foot away from his face, trying to get into his pants unabashedly. Rage simmers deeply in his chest, but he won’t cause a scene—he can’t leave either. Not without you, and right now, you’re not even glancing at him. 
When you don’t look up at his tapping, a strange emotion sitting on your normally smiling and bright flesh, Simon goes stiff. His shoulders tighten as he stares; attention entirely on you at all times. He sees your sigh, your intentful staring at your reflection with the occasional darting to the woman’s pristine features. 
It puts something into immediate focus, and the Brit’s eyes go to slits. 
Just as you decide it would be better for you to be drunk, staring to bring your glass to your lips, Simon snaps out at your side.
“Bloody slag,” the bar pauses at the monotone but subsequently harsh words yet quickly picks back up again. “Would you fuckin’ shut your mouth? Bastard’s runnin’ more than your damn husband did.” You choke on your drink, pulling back to cough into your arm violently with a sputtering inhale.
While you catch your breath, wide-eyed staring from over your elbow, the woman gapes and blinks like a deer that had been shot through the ribcage; gasping out stuttered questions.
Simon, in a wave of deep anger, takes out his wallet and slams bills to the bartop, sliding off his stool before gliding past you—taking the meat of your arm and pulling you along. Gently, only the slightest pressure to make sure you don’t stumble as your feet meet the floor. 
In your stupor, you follow after quickly, allowing him to drop his grip. 
“S-Simon, what are you—?” When you’re outside, you’re instantaneously corralled down the side of the bar, latched onto, and lifted easily so you’re over one of the man’s shoulders. You yelp, your face burning like fire as your voice goes high-pitched. “Simon!” 
“Seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at yourself,” He grunts out, gritting his teeth as your hands dig into his spine for stability. But he knew just the right amount of force to keep you from falling. “What…? You think I’d give that old broad a good shag? Throw away the prize that I’ve got right in front of me?” 
A harsh scoff echoes out, and seconds later you’re plopped down onto the top of a stack of pallets, hands slapping beside your hips and a clothed face millimeters from your own. You suck in a gasp and stare, entranced by how the lights burst inside of Simon’s pupils as he towers over you, a wall of muscle and will.
“I-I didn’t…I don’t,” you stutter, mouth opening and closing. “I’m not…”
His eyes narrow, scrutinizing you down to your marrow. “Not what, then? Say it.”
There’s no getting out of this.
“Simon,” you see his lips thin through his mask and you sigh, looking away instantly from the shame that courses your bloodstream. To force the words out was a physical pain to you, a dent in your lifespan. Your skin burns and the sting of embarrassment comes into your eyes. 
“I’m not…pretty…” The man stills to near stone, eyes twitching a centimeter wider before they, too, halt all movement. “You shouldn’t have to be bothered every time someone better looking comes over because they don’t realize you’re seeing me—because they’d never think we’d be together. I…I don’t want you to think you’re weighed down by a…a…” 
You lose your train of thought, and the only word coming to mind is a sharp knife to your chest. You glare at this chest, at his tags as they swing, and clench your jaw, taking down shallow breaths from your nostrils. 
Simon utters the very word you dread in a tiny voice, accent deep, “...burden.” 
All you do is shakily nod as the minutes roll past—the shadows grow longer and the night colder. Simon stares and stares, chest pounding with a fast heart and a tight wind of bulk. 
His hands at your hips tighten into fists, grunting, “That’s the worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ‘ad to hear in ages.”
You blink away your unshed tears, darting your vision back up before a hand connects with your jaw and angles it up, balaclava shifted to his nose bridge as Simon pressed his lips to yours in a breath-stealing kiss. Opening your legs, he drags you forward by the small of your back and presses you to him with a growl, hearing your small mewl in answer. 
His grip is firm and all-consuming, as it always is, and his mouth gives the tinge of alcohol and conviction. Hand on the back of your skill, you shudder and sink into him as he presses deeply, dragging each other back and forth with gasps and smacking flesh. Your hands grasp at Simon’s shirt, trailing his abs as he moves back with a grunt and a lick at his red lips.
Saliva gets caught in the corner of his mouth. 
“I’m not leavin’ you unless I get my head blown to bloody bits,” he frowns, dead eyes darting up and down your blown eyes and panting breath. A flicker of a smirk dashes his expression. “So forget about it, Love.” 
Simon’s gaze flashes with a soft reassurance, humming under his breath before he leans in once more. 
“No one tastes like you do,” you drag him back into you as he mutters on your eager lips. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
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TAGS:
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2K notes · View notes
wahta-auqa · 5 months
Text
DC x DP
Part 1 of Family Secrets
Breaking News!
"A new trailer about the Joker Documentary reveals connections to the Wayne Family and the reason for his distent to madness." A Gotham news anchor reports.
"Once upon a time, Joker, revealed to be Jack Napier, a former army soldier. He was secretly engaged to the deceased Wayne heir, Daniel Wayne, who had also served at the same time as the Joker."
The News anchor looks intrigued and curious as she read her lines.
"As many know, Daniel Wayne was assumed to have been killed in a kidnapping gone wrong. His body was discovered on the doorsteps on the Wayne Manor by his now deceased parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne."
"The Documentary, Crown Prince of Crime, outlines the Jokers life, highlighting what may have cause him to become The Joker. The newest trailer, shows the night of Daniel Wayne's death, from what appears to be body camera footage."
"Due to the nature of the footage, we will not be airing it but we do not recommend watching it as it depicts the death of Daniel Wayne and the graphic deaths of others."
The news anchor pauses as she reads her next lines.
"I.. I have to say you.. must see it though. It's my best work?"
The news anchor stops and looks beyond the camera but jumps in her seat as a voice yells out.
"CUT! THATS NOT YOUR LINES, SOMEBODYS HAC-"
The broadcast ends, the title card shows a new image, written The Crown Prince of Crime: The Jokers Beginnings
—————
Bruce is watching the trailer with trepidation. His curiosity getting the better of him. But he had to know, what happened the night his brother died.
The beginning of the trailer showed short cuts of the Joker growing up, from childhood to adulthood. Pictures of his family and time in the army. Photos of Danny.
Title cards giving little context.
It's a boy
First fight
Anger
Army
Hurt
Army
Love
Army
Home
Gotham
Daniel Wayne
Gaining The Smile
The scene shifts from stills to video. The camera shifts back the person recording, jumping from angle to angle, gaining a new perspective with every person who is stood around the Joker and his brother, Daniel. They are soldier like, gear and guns.
Jack is being held at the base of the neck while the soldier holds a knife in his mouth taunting him, threatening to shove it down his throat.
Bruce distantly remembers his brother, who would spend all day entertaining him, reading books and talking about space.
With a swift jerking move, the soldier slices through his cheek and creating half of his iconic joker smile. Jack screams and is trying to hold his face together and falls to his knees in pain. The soldier behind him grabs his collar and barks at him to 'watch.'
Bruce can distantly hear running footsteps and yelling voices. 'Where is he?' Bruce knows that he should turn away.
Danny cried out from below the other soldiers, trying to break free and get to Jack. "Shut him up" commands the soldier holding Jack.
He was frozen though, just like that night.
*bang*
His studys door is now open.
Danny's movements and struggles to get free stop with a bullet to the head.
"Master Bruce!"
Jack slumps in the hold of the soldier, looking at Danny.
"BRUCE"
Jack like a rabid animal starts fighting back more, screaming for Danny.
"MASTER BRUCE, STOP WATCHING THAT AT ONCE" he's never heard Alfred yell so load before.
"DANNY!DANNY!DANNY!" The soldiers let him jump to Danny. Before he turn on them.
Someone stands in his way. "Father you must not"
Bruce can still hear the gunshots and yelling from the TV as his family surrounds him. Blocking his view but not the sounds, the cries of 'please stop', 'shoot him,' and 'you killed him.'
"Turn that off now!" A voice commands, Bruce isn't sure who that was as he stands and shuffles Damian and Dick to the side. The screams stop but the crying of Jack remained. The angle is a bit different now, the view seems to be still now, no jostle caused by a soldier but from a view of a car.
Jack is covered in blood, a couple gun shot wound pepper his torso and left arm. His right leg is dragging slightly as he makes him way past the bodies of the soldiers to Daniel.
Bruce isn't watching the TV now but his son Jason, who is watching in fascination. "Your brother... he's been... there's a tire iron."
Daniel, who had been killed swiftly now free of soldiers holding him down, reveals a gruesome scene. A tire iron and a baseball bat lay by his side, his body shows clear signs of being beaten. Purple and dark blue bruises litter every vision peice of skin, his arms, collar bone and a small peak where his shirt has ridden up in his struggle. While yellowing ones mark his face.
Bruce watches Jason, Jason watches the start of a madman.
Jack slowly wraps his torso, crying over Daniel. Hicupping and coughing his way to staunch the bleeding. Once he finishes, he holds Daniel in his arms and just cries.
Bruce can tell Jason is getting agitated, his hand clenching and unclenching. His eyes wide and slight sway of stepping closer to the TV.
Jack is slowly puffing out cries and breaths of air. A mumble hear and there. His face is still bleeding. A noise seeps out of his mouth.
The laugh catches everyone off guard Bruce notes. Jason stops walking, Damian looks surprised, Alfred has tear coming down his face, Dick is looking up at the ceiling, Cass is now trying to drag him away, Duke stands still at the doorway and Steph refusing to look at anyone.
There is visually shock on Jack's face, as a small laugh pops up between his cries. The laughter erupts the same time as a siren can be heard in the distance. Jack's face is still switching between a Glasgow smile and heart rentching sadness.
No one moves and everybody watches.
Jack brings a hand to his bleeding face to cover his mouth and the laughs. Tears stream down, mixing with the blood. Jack jerks his hand to his uninjured side of his face to wipe a tear, creating and completing his famous smile in blood.
Bruce notes the date that flashes on the screen before its being thrown across the room by Jason. April 27. Next week. Jason's death date. Danny Death date.
—————
Danny dies but is reincarnated into the DP universe. Grows up and is an adult now but is getting visions of his old life, when he goes to Clockwork about it, he is told about his first life and how he died. Curious, he travels to this other world but doesn't interfere much since he is well, dead here. When trying to travel back to DP universe he gets stuck and now may have to get help while a movie about his death caused a supervillain is being released soon.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Notes: This is based on a fic I read. If I find it, I'll post it with this. Other than that, I'm working on an accelerated timeline.
Alfred is 74
Joker is 64(but looks younger because of chem)
Bruce is 46
Barbara is 30
Dick is 29
Jason is 25
Cass is 25
Steph is 24
Tim is 23
Duke is 18
Damian is 15-16
I like to think Joker is batman first real enemy, so he his older and his other rouges age from late 30s to early 50s, but some, once again, look younger due to mods/chem like harley, ivy, ivo etc.
Danny died at 21 but would be 60 but is now 38-39(the amount of years he's been dead in DC universe)
Update:
This is the fic it's based off
746 notes · View notes
angrygirlromero · 2 months
Text
OCEAN EYES
Summary: In which the son of the God of thieves, is head over heels in love with the daughter of the sea God.
Warnings: possible grammar mistakes.
Pairing: Luke x daughter of Poseidon x Little brother Percy
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Luke Catellan could remember much more than clearly the first time time he set eyes upon his precious Marella, the way all the campers ran to the Lake to watch the arrival of the God and Goddess of the sea, and in between them was a breathtaking little girl clinging on to her father and mother's hands.
Luke had never seen a goddess before but in that moment Amphitrite looked as if her heart had been torn from her chest, and Poseidon held a serious face. Luke observed from the sidelines next to Annabeth as Mr. D and Chiron went out on the deck to meet then, Chiron bowing his head in pure respect to the God of the sea.
All the campers observed the scene before them, the short exchange of words between Gods, Luke's eyes completely glued to the little girl who stood with pure elegance between her parents, a heartbroken look on her face, causing Luke's heart to pain at her displeasure.
Soon enough the Sea God passed a small bag of some sort to Chiron, as he let out a harsh sigh looking over to his wife who was on the verge of tears, he watched Poseidon fall to his knees before the little girl, stopping for a moment to touch her face before embracing the small girl in a hug, his wife cried next to him lowering herself as well pressing a kiss to her husband's bastard's face, she muttered soft words of reassurance to the girl before her husband gently began pulling her away
The entire camp watched as Mr. D offered the crying girl his hand allowing him to guid her to her Cabin, Luke watched as Poseidon and Amphitrite walked back into the lake, sad looks displayed on both of their Godly faces.
"Hey Luke, are you okay?" asked Percy Jackson his bright blue orbs looking up at him, the same eyes that would look up at him with such love and adoration any other day, as they had been heading towards lunch, "yeah, sorry about that buddy" said the Hermes boy before replacing his emotionless face with his usual bright smile.
"He's probably daydreaming about his precious Ocean Princess" said Chris with a teasing laugh, causing Luke to give him a death glare, "ocean Princess?" asked Percy, "Yeah, actually she's the reason he was late to training this morning" teased the Hermes boy.
Percy gave Luke a look of confusion causing him to sigh, "Marella, she's the daughter of the sea god" explained Luke to the young boy, "She's Poseidon's kid?" asked Percy, "I thought you said Zeus, Poseidon and Hades weren't allowed to have children."
"they aren't that's why they are called forbidden kids, Thalia was the first of them, but when Poseidon found out he felt threatened so he decided to get back at Zeus and he had a daughter as well who he made a gift to his wife" stated Chris, "So if she was gift to Amphitrite how did she end up here?" asked Percy trying to keep up with the older boys pace.
"Zeus found out and thought his brother's actions disrespectful, but when he found out the demigod was a little girl he didn't have the heart to kill her, so he demanded she be taken to camp, Amphitrite begged him not to take her away, but her sadness was more than enough punishment for Poseidon" explained Luke, stopping in his tracks a huge smile forming on his face.
Percy turned his head to look at what he was looking at, there in the water stood a girl, her hips swaying from side to side, her long curly hair passing her lower back swaying with her movements, her hands moving in graceful motions, her writs, ankles, waist and neck adorned with different types of shell bracelets and necklaces, the water around glowed and splashed along side her movements.
"Whoah" breathed out Percy, causing Chris to laugh as he watched Luke walk down to the edge on the lake, standing behind her, Percy observed the small fishes swimming around her following her movements and the soft humming passing her lips.
And soon enough the girl came to a halt slowly turning to see Luke standing there with a stupid grin on his face, Percy was quick to take notice to the way her glowing eyes soon came to a light blue shade, a spitting image of his own.
The new camper watched the girl graceful move her hand out towards the lake signaling for the fish to return to their activities, she smiled at Luke her beautiful dimples forming on both sides of her face causing Luke's heart to race, as she so gracefully made her way out of the water to where Luke stood.
Percy watched the girl raise her hand up to Luke's hight to softly sooth her thumb over Luke's scar, Percy couldn't believe his eyes as he watched his new found friend melt by just the touch of the pretty girl's fingers, she said something to Luke but Percy couldn't hear from his stance next to Chris.
He watched the short girl giggle at something his friend said before the older boy quickly ran over to where some navy blue flip-flops laid on the beach the pretty slippers also adorned with shells, he quickly placed them down for her to put on, before offering her his arm which she accepted with a smile before Luke guided her in their direction.
"He's so wiped" stated Percy, "I know" said Chris his eyes following the pair as they finally reached them, "Ella" greeted Chris doing a playful bow in respect of her, causing her to laugh, "always the jest Chris" she said her thick English accent rolling effortlessly off her tongue.
"Oh Princess, this is Percy Jackson the new camper I was telling you about, the one that killed the minotaur" explained Luke to Marella, "oh yes, the one the Ares kids have been speaking of, it is a true pleasure to finally meet you Percy" she said with a pretty smile.
“I- it’s a pleasure to meet you too, your highness?” Said Percy his mouth hanging open slightly at his lack of words, the girl simply giggled at the boys reaction, “please, just call me Ella these two are simply messing around about the princess thing” explained the girl, “well it’s nice to meet you too Ella”
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The next day after Percy's incident in the bathroom he had gotten up early before his other fellow campers and made his way out to the lake, walking out to the dock Percy soon took notice to the curly haired girl seated to the very end of it with her feet hanging off the very edge into the water.
"Hey" greeted Percy causing her to turn to face him, she beamed up at him, "Good Morning sleepyhead" she greeted patting the empty space next to her, turning back to watch the sun continue to rise.
Percy smiled quickly occupying the empty space, mumbling a small good morning under his breath, "Why are you up so early?" asked the girl swirly her feet in the water. Percy glanced down and his brows lifted in surprise as he was met with the sight of baby tadpoles following her motions in the water.
"I guess I couldn't sleep, um this girl last night, Annabeth she said I was gonna help her win today?" said the unsure boy scratching the back of his head in confusion.
Ella let out a little laugh at his words, "Oh that Annabeth always three paces ahead of everyone" sighed out the ocean beauty before leaning back bracing herself on her palms, "You know her?" asked Percy, "Everyone at camp knows Annabeth she's been here for ages along with Luke, she's led the blue team into victory three straight times" stated the older girl.
"So that's what she was talking about me being on their team?" asked Percy, "Most likely" she responded, "Are you on our team? I'm just guessing because you and Luke seem very close..." rambled the young boy.
Ella chuckled at his words, "No love, I'm not allowed to part take in such sport" she explained, "Because you're a forbidden kid?" "Not really, let's just say if I was allowed it wouldn't be much of a competition" Ella shrugged, "So I'm guessing because there is no other living forbidden children here to compete with me, Chiron asked me quite politely to not take part in it" she explained.
"Oh that makes sense" said Percy take a glance at the girl before turning back to the sunset fiddling with his fingers, "I um have a question and I really hope you don't mind me asking, but Chris told me you were raised by Poseidon and Amphitrite..." Ella took a deep breath before replying, "You wish to know how it happened?" she asked to which Percy quickly nodded.
"When my father found out of Thalia's being he thought her a threat, and felt betrayed by his brother so he decided if Zeus was calling another war, he would also have his warrior. I don't know much of my biological mother but from what my father has told me she adored the ocean and for her dedication and love to it Poseidon gifted her the opportunity to be my mother, and when the time came he took me to Atlantis and there Amphitrite took me and raised and loved me as her own, but when Zeus found out of my being, he found me a threat to his throne, he believed my father was plotting against him, so he banished me here to camp where I am not allowed to go past the border, I am forbidden to see my father but Zeus allows my mother to visit me at least once a year" spoke Ella as Percy listened intently.
"that's not fair, to have you ripped away from your family and home" stated Percy his brows now frowned in sadness, "It does not matter what is fair, the Gods do not care, either ways Zeus was smart to take me away from them, my father has been preparing me to win a war since I took my very first step, and my mother has taught me to rule, Zeus was smart with his actions, besides if I wasn't banished I wouldn't have met any of you guys" smiled the girl which Percy hesitated before returning.
"Come on now little one we must get you breakfast, after all you have have long day ahead of you” said Ella lifting her hand to rub Percy's hair causing him to laugh, maybe he could find his place here after all.
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Ella resigned in her cabin alone as always, a book in hand as she laid on her bed waiting patiently for Luke to come seek her out and tell her all about his win, how she adored to listen to the charming Hermes boy ramble to her about anything and everything, just having the opportunity to look at his handsome face and listen to his attractive voice was more than enough to satisfy her.
Hearing the sound of her cabin door opening she placed her her book down to the side sitting up to face the intruder, "Ella, Chiron is looking for you" spoke Annabeth from the doorway a strange look on her face, "Why, what's the matter Beth?" asked Ella.
"It's Percy he's been claimed" stated Annabeth taking short steps forward, Ella smiled to the Athena girl "That's marvelous news, but what's the matter then Beth?" asked the daughter of Poseidon to the pride of Athena "Ella... he's been claimed by Poseidon, Percy is your brother."
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Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃
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I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.
Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.
A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀
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Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.
When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.
He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.
“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”
“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.
Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.
“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”
“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.
“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.
“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”
You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.
“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”
“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.
“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.
“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”
You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.
“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”
“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”
You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.
“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.
“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.
“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”
That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.
You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.
“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.
He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.
Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.
“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”
“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”
You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.
You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.
“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”
He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.
“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.
“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”
You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.
“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”
You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.
“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”
“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”
Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”
“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”
“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.
“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn’t help with all this.”
You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.
“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”
“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”
You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.
“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”
“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.
“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”
You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.
“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”
“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.
“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”
He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.
“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”
You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.
“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”
“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.
“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”
“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.
“Not at all.”
You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.
“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.
“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”
“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”
“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”
“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.
“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”
You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.
“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.
“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”
You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”
The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.
He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.
After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.
You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.
You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.
“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”
“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.
After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.
It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.
“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”
Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.
“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”
“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”
“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”
“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”
“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”
You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.
“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.
You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”
You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.
His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.
You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.
“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”
“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”
You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”
“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”
“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”
“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”
“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”
“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”
“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”
You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.
“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.
You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.
“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.
“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.
You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.
“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.
“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”
“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”
“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.
“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.
“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”
You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.
“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.
“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”
You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.
“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”
“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.
The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.
“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.
You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.
“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.
“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”
“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.
You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.
“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”
“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”
You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.
“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”
You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.
“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.
“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.
“Thanks, dude.”
Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.
He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.
“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.
His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.
“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.
His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.
He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.
“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”
He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”
“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”
“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.
“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”
“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.
He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.
“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.
You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.
“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.
“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.
He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.
He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.
“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”
“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.
You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.
“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”
You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”
“You have no fucking idea.”
You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.
317 notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Clark Gable (Gone With the Wind, It Happened One Night)—There's no proof that Clark Gable stripping in It Happened One Night caused the sale of undershirts to take a nosedive, but there's also no proof that it didn't do that. And either way, him saucily undressing for bed in front of a woman who was married—not to him—is too deliciously scandalous to ignore. He deserves votes for this scene if nothing else. He got an Academy Award for this movie! He could play comedy just as well as drama, he earned medals for his bravery as a bomber gunner in WW2, he competed in car races, he has a great mustache and perfect eyebrows for sexy smirking, he's just HOT.
Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.
This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]
Clark Gable propaganda:
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"Listen, he was "the King of Hollywood" for a reason and a suave motherfucker. Also a Major in the air force during WWII!"
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"So Clark Gable was the king of Hollywood for a reason but honestly what makes him hot to me is his relationship with his wife Carole Lombard like if she loved him so she can't be wrong. Their relationship is so tragic like they met first when they filmed No Man of Her Own in 1932 and like there was nothing between them then but in 1936 they met again at a Hollywood party and this time things were different. Basically from that moment on they were inseparable and had to carry out their romance in secret until his divorce was finalized (he was separated when they met again at the party) and then they eloped in 1939 when he had a break during filming Gone With The Wind. They had a 20 acre farm together with horses, cows and chickens and they loved to do all those outdoorsy activities together. When they were apart for various work obligations they would send each other goofy gag gifts. In 1942 Carole was on a trip to sell war defense bonds when on the flight back home her plane crashed in the mountains of Nevada. Her death devastated Gable he flew to Nevada and demanded he be taken to the spot where the plane crashed despite the dangers posed by its location. Amongst the wreckage they found a hair clip he had given her for Christmas. Her death forever changed him he became more reckless and signed up for the US Army Air Corps in 1942 and he kept her bedroom unchanged in their home. He never stopped loving her when he died in 1960 he was buried next to her. I know Clark wasn't a perfect person and their is some speculation that she was racing home on that plane to him because she was worried that he was having an affair or something but relationships are complicated especially ones occurring in 1930s and 1940e Hollywood amongst two of the biggest starts at the time. (I just wanted to include this so ya know I'm not just looking at their relationship as all sunshine but like you can't deny the love they shared)
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"They had an ineffable quality in romance, the ability to have fun together... they were soulmates who thought life was delicious, and they made everyone's life delicious around them" -Esther Williams
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"GWtW is an epic stretching across years so Clark has a chance to show off a whole bunch of different sides, from Hot Outsider to Husband to Father and so on. But his most attractive is his final line of the movie, made only better by the story that he lobbied the Film Industry to ‘Let Rhett Curse!’ And who is more classic 30s Hollywood than this man?"
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"Also apparently his name was Billy Gable then Glark Gable before finally landing on Clark Gable. A fact that I cant forget now glark gable lives in my mind now"
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Sidney Poitier propaganda:
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457 notes · View notes
quack-quack-snacks · 3 months
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Drowning Without You By My Side
My Navigation and Masterlist
My Sweet Home Masterlist
My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist
Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Ever since losing everything, you felt like you were drowning. Trying to end it all wasn't successful when an unknown and unnatural force was hell-bent on stopping you, but when a near-death experience - unintended this time - causes you to tempt Death's grasp, you finally meet the force keeping you bound to the world. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers (slightly)! Slight panic attack, drowning, explicit detail of attempted suicide on the reader's part (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), cutting and bleeding (during the roll calls), Ah-yi being too cute for her own good, and Hyun-su being a fond little cinnamon roll and a great big brother (even if it's only for a scene), no use of (y/n). Word Count: 6,163
Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)
Hyun-su!
You woke up with a start, sweat slickening your skin and causing the slightly ripped t-shirt to stick to your back. It was designed with a band of which you'd never heard the likes of before the apocalypse started. Your breathing was quickened intensely and you wiped your hands over your face, pushing your palms into your eye sockets as you fruitlessly tried to calm your heart rate. It took several minutes of doing every method you knew to stop a panic attack before you were finally able to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs. You swung your legs over the edge of the hammock you had designated as your bed since you first arrived at the stadium all those months ago. To know that you hadn’t seen the boy you once called home in over half a year was a hard pill to swallow. You hated yourself for letting him go.
Hated that you didn’t try harder to follow after him.
Hated that you let the group force you onto the truck with them and head to the safety camp.
It was a never-ending cycle of self-loathing since you’d arrived at the stadium. When you’d found the secret exit leading out of the stuffy concrete walls you were trapped in, you found yourself leaving whenever possible. You couldn't handle the pitiful stares of your fellow Green Home survivors and the eyes of the citizens in the stadium who disliked the woman that protected the “murderer” of the chief’s husband. Although Eun-yoo and you did not really have any sort of relationship in terms of friendship, you had an unspoken agreement to protect and stand up for each other. If not each other, you had no one. The people you each had viewed as the closest to you of anyone had gone missing or even passed on to the next life. You both refused to admit that last thought out loud, though. 
Every morning, you would wake up and attend the morning roll call before getting dressed and leaving for the day until you returned just in time for the evening roll call.
Today would be no different.
You dropped your bare feet onto the frigid concrete floor and walked towards the bathroom, suppressing a shiver. The entrance to the bathroom had been taken off after an incident inside of the stadium. It involved none other than yourself and the elder brother of one of the boys who bullied Yeong-su when the two of you got into a fight. You can remember the exact words he had spoken to you after you talked to him about the boy’s behavior.
“The little shit deserves it. Being the little brother of a murderer and the devil’s advocate,” he’d said, referring to Eun-yu and yourself. “I hope he ends up becoming a monster. I even hope I’ll be the one to have the honor of killing him.”
You remember punching him square in the nose as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d flown backward and slammed into the bathroom door, successfully knocking it off the hinges and breaking the flimsy wood in half. You were positively seething at the absolute audacity the man had. Not being satisfied with how he’d fallen, you jumped on top of him and started pounding your fist into his face. You hit him over and over again, undeterred by the few hits he managed to get in, until you were pulled off of him. You started thrashing around violently when you felt hands wrapping around you to pull you off of him until you realized it was Park Chan-young, the young soldier who had been an alibi and friend to you and the rest of the Green Home survivors since you’d first gotten on that truck. A small crowd had gathered around after hearing the commotion and yells coming from the two of you before they all parted to allow Chief Ji in. When she saw you, her confused stare deepened to a glare but she ignored you in favor of transporting the brother you had just fought to the medical room. That was a hell of a day.
The inside of the bathroom was a regular locker room. Not surprising considering it was originally used for the players of the baseball team. The only difference was one of the walls was poorly rebuilt with rocks and bricks by Chief Ji and some of the stadium's residents after it was impacted by the missiles. 
Before you had started heading over to the bathroom, you had grabbed your small compact bag of hygiene supplies and brought it with you. Although toothpaste was hard to come by and you had to share the rations the soldiers found with your neighbors, you were able to find some on one of your days out. You brushed your teeth dry, not wanting to use any of the limited water on something like brushing your teeth. This had become something you were used to. 
Finally returning to your sleeping space, you didn’t bother changing out of the clothes you slept in and just decided to continue wearing them. The outfit was comfortable yet simple: a pair of oversized off-white sweatpants you had to manually make a drawstring for using a shoestring, and a short-sleeved dark blue shirt. Your shoes were the same ones you wore the first day this monsterization started. They were originally a pristine white you had tried your hardest not to taint, but now they were stained beyond repair from your adventures. You consider yourself lucky you had only bought them a week before the outbreak. They held up well throughout the year you’d spent with them as your sole pair of shoes. 
The morning announcement calling for roll call sounded through the silent air of the little enclosed unit you were lucky enough to be given.
Although luck may not have been the true cause. So many people were reluctant to be near you when they slept and complained enough times to the chief that she eventually just set you apart from the rest. Although it was lonely at times, you were thankful for the shred of privacy you had been granted. 
Once your shoes had been put on along with your sweater, you calmly walked down the hall toward the place where your assigned group met for roll calls. You arrived just in time to see Yeong-su slap away Jin-ok’s hand when she tried to pull him back from a soldier who was grinning meanly at him. You could see the built-up tears in the boy’s eyes that he desperately was trying to push away and rushed forward. Seeing the reasoning behind his tears, despite the consequences that you knew would ensue, you roughly pushed against the soldier’s back which sent him tumbling forward and his face met the ground floor with a sickening sound. You risked a glance to look back at Yeong-su and Jin-ok. Yeong-su’s arm was bleeding rapidly, seeming obvious that the soldier who cut him too deeply hit an artery. Hopefully, it wasn't a major one. The boy’s lip was quivering as he held back his tears. You could see all the emotions in his eyes: anger, frustration, helplessness, but mainly relief. Relief from you coming in to defend him. You quickly sent a look to Jin-ok and she immediately knew what you meant. She gently took Yeong-su’s hand and this time he didn’t resist as she led them both away from the scene and to their living quarters. 
You barely had time to let out a relieved smile before a fist was sent flying into your left cheek, sending your head snapping to the right and you falling back, only barely and painfully catching yourself with your elbows. You looked up at your assailant to see the officer who was tormenting Yeong-su standing above you. His nose was bleeding heavily and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was beginning the transition period to a monster. He wiped at his nose to no avail and sent you a heavy glare. He leaned down and roughly grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet and pulling out his knife. You held eye contact even when the blade roughly slashed across your forearm, right over an already existing cut. You praised yourself internally on how you kept your face entirely neutral and how the soldier looked angry and disappointed at your lack of reaction.
You gave him a slight smirk as you held up your bleeding arm for his view, the blood gushing down and covering your bruised elbow. “Happy?” You questioned tauntingly and your smirk grew as you saw the man seething. Despite his intimidating height, you couldn’t help but think he looked like a cartoon character with the way you were sure steam would be bursting out of his ears at any second. When he made no further move to continue the fight, you swiftly turned around and walked out of the room, smiling when you heard him yell in frustration and throw something to the floor. The knife, you presumed. 
You didn’t bother visiting the doctor to help you treat your wounds as you wrapped a strap of clothing around it and called it a day. Any respect you had for him instantly flew down the drain when you caught him drinking the rubbing alcohol meant for treating wounds and acting immaturely all the time. You walked in the direction of the exit, making sure to not be spotted by any soldiers as you did. When you finally got there and pushed the door open, you let out a breath of relief. The moment you stepped out the door and into the clean air of the outdoors, you felt yourself relax a little more than before. You found it odd how you felt more relaxed outside of the safe haven the stadium provided but you couldn’t help yourself. In the outdoors, you felt free. You could think without hindrance and allow yourself to feel an emotion that wasn't complete and utter despair.
The ground crunched below your feet as you walked across the gravel towards the green grass fields. You had no objective or destination in mind for today, you just wanted to escape the oppressive hands of your 'superiors.'
Walking on light feet, still making sure to keep your head focused on the area around you in case a monster appeared, you found yourself standing in front of a building. There was nothing special about this building. Half of it wasn't even attached as it lay broken in shambles around the structure. The ladder leading to the roof was rusted and had some of the metal bars sticking out awkwardly. The building in total was relatively normal and in good shape compared to those around it.
The only special thing about this building was the memories that it spurred within your head. 
You climbed up the ladder, tears blocking your vision as they collected on your waterline despite your deepest efforts. You lost everyone. You lost Hyun-su; the boy you called home; the boy you called your soulmate; the boy you loved more than anyone or anything else. You lost Ji-su, the girl you decided you could call your best friend after spending so much time with her on the first floor of Green Home for those days at the beginning of this mess. You even lost Su-yeong, the little girl you’d grown so protective over… gone without a second thought. You never truly had Eun-yu so it wouldn’t hurt as much whether or not she had died. The only person you truly felt you had left was Yeong-su. You hated yourself for doing this to him but only having him wasn’t enough to stay anymore. 
You felt like you were drowning. You were unable to handle the constant feeling of your emotions overpowering you. You’d heard so many times that it got easier as time went on but you never thought you would be able to overcome this. Although it might have been fitting to end your life by drowning, you just wanted a quick and painless death.
Falling solved that for you. 
When you finally climbed the ladder to the roof of the building, you couldn’t help the sobs that wracked your body. You hopped up onto the edge of the building and looked up. The sky seemed to perfectly oppose how you were feeling. Soft, puffy white clouds were fluttering through the atmosphere and forming different shapes you could just barely make out. The tears slipped down the side of your face as you tried to gain some sort of peace before you followed through with your decision. 
The wind was a gentle, cool breeze across your damp cheeks as you stood and glanced across the beautiful terrain below you. The grass had just barely begun to grow out of its perfect and well-maintained state, but it was still a wonderful sight to see. There were flower gardens surrounding the tall building, some crushed brutally by the falling of the walls but most were left perfectly untouched and thriving in the new world. The sight made your body calm down, the tears cascading waterfalls of sorrow down your cheeks slowly coming to a stop. You’ve heard of the acceptance of death people have when they know they’re about to die. You’d never thought you would have to face that kind of acceptance, never really thought the way you’d die would be because the world had been cruel and gave you too much pain for you to handle. You never thought that yet there you were.
There you were, standing on the edge of the tallest building you could find, one foot raised and hovering over the edge and you giving one last smile to the world before having your other foot join it. 
The wind screamed in your ears and you swear you could hear voices within it. Voices calling your name. Voices that sounded too similar to one you’d lost. You let your eyes fall shut as memories flashed through your mind. Memories of reading to Su-yeong and Yeong-su; memories of playing the guitar and singing with Ji-su, laughter interrupting each word because you couldn’t take yourselves seriously; memories of Hyun-su. 
Memories of shaking his hand when you first met him after he moved in across the hall from you in Green Home. 
Memories of him coming to you crying for the first time and confessing how he couldn’t stand being alive anymore.
Memories of losing yourself in his eyes when he smiled at you.
Memories of his touch against your cheeks when he leaned in to leave a kiss against your forehead.
Memories of him.
A single tear drop fell from your eye and you smiled at the thought of meeting him again, whether that be in your next life or the one that comes after death. There was no doubt in your mind that he was gone, and that thought alone was more than half of your reasons for wanting to end it all. 
Just as you were sure you were about to hit the bottom, a strong yet lean arm wrapped around your body and gently set you down on the ground before retreating just as quickly as it had appeared. You shot your eyes open only to be left with the blue sky above you and the intense wind that breezed over your body as whatever it was that saved you disappeared. For a few moments, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except stare in perplexment at the sky. As you sat up, you still couldn’t think straight and allowed your body to work on autopilot as it walked you home. 
It took a full week until you were finally able to come to terms with the fact that either you had imagined the whole thing or something - someone - had saved you.
A month after your first attempt, you tried again. You couldn’t handle the stares of disdain and hatred towards you after you had defended Eun-yu as others criticized her about her apparent murder of Chief Ji’s husband. Yet, just like the last time, you were saved miraculously last minute by that same strange force. 
You tried a dozen more times, all ending with the same result. It was so frustrating and you could barely handle the pain knowing you couldn’t even control your death, let alone your life.
The tears streamed down your face violently as you knelt and smacked your fists angrily against the wet, coarse dirt of where you were, once again, gently placed down after another failed attempt to end your life. The shredded noose hung limp around your neck and you ripped it off aggressively. You let out an agonizing scream from the deepest part of your lungs and it ended with more sobs as you let yourself fall onto your side with your knees pulled into your chest. Your loud sobs slowly quieted down but the tears never stopped falling. You stood up from the wet ground, your hair and clothes both stained by the mud below. Water rained down from the heavens, soaking your shirt and making it cling to your chest. Your tears blurred with the raindrops that splashed against you and slowly made their way down your face, disappearing down your neck and into the collar of your shirt. 
“Why are you doing this?” You yelled into the open air, receiving no answer. “Why? Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you just let me die?” You choked on a sob at that last question and yet you still received no answer. Defeated, you decided to retreat back to the stadium and get cleaned up. When you returned, Jin-ok was the first to notice the bruising around your neck and your tired, puffy eyes. When she asked, you played dumb but you could tell she saw right through you. Luckily, she left it alone. 
You ended up curled up in your hammock for hours as you sobbed your heart out. 
Although the stadium might have been a better place to follow through with your plan, you refused to put your few remaining friends - if you could even really call them that - through that. Put them through the pain of seeing your dead body and knowing they might have been able to stop it. Even though you would be dead by then, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. The only way you would allow yourself to follow through was outside of the stadium.
But a certain someone, or something, wouldn’t allow that to happen. 
That was the last time you tried to end your life.
You’d had many dangerous encounters since then but every time they would be cleared out by your guardian angel before you could even really call them a threat. It got to the point where you felt more safe outside the stadium compared to within its concrete walls.
Sighing, you averted your eyes from the building and walked around it, focusing instead on the plants that were just starting to bloom in the early spring. The breeze was a welcome chill that rose goosebumps along your arms. As you continued to walk, your mind blank and your feet destinationless as you wandered, you came across a large pool of water.
And a girl.
She was young, and couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. It was such a shock to see her there, especially all by herself, that you didn’t realize she was sinking until it was almost too late. Without a second of hesitation, you jumped right into the lake and swam as fast as you could towards her. Grabbing a hold of her hand, you pulled her along as you swam back up to the surface. You dragged her towards the edge of the earth where the stable ground met the water and laid her down. Lowering your head to her mouth, you tried to listen to her breathing but instead, you got a headbutt to the ear. She shot up and started coughing up water. You ignored how your ear stung at that moment and instead rubbed along her back while she breathed heavily. 
“Are you okay?” You asked her and she suddenly snapped her head towards you, like she didn’t recognize your presence until you spoke.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she hesitated before quietly asking, “Did you save me?”
You smiled at her shy mannerisms as she played with the hem of her wet and dirtied dress. “Yeah, I did.”
She looked up at you, almost surprised with your confession, and gave you a shy smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered before averting her eyes again.
You couldn’t stop the smile growing even brighter on your face at her adorableness. You looked around, seeing nobody else in sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you began to worry about who she was and why nobody was taking care of her. “Are you alo-”
Just as you started to speak, a wet and slimy tentacle-like appendage wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you back into the lake. You thrashed around but couldn’t unravel yourself from the monster’s grip. You saw your knife float away and sink further down the dark abyss that was the bottom of the lake. With it, the last of your newfound hope to live followed. Just as you lost the last of the reserved air in your lungs, a sudden figure dove into the water and wrapped its arm around you. Just before your eyes fluttered shut, you swore you saw the blurry face of the same boy who haunted your dreams. The boy who haunted your nightmares.
The same boy who haunted your mind as you stuttered between the line separating life and death after surrendering to the lack of oxygen. 
“Hyun-su!”
You screamed as you saw the military take him away. You lay helplessly against the side of the crumbling Green Home building as the pain of moving around too much from your wounds caused you to be dead-weight in your spot. 
He let out a scream of agony that ended with your name and you felt your heart shatter. He was surrounded by multiple people; doctors, scientists, and soldiers alike. Each person’s face was surrounded by a strange darkness. The only thing you could make out of their faces were their evil, wide smiles, and their eyes tainted a demonic red. The sight made you feel even more helpless and despair-ridden than before.
You could do nothing but watch as the love of your life was taken from you without a second thought. 
Hyun-su gathered you in his human-form arm while the other, extended in his monstrous form, swung back and forth through the water to slice at the monstrous being that dared to harm you. He didn’t waste much more time under the water to fight the beast as he noticed your eyes had slipped shut and you weren’t releasing any more air bubbles. He surged upwards, his wing doing most of the work as he darted through the surface of the water and onto the solid ground near the same little girl you had saved before.
Lying you down on the ground gently, he lowered his head to your mouth to hear if you were breathing, cursing quietly when he realized you weren’t. It was at times like these that he thanked whatever deity existed that he allowed himself to be persuaded by his parents to be a lifeguard for a summer. That way, he learned and was certified in CPR. 
Plugging your nose, he administered two breaths into your mouth before pressing his - now both fully human - hands to your chest. Just as he prepared for the first chest compression, you suddenly started coughing and turned onto your side as you continued to cough up the water from your lungs. He was so thankful there wasn’t enough water in your lungs that he would’ve had to break your ribs giving you CPR. 
But he would choose broken ribs over a body that wasn’t breathing any day.
After coughing your lungs dry, you fell onto your back with your eyes closed as you took many deep breaths. Suddenly, you remembered the face you clearly remember saving you and shot up into a sitting position, your eyes wide and surprised. Your gaze immediately fell upon him.
Hyun-su.
You held your breath as your eyes met and you stared at each other for a few moments. Your hand hesitantly raised to reach out for him. His gaze didn’t stray from your own as you brought your hand to his face, a mix between a sigh and a sob leaving your throat as you felt the soft skin of his cheek touch your fingertips. He was wet and cold, but he was alive. A smile grew onto your face but it dropped just as Hyun-su’s began to form. You yanked your hand away as if his skin suddenly burned you, and it might as well have. You could see the hurt expression taking over his face but the feeling of the anger, betrayal, and grief flooding through your veins overpowered any feelings of remorse you might have felt. Taking a quick moment to look around for the child you saved, you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw her innocently watching the interaction between you and Hyun-su, breathing normally and sitting safe and sound on the grass.
“Take care of her for me, will you?” You asked him coldly, not waiting for an answer as you stood up and started speed walking in the opposite direction. 
“No, wa- wait!” He scrambled to stand up, calling after you as you ignored his advances. “Stop!” He finally caught up to you and wrapped his hand around your bicep gently, turning you around to face him. 
“What? What the fuck is so important that you finally feel the need to talk to me?” You let out a sob of a laugh as you ripped your arm away from him. You could slowly see the realization of why you were acting so angry and upset dawn on his face as guilt settled into his eyes. “You’ve gone this entire time being just fine as you save my life just to leave me there, alone, time and time again. So please - please - explain to me what is now so important you feel the need to reveal yourself to me.”
You looked at him expectantly as his mouth opened and closed, looking for an answer. He seemed to find it as he finally said, “I just… I really thought you died this time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You looked at him, frustrated, for a moment before harshly scrubbing your palms over your eyes which were tearing up against your will. “So… what, after all the times you saved me, now you want to check on my safety?” Taking a deep breath, you forced your face to look calm, masking your anger for his sake so you could get out of this situation with as little hindrance as possible. You dropped your hands to your sides, your tears smeared across your face leaving it in a shiny glow. “Well thank you, Hyun-su, for your consideration,” you spoke the last word with bitterness lacing your tone that you could tell he caught as he winced softly. “But I am fine.”
You turned around, fully intent on heading back to the stadium when his hand wrapped around your bicep again. “What?” You asked angrily and turned around only to be pulled into a tight hug. You didn’t waste time in fighting his grip but he was relentless. “Let me go!” You screamed at him, although it was muffled by his shirt. “You’re such an asshole! I fucking mourned for you! I built a fucking memorial and brought a flower every single week without fail and yet you were never fucking dead! Why did you keep letting me think you were dead?” You were now pounding your fists into his chest, no longer resisting his embrace but expressing the built-up anger, sadness, grief, and self-loathing you felt every single day. It all stemmed solely from the way you hated yourself for not trying harder to save him. Not trying harder to resist Eun-hyuk when he told you and Eun-yu he would bring him back. “Was it you? Was it you every time I was stopped? Every time I was in danger, it was you who saved me, wasn’t it? What gave you the fucking right?” The crying started again. In turn, your hits became less and less powerful with each strike along with your screams gradually quieting. “Why did you have to leave me?” You sobbed out and let your head fall onto his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Your hands clutched onto his t-shirt as if trying to anchor him to you, scared that if you let him go, he would disappear again. Your knees gave out, exhausted by the emotional turmoil washing over you from the last five minutes. And so soon after death caressed you on the cheek too. Hyun-su caught you and slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, never once breaking the embrace. 
You sat in silence, only broken by the sound of your sobs as they slowly subsided. When you settled down, you spoke once more. 
“Did you know I was in love with you?” You didn’t feel any physical reaction from him that would express what he was feeling in that moment so you continued. “I never stopped. Loving you, I mean. I don’t think I ever will, but god, I hate you so much right now.”
There were a few silent beats where the only sound you could hear was the sound of his heartbeat against your ear until he spoke. 
“I didn’t think I would be able to handle seeing you again and find you with this exact reaction. By the time I left the military’s grasp, I tried to find you but then I saw you on that ledge.”
It surprised you and calmed your nerves all the same. 
“I knew I was just being a coward but I thought too much time had passed for me to just show up. Today was just a bit different.” He leaned back a bit to look at you and you did the same. He gave a small smile when he saw you again, with your wet eyes and glistening cheeks you looked wonderful. Even after sobbing your heart out, you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “My love, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I never stopped either,” he leaned in slowly so your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed. “And if you need time to stop hating me, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
You looked into his radiating brown eyes as the last tear slipped from your own before bringing a hand up to cup his cheek once again. You let out a small laugh which he returned with an adoring smile. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his in a soft, unhurried kiss. He slid a hand up from where it was pulling you into his embrace to rest against the back of your neck as he held you against him. When the both of you were smiling too much to continue the kiss, you leaned back just enough to stare into each other’s eyes. The adoration and love you had for each other would be clear for anyone to see from the way you gazed at each other.
You suddenly pushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and hugging him once more. He sat still for a moment as he processed what you did only to wrap his arms around your waist. He hugged you just as tight and with just as much desperation as you did.
“God, I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear and he sighed shakily into the spot where his face was buried in your neck. 
“I missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry for not coming back sooner.”
“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” you reassured him and he physically relaxed, his shoulders untensing and him falling further into your embrace.��
The sound of the soft pattering of footsteps interrupted the moment you two were sharing. However, it was entirely welcome when you saw the little girl you had saved before standing beside you. You pulled away from Hyun-su, but not too far as he grabbed onto one of your hands. You smiled at him slightly, he was obviously just as starved of your touch as you were his.
“Hi there,” you told her gently when you turned back to her, not wanting to scare her in any way. “What’s your name?”
She looked down shyly, not answering until Hyun-su reached out to her with his hand. “It’s okay, she’s a good one,” he reassured her as he brushed some stray wet strands of her pin-straight black hair out of her face when her small hands were unable to. He took her hand and gently pulled her closer to the two of you. It made you smile as you saw them interact. The caring and soft way Hyun-su acted with her reminded you so much of a father interacting with his daughter.
It just made you love him even more.
He gave her one more nod of reassurance before she timidly introduced herself.
“M-my name is Ah-yi,” she stuttered out and you silently cooed at her adorable little shy smile. “Thank you for saving me, Miss.”
“Of course, Ah-yi, you are very welcome,” you gave her your own smile and some of her shyness seemed to fade away. You then gave her your name and she visibly brightened up. 
“You’re the princess!” You gave her a confused smile with a small laugh as she then began to explain. “Oppa’s told me stories about you! How you’re the princess of the big green castle and how he was a knight in shining armor who was saved by you, the warrior princess!” She talked animatedly with her hands swinging around wildly and her chest puffing out at the end to make her seem stronger. Your lips formed a big smile as you looked over at Hyun-su to see him lightly glaring at Ah-yi with a big blush coating his cheeks. 
“Ah, so you’ve told stories about me, have you?” You teased him and he looked at you before rolling his eyes. 
“Shut up,” he mumbled and you yelped as he yanked on your hand, sending you falling onto his chest with a loud laugh. 
You talked a bit more with Ah-yi, somehow ending with her laying her head in your lap as you leaned against Hyun-su with your back to his chest. The three of you watched the clouds, pointing out any shapes you could find and making up stories that Ah-yi seemed to love. Every time you looked over at Hyun-su, you could see all of his attention focused on you and how you interacted with the small child. 
Time seemed to fly as eventually, the sun started to fade into the distance, only leaving splotches of light shining through the leaves of the tall trees surrounding you. All three of you stood up and you glanced in the direction of the stadium with sad eyes. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Hyun-su yet. Even the thought of leaving the small girl you had grown strongly attached to in the past few hours broke your heart. Hyun-su seemed to sense your hesitation as he grabbed your hand. 
You looked back at him and he looked at you so fondly you felt like your heart might burst. With his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Stay. Stay with me. With us. You don’t have to go yet.”
He seemed just as desperate to make up for lost time with you as you were with him. His eyes widened and that smile you loved so dearly formed on his face when you nodded with little thought put into the decision. Pulling you closer with his arm circling your shoulders and one of yours circling his waist while the other hand reached out for Ah-yi to grab. She practically leaped at the opportunity.
“You ready, princess?” Hyun-su asked you in a soft teasing voice and you looked up at him with the same passionate smile gracing your lips. 
“Lead the way, my shining knight.”
~~~
Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)
488 notes · View notes
redstarwriting · 10 months
Text
the clash | viii. love you to death
hobie brown x goth!reader
Tumblr media
word count: 4.2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, venom hating hobie, anxious and sad hobie, panic attacks, fight scene, injuries, lots of injuries, angst with fluff and then some more angst and then fluff again, mentions of blood, broken bones
a/n: y’all.... this one was so fun HAHA i’ve been seeing scenes from this part play out in my head ever since i thought of the plot so it was so so SO fun putting it into actual words. we’re getting closer to the end now, and i am so grateful for everyone who decided they wanted to read this lil story i thought up 🖤 i hope you enjoy!
previous chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated
now reading: viii. love you to death
next chapter: ix. last caress
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“Uh, Hobie… the hell is happening right now,” Miles asks, but Hobie stays silent. He’s trying so hard not to freak out. It’s taking everything in him to not give in to his emotions. He clenches his fists. “Let ‘em go,” he demands, and Venom laughs. “I don’t think so. I like this body more than I expected to. Looks like we’re in the same boat there, aren’t we?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, an all too familiar anger stirring in him. “Awww, are you going to kill me like you did yourself?” Venom giggles, and he glares at it. “Just fuckin’ might, mate,” he says through gritted teeth, and Gwen pipes up. “What? Hobie, what are they talking about?”
“Piss off, Gwen. That’s not them,” he snaps, and she frowns underneath her mask. “We’re here to help you Hobie,” she says, and he clenches his jaw. “I don’t need no help.”
“On the contrary, I think you need all the help you can get. You mess up everything when you don’t have it, no?” Venom says, amused. Hobie knows it’s just trying to antagonize him. He knows that. But he can’t help but get angry. It’s using your body.
But he also knows that he does need help. He just can’t say his plan in front of this freakshow. “Go back to Spider Society, Gwen,” he touches his guitar, “tell Miguel I got it under control. Just gonna amp up this space slime a bit.” He hopes that was a clear indication of what he needs Gwen to do.
“Are you sure?” she asks slowly, and he smirks. She got it. “Positive.” With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pav disappear. If Hobie gets as many amps as possible, he can repeat what he did with Osborn and save you. Of course, the act of destroying this Venom might require more than just noise and be a little harder, but he’s willing to do anything to save you.
Anything.
Venom laughs. “That was a dumb move, what you just did,” it says, and he shrugs. “Yeah well, I’m full of those lately,” he responds, trying to think of his next move. He doesn’t want to destroy your flat, but he doesn’t want to cause too much damage to the city as a whole. “Are you going to do something, or do you prefer I kill you just standing there?” Venom asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Kill me? You’re a cheeky alien, you are,” he says, and he leaps off of the balcony. Venom follows him. He begins webbing through the city, expertly. Honestly, it’s a good thing he’s been here to see you so many times. But Venom keeps up with him, occasionally shooting out some symbiote webs at him. Luckily, he’s able to see it and dodge them with no problem.
He sees a giant arena and decides that’s a good place to fight Venom. Especially as it was all dark and he saw a sign talking about a celebration there for tomorrow, which means everything was most likely set up already and he didn’t have to worry about anyone being there since the event wasn’t until tomorrow.
He webs into it, landing in the nose bleeds and disappearing into the shadows. He hears Venom land where he was with a chuckle. “You can’t outrun me, Spider-Punk,” it says, and Hobie quietly webs down a few levels and ducks into a closed clothing store in the arena. He calls Gwen, who picks up almost immediately. “Shh,” Hobie says before she can say anything. “Bring the amps to the Mortician Square Garden Arena, line ‘em across the top, I’ll keep Venom distracted til you finish,” he whispers, and Gwen nods. “And one more thing. Get as much as you can out of (Y/n)’s flat, okay? Get Shadow out, take him to Miguel, and all the vinyls, their aunt’s skull, as much as you can,” he whispers, and she gives him a confused look. “Why?” she asks, and he sighs. “Their world isn’t gonna make it,” he says, and Gwen’s eyes widen. She mumbles a quick ‘got it,’ before hanging up.
He sits in the silence, confused as to why he doesn’t feel any presence. Suddenly, an inky tendril shoots out at him, and grabs him, pinning his arms to his sides. He mutters expletives, trying to get out of Venom’s grasp, but to no avail. He comes face to face with the grinning monster. “Found you.”
“Fuck you, mate,” he grunts, and thrashes around. “I thought you would be more difficult to catch. Looks like I was wrong,” it says and Hobie rolls his eyes. “Woulda been harder, bu–”
“But your little sense trick doesn’t work on me. That’s how I caught (Y/n), too,” says Venom as they pull Hobie’s mask off. Hobie glares at them and tries to get out of its grip again. “They’re right… you are handsome,” Venom says, and he delivers a successful kick to the symbiote. “Get out of their head,” he growls, and it giggles. “That tickled.”
Venom throws him across the room with force. He flies through a wall and groans as he stands up. Venom shoots out a tendril to catch him again, but he successfully dodges it. “If only you could hear their pleas for me to leave you alone,” Venom says, and it makes Hobie angrier. “I said get out of their head!” He yells, throwing a giant chunk of concrete at Venom only to have it shatter when it comes into contact with it. It only slightly falters, but that enough time for Hobie to quickly web away. He just needs to keep Venom preoccupied while Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr set up the first part of the plan.
He hears Venom following him, taunting him, and consistently trying to grab at him. As long as he keeps Venom from seeing outside, everything should go off just fine. He just hopes Miles, Gwen, and Pav can let him know when to go outside with Venom close behind. Ah well. Improvising is what spiders do best, anyways. Hobie is swinging past a food booth when Venom hits him into it. He winces as he crashes through the wall separating the front from the kitchen and straight into the knobs on the giant grill. Of course, it turns the electric grill on, but that’s the least of Hobie’s worries as Venom then uses one of its “webs” to pin him down on the ground. He grabs the web and tries to get it off of him, but it doesn’t work. Venom sprouts tendrils that make it literally look like a spider, with “legs” coming out of its back.
Luckily, Venom places one of these legs on top of the already hot grill, causing it to scream out in pain and freak out just enough for Hobie to get out of the “web’s” grasp. He quickly runs off, shooting out a web to disappear out of Venom’s sight. He sneaks around to the outside and sees Pav pushing an amp in place. It looks like they’re about halfway done, and Hobie nods. He can keep that thing distracted for that much longer.
He sneaks back into the indoor part of the stadium. He thinks about it, but ultimately decides he’s had enough with the stealth method. It obviously isn’t helping him in this instance, like it ever helped him before. “HEY VENOM! COME GET ME YA FUCKIN’ TOSSER!” he yells, and to his expectation, Venom burst through a wall and screams at him. Hobie shoots a web upwards and leaps up to the next story. Venom bursts through the floor, and Hobie quickly fires a web at a pillar, wrapping around it a few times and then firing another one to another pillar and tying them together tightly before taking off and doing it again to the next set of pillars, and then repeating it again. He made sure the first trap would land in the middle of Venom’s body, the second more of a tripwire, and the third at clothesline level. And it worked.
Venom ran directly into the first trap, which slowed it down, and then the second made it stumble and the third snapped its head back at a gross angle. It groans, and Hobie waves at it. “You should really watch where ya goin’,” he says, and Venom growls. “They feel everything.”
“What?” Hobie falters. “Your little partner. They feel it all.” Hobie frowns. Is that true? Did he just hurt you? Venom senses his distraction, and grabs him, pushing him down through the floor. He grunts, and Venom laughs. “It’s too easy,” it says, and Hobie glares at it. He’s trying to pretend like he isn’t completely battered and bruised by Venom, but damn. This alien can fight. He grunts as Venom picks him up off the ground and pushes him forcefully against the wall. “Aww, did that hurt?” Venom giggles, and he spits on it. He ignores that there was blood mixed in with the spit. That’s… probably not good, though. Venom smiles at him. “I don’t think I am going to kill you,” it hisses, cocking its head to the side. “I think I’ll keep you in case this body breaks.”
“Piss off, I’d never let you do that to me.”
“Even if it meant I would let (Y/n) go?” it asks, and Hobie clenches his jaw. Venom giggles. “Say I let them go, they could run free without the influence of me. Would you do it then?” Hobie clenches his fists, staying quiet. “You’d just make me kill them.”
“Clever boy,” it says, and Hobie yelps as Venom tightens its grip on him. “But you’re right. This body will do just fine, and I can easily find a new host if I need to,” Venom says, smirking at Hobie, “I’ll be kind to you before I kill you,” Venom says, and suddenly Venom’s creepy and unsettling grin melts away, and Hobie sees your face. You’ve been crying, and that sight alone breaks his heart. And your heart breaks at the sight of his bloodied lip, black eye and cut forehead. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to each other at the same time, but before any more words can be said, Venom takes over again.
Hobie tries to get out of its grasp again, but it's not happening. “Interesting choice for your last words,” Venom forms a fist, ready to strike Hobie, but before it can, it’s arm gets pulled backward by another web. “Those will not be his last words,” he hears Pavitr say. “Yeah, his last words will probably be ‘I DON’T AGREE WITH PEACEFUL PROTESTS’ or some shit,” Miles chimes in, webbing the arm holding Hobie against the wall and yanking it away from him. “I was thinking more like ‘I won’t let you hurt them!’ because I mean wow look at how unhinged he is right now! Imagine when they’re actually together,” Pav says. “Not the time, Pav,” Miles shakes his head, yanking Venom’s arm, even more, to make it parallel to the arm Pavitr’s holding back.
Pavitr and Miles hold Venom’s arms back as it shrieks and Hobie leaps away from it. “Good timin’, lads,” he says, wiping some of the blood off his face. “Don’t mention it,” Miles grunts and Hobie dodges some attacks thrown by Venom’s tendrils. “Miles! It’s sensitive to heat!” Hobie yells, and Miles smirks. “Ahhhh, I gotcha,” he says and uses his venom electricity strike. Venom yelps and falls backward. Pav and Miles let go of its arms, and the three of them crouch down. “Where’s Gwen?”
“She’s outside getting all the chords connected so all the amps play at once,” Miles says after electrocuting Venom again, meaning it didn’t hear what Miles just said. “Amazin’,” Hobie mumbles, dodging some more of Venom’s attacks. “I’m gonna get up there, stall it woulda?” Hobie says, webbing away.
He knows Venom is going to try and follow him, so he heads out to the open field. When he gets out there, he sees rows and rows of fireworks. What the hell were they celebrating that they needed this much fire power? He hears Venom’s yell and decides it’s not important, but it’s good that all of it is there. They can use that. He climbs and webs his way up to the top of the stadium, running over to Gwen who hands him the chord. “Thank you,” he says, plugging his guitar in, and she nods. “Don’t mention it.”
“Did you get everything out of their flat?”
“As much as we could. How do you know it’s the end?” she asks, and he frowns. “Cause I caused it.” He looks down, clenching his jaw and clearing his throat.
“It’s bout to get real loud. Tell Miles and Pav to lure it out,” Hobie says, and Gwen nods, about to web off. “Wait! Gwen, throw all the fireworks in a big pile,” he says, pointing to all of the fireworks. “What? Why?”
“Venom is sensitive to heat. Let’s blow it up.”
“But (Y/n) is–”
“They won’t be bonded when it happens, go!” Hobie says, and Gwen hurries to help the boys lure Venom out into the open. Hobie watches and waits, when he hears police sirens going off. Oh great. Piggies are coming to play. Maybe Venom will eat some of them. That would be the only time he ever supported Venom doing something. His attention gets pulled back to the field when he hears Venom’s shrieks. He sees Pav and Gwen web out, starting to throw the fireworks into a pile, and then Venom stumbles out, screaming from Miles electrocuting it once again. Hobie pulls out his pick, placing his fingers to form the beginning chord to one of his favorite songs. He hesitates and places his fingers to form a different chord. This time, it’s one of your favorite songs. He knows all of them by heart, anyways.
“When did you learn this song?” you ask him, as he lazily strums along to one of the songs playing on your vinyl player. He shrugs. “I hear it so much when I come over here, the real question would be when didn’t I learn this song,” he says, and you roll your eyes. He smiles slightly when he sees you swaying back and forth and humming along to the music.
The song ends, and without a beat, Hobie starts strumming along to the next one. “I must listen to this vinyl way too much,” you comment, and he shrugs. “At least it isn’t a shit album.”
Watching you vibe with his playing made him make a promise to himself, he would always learn your favorite songs just so he could see your reaction to him playing them.
How didn’t he realize his feelings before?
Venom spots him, and screams up at him, ready to rush up the seats of the stadium and take him down. He takes a deep breath.
“Come back to me, love.”
He strums, and the sound causes Venom to stumble, holding its ears while it screams. He can see Gwen, Pav, and Miles wince slightly from the noise as they finish bringing all the fireworks into a pile in the middle of the stadium. They web up to where Hobie is and turn to see what happens. Hobie doesn’t acknowledge them, his main focus is on you. Venom’s skin starts bubbling around you, and it seems to literally be melting. He sees flashes of you, the pain affecting you in the same way as Venom. It nearly makes him stop playing seeing the distress on your face. But he remembers it’s the symbiote causing you the pain, and he needs to get it off of you as soon as possible. The position Venom is in, trying desperately to cover its ears suddenly breaks as you finally regain control of your own body. You rip some of the symbiote off, your face breaking through. Hobie keeps playing, fixated on you as you crawl away from the inky black alien. It looks straight out of a horror movie, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re gonna think you looked so cool. He’ll still give you some playful shit about how you looked though. It wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t.
He nearly tears up when he sees you completely separate from Venom. You look up, seeing him and the others, and immediately web up to him. You’re in your suit, but your mask isn’t on, and Hobie stops playing seeing that you’re next to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, hugging him like your life depended on it. He hugs back, somehow tighter than you are. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and he shakes his head. “No, love, you’re okay. You don’t have to apologize for nothin’,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. If the two of you could choose, you would stay like this forever. But the two of you are spiders. And it never works out like that for spiders.
“HOBIE LOOK OUT!”
Hobie hears Gwen shout just a second too late, and one of Venom’s “webs” attaches itself to his back, pulling him off the edge of the stadium. You reach your hand out to prevent it, and Hobie reaches out his, but you just weren’t fast enough. Your fingertips brush each other, but before you can grab his hand, he’s out of reach. You watch as he gets pulled down to the bottom of the stadium.
For the second time, you weren’t fast enough.
You get flashbacks to your second canon event, and a single tear escapes your eye.
Hobie, on the other hand, can feel Venom overtake him, no matter how hard he tries to fight it off. He starts to panic, hearing Miguel’s voice in his mind.
“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”
Now the tears are falling freely down his face. This can’t be happening. He can’t let this happen. Why is this happening?
Once the shock of what happened passes, you find yourself pissed off. You just got back to Hobie, and now this alien thinks it can take him away? Fuck that. You scream out of frustration, webbing down and punching Venom’s newly formed face, full force. Well, as full force as your exhausted body will let you. You feel your hand break from your own strength coming into contact with something equally as strong, but Venom falls backward, so you don’t really care. You ignore the pain, noticing the pile of fireworks. You understand the assignment immediately. Unfortunately for you, Venom bounces back faster than you thought and punches you in the stomach. You grunt, coughing up blood, as you fly backward and hit the side of the stadium wall, hard. You glare at Venom, who laughs. “So weak,” you hear it say, and you glare at it. “Maybe if I should have drained more of your life force. Then you wouldn’t have even been able to punch me like that. Though, I know it took up more energy than you would have liked to do so,” Venom roars at you, beginning to charge at you.
You web to the other side of the stadium as Miles jumps down. “I got it,” he says, electrocuting Venom once more to slow it down. It screams and swats him out of the way. He hits the wall, and shakes his head, webbing up to Gwen and Pav, who immediately assesses the damage he got from Venom’s hit. They notice you’re up here, too now. “You are just so fast,” Pav says, impressed. “Oh my god, (Y/n), your hand,” she says, seeing it already turning black and blue, and blood pouring from it. “Not important right now,” you growl, picking up Hobie’s guitar. Luckily, your strumming hand is the hand that broke, so you form your fingers to a specific chord and strum. You play Hobie’s favorite song, the one he taught you to try and show you ‘real music’ so long ago.
“Ugh, can’t we listen to something other than your moody goth music?” Hobie asks, lazily turning his head towards you as he laid on his couch. Gwen, Pav, and Miles left like 30 minutes ago, but Shadow was too comfortable on Hobie’s chest for him to leave. “No, actually, we can’t. And don’t act like this song isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.”
“Listen just cause it’s your favorite doesn’t mean it has to be mine, love,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “You’re such an asshole, Hobart.”
“It’s part of my charm,” he says and you fake gag. At the sound, Shadow hops off Hobie and makes his way to you, making sure you’re okay. “Alright, you can leave now. Yayy, Shadow! Wooo!” you say, petting your cat and pretending like you want Hobie to leave. He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I’m not goin’ nowhere. Come here,” he says pulling his guitar from behind the couch and into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“I’m showing you real music. So, sit down, shut up, and soak up the jams.”
You play through the pain, doing the exact thing he did when he first showed you. Albeit not as good as him. But it works, he breaks away from Venom, running, climbing, and webbing as fast as he can to get to you. And seeing the sight of you playing the guitar like that? Especially his favorite song? He could have fainted if he wasn’t worried you’d die immediately after he did. He sees your hand and frowns. “Give me the guitar, love,” he says, taking it out of your hands gently, and picking up where you left off. Except he quickly fades into one of your songs. You smile slightly and look at him. He gives you a small smile back. “Hobie, you have your lighter?” you ask, and he nods. “I’m gonna go down there and convince it to come to the fireworks pile. When I say, throw me your lighter,” you say. “Kick its fuckin’ ass, (Y/n),” he says, as you leap off the top of the stadium.
The four spiders up top suddenly hear a police bullhorn. “We have you surrounded. Hands up or we will resort to using force!”
Hobie turns his guitar up louder.
You web down, purposely aiming to kick Venom closer to the fireworks pile. You hit the ground and roll, landing in a crouch before standing and sprinting to the pile. You scream Hobie’s name, and he throws you his lighter. He stops playing, seeing that it needs to be able to actually move to get to the pile. You web up a story, catching it before rolling back down on the ground. Venom shrieks in its symbiote form, and comes rushing toward you, but you quickly ignite the lighter, throwing it on the pile of fireworks. You leap on top of it, ensuring that Venom will be in the line of fire, and when the first one begins going off as Venom tries desperately to climb it and get to you, you web off it as fast as you can. Hobie watches as you get halfway up before all of the fireworks go off at once.
He hears Venom’s screams, but all he can focus on is watching you as the explosion breaks your web and propels you way higher than you should have gone. He quickly uses his left hand to web a building close by and his right hand to another one and slingshots himself up to you. He catches you in midair, cradling you to his body and webbing to another building. Luckily, Mortician Square Garden was close to the Ember Stake Building, your favorite spot in all of the city. He lands, crouching down and holding you in his arms in a way that your legs are resting on the building. You lean your head against his chest, and he gently places a hand on the side of your face. “Alright, love?” he mumbles, and you give him a small, weak smile. “’m tired, Hobie.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he says, running his thumb back and forth across your cheek. “Bet I looked cool just then, though,” you say, and Hobie chuckles. “Dunno. Think you need to work on your form,” he says, and you laugh softly. “You played my favorite,” you mumble, and he nods. “You played mine.”
“Not very well.”
“I would listen to that every day of my life, love.” You turn your head slightly to see the amount of fireworks lighting up the night sky. Hobie stays looking at you. “Looks pretty,” you mutter, and he grins. “Yeah. Sure does,” he says, ignoring the fireworks completely. “Reckon I get you somewhere safe to rest?” he says, and you nod softly. “I’d like that,” you mumble, turning your head back to him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, not saying anything. He looks up, standing and helping you stand as well. He gently turns you to see your city, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I gotta admit. I do like it here,” he whispers in your ear. You smile softly, looking out at the city from your favorite spot. After getting a good look, you feel your legs about to give out as your eyes flutter closed. He catches you before you fall and is grateful you stopped looking when you did because he starts to see the nothingness begin to claim your world. You hear Hobie very quietly say, “I’ve got you, my love.”
Then everything fades to black.
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tabithatwo · 11 months
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are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.
so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.
why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.
and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.
jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.
if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)
the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.
callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.
(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)
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likelilacwine · 5 months
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the one
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pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
word count: 10k
about: in the aftermath of incredible loss and pain and nearly losing satoru himself, a week long road trip on one of the most famous routes in the world solidifies what you've already known to be true about gojo - he is the one for you & you for him.
contents: nsfw - mdni. established relationship (reader and gojo are engaged), story told through vignettes, major spoilers for ch 220 and beyond although the story is not canon compliant (gojo dies and is revived), major character deaths and discussion of them, descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and dealing with trauma, discussions about marriage and engagement, mentions of blood and injury.
gojo has an identity crisis, reader is a teacher and is appointed interim principal of the Tokyo campus, lots of flowery descriptions of nature and of my beloved california (i am not a california girl but i have longed my whole life 2 be one), gojo is referred to as husband, sweetheart, and baby, reader is referred to as wife, angel, pretty, and baby, reader has breasts, small smut scene with sensual and romantic unprotected piv sex, mutual body worship, vaginal fingering, creampie.
notes: if you have made it to this point and still want to read, thank you. this is a love letter spritzed with parfums de marly delina sent directly to gojo satoru from me and i'm very proud of this work.
he's so important to me and i think exploring him when he can't hide behind the veneer of being strong anymore is one of the most worthwhile uses of my time since ever. i hope that you enjoy ♡
wavy divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!!!!
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One week.
One measly, little week - 168 hours or seven unique opportunities to see the sun rise and set - is all you’re asking to be granted while promising all but your limbs and hypothetical first born child to the acting principal of both the Kyoto and Tokyo campuses following the deaths of both Yaga and Gakuganji.
Utahime’s arms are folded over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line while taking everything that has happened over the last month into consideration. Do you guys even have time for a break of any kind? 
Time, as you and her have both learned since that fateful night in Shibuya, becomes more difficult to quantify when you feel it’s slipping away. Every day since October 31st has felt like something each of you have had to earn rather than been given by sheer act of existence. It has been a fight since the moment each of you stepped foot into the railway station and now that it’s over, things feel so undefined. 
What comes next now that the immediate evil is gone? There will always be another threat of danger that appears as soon as one is eliminated and all that’s left of the sorcery community learned the hard way that sometimes that evil proves difficult without the man who has worked tirelessly to keep all of you safe around.
“Please. He needs this so badly and I know if I don’t force him to stop, he won’t.”
Your plea causes her gaze to shift from downward to your face and Utahime’s distaste for the man in question all but disappears when she looks over the concerned furrow of your brow and the dark circles under your eyes. She watched Gojo being whisked away to return to the Tokyo campus, the place where the two of you are sitting and having this discussion, ripped to all but bits but still throwing his thumb up to confirm he’s okay to everyone’s mixed annoyance and amusement. 
Contemplating every aspect of the situation for a moment, she comes to the conclusion that this week is something both of you need and there’s no viable way for her to tell you no. Not when you look so desperate, hands shaking and eyes sunken. 
Despite the mess you will be leaving behind, building debris and rubble the mere surface of the ripples caused in your small community and wider society by Satoru’s defeat of Kenjaku and Sukuna both within days of each other, she feels there’s no other option but to reluctantly give in.
“Okay.”
The tone of her voice is so tentative you’re expecting a but as her very next word but she shuts her mouth with finality written across her face. Grateful, you bow your head and blink back tears but she walks toward you and grabs one of your hands. She squeezes it gently, reminding herself to avoid the spots you broke it in 7 weeks ago and you find the sudden change in her demeanor concerning. 
Did she change her mind? Is he going to have to go from half dead on a cold metal table right back into the swing of things? 
“When you get back, be ready because you’re in charge here.”
The news comes as a shock and she can tell, your eyes widening and hollowing further. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow, blinking additional tears back, ashamed that your weakness is what represents the strongest individuals you’ve ever met and not just the one who your heart belongs to.
Iori doesn’t stick around for long to watch you come to terms with your new position, simply squeezing your hand and patting it with the back of her other one, before dropping it to slink off to her students that stand on the opposite side of the lounge everyone is occupying. 
Shutting your eyes tightly, you use the time to balance yourself and remember that you can deal with the upcoming challenges when you return. What’s most important is the here and now and there are a few things you’re currently sure of. 
First, Satoru is alive and breathing despite the terror you experienced when he was not. Second, you have at least one week to contemplate your own future and in true procrastinator form, you will wait until the last minute to even begin processing the weight of the responsibilities that have been placed on your shoulders. 
“He’s asking for you.”
Shoko’s approach is stealthy and you don’t notice her until she’s pulling a glove off beside you, the snap of the latex making you forget the tidy little list you were creating in your head. She doesn’t look any more morose than usual and you take it as a good sign, awkwardly nodding and keeping your head pointed toward the ground to avoid prying eyes. 
It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know about the two of you but there’s no plausible deniability anymore. No coy smiles and playing it off like it’s no big deal, not when there’s an engagement ring nestled safely in its box on your nightstand at home and when he’s asking for you as soon as he wakes up.
The room is eerily silent as you shuffle out of it beside one of your oldest friends and this is where she finally drapes an arm around your shoulder, stopping you and crowding you off to the side of the hallway. 
“He doesn’t look like himself right now,” she warns and you nod. You expected it, his energy depleted by the time both battles were won, but you still swallow thickly and struggle to get the lump in your throat down. Once she’s certain you are okay, she nods and keeps her arm around your shoulder until you reach the metal door to her domain that separates you and the love of your life.
“I’m going to give you two some privacy but if you need me you know where I’ll be.”
You’re sure she’s grateful for the reprieve, catching sight of her puffy eyes as she turns to walk away. You stop her and she smiles wordlessly, friends for long enough that the two of you know what the other is thinking. 
Thank you, I know, I’m glad he’s okay too.
Pushing the door open you hear an exaggerated groan and a watery giggle bubbles out of you. He just can’t help himself, one arm wrapped securely and safely and the other still oozing through its bandages. His torso is exposed and you can see the blow that killed him firsthand, an unnaturally precise cut across his lower abdomen. 
This is the sight that chokes you up and he chuckles weakly, unable to lift his head more than a few inches. He does look different, covered in scrapes and cuts and blood of uncertain origin, but he’s still himself. Those dimples still stick out against his pale skin when he smiles weakly at you and despite its pinkish hue, his white hair sticks up on end like it always does.
“No crying, baby.”
Sniffling, you look toward the cold tiles below and he tuts from the operating table. Holding his cleanly wrapped arm up he curls a finger toward himself to beckon you over.
“C‘mere.”
Slowly, you do. Each footstep feels as though you’re walking across cracking ice and it makes you cautious, scared that you’ve deluded yourself into believing that he’s here and he’s fine and things are going to be okay and in the midst of the angst, suddenly you remember - he is. 
He’s in front of you and breathing and you can’t stop the tears from falling when you reach the edge of the table, reaching to cup his face in your palms like you always do. 
“Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Another weak chuckle and he wraps his hand around one of your wrists, delicately holding it with his thumb and index finger. 
“Didn’t you say that about the prison realm too?”
Nodding and sniffling, you smile and he smiles back. It’s warm and inviting and all you can think about is how you feared you’d never see it again; that he’d become another loss forcing you to grow colder and colder until the inevitability of becoming a husk like the other sorcerers in your life would come true. 
“Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I need some new material.”
A chuckle that turns into a wince makes you coo and his half smile instantly turns smug, one corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk. 
“I have always been the funny one, haven’t I?”
Scoffing, you don’t playfully swat at him like you always do and he misses it. The gentle swipe of your fingers across his pec or shoulder or arm to let him know he has entertained you is something he will not take for granted from this day forward. His chest tightens and his loose grip around your wrist tightens.
It hasn’t registered quite yet that he almost never saw you again twice. That realization will come painfully when he’s struggling to sleep some night, wrapping himself around your body to be certain you will never leave his side, as all of his realizations about his own mortality do. 
Until then he’ll embrace the reality in front of him.
“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispers and you see a shadow of sadness cross his face, smirk drooping into a frown. Your palms on his skin leech warmth into his tired bones and he shifts his head to lean into one of your hands, eyes fluttering shut and staying that way until he musters enough humility to say what he wants to say to you the most.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s still the coward's way out but he’s simply too tired and weakened to go into the specifics of everything he’s sorry for. Is strength even worth it if you still managed to save so few people you care about? The weight of the world remains on his shoulders and you carefully lean over him, pressing your cheek to his and shifting your hands from his face to his shoulders. 
“Oh sweetheart,” it’s a nickname you rarely use for him and it makes his heart leap to hear it even when your voice cracks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Never to me.”
He wishes he agreed with you. 
“Well, I am and nothing like this will ever happen again.”
The unspoken truth between both of you is that he said the same thing when he was released from the prison realm weeks ago and yet, this happened.
“You can’t control everything, Satoru.” You lift your cheek from his and glance down at him to see his eyes half open. “Nothing that has happened is your fault.”
Something else he wishes he could agree with. He gives you a small smile and you lean to kiss his cheek, shutting your eyes tightly to keep from breaking into absolute hysterics. You’ve been teetering on the edge for days but you know this is not the time for your usual dramatics, it’s time to hold it together for him like he has done for you so many times.
“But we can and should talk about this more on our trip.”
His half open eyes shoot open and he looks at you with uncertainty etched in all of his pretty features. 
“Trip?”
Currently, he’s in no condition to go anywhere except for hopefully home with you tonight, but a few more hours with Shoko and his cursed energy slowly returning should be enough to get the process of healing going but he knows you know that and wonders what your angle is. 
“Road trip. Very little impact, all we have to do is fly to California and don’t worry, I’ll drive the whole time.”
He smiles and chuckles, reaching to capture your hand in his own and lift your palm to his mouth. Kissing you gently, he sits up a little more now that he’s feeling stronger and you lean on the side of the table.
“How long?”
“I had to practically beg for it but we both have a whole week off. The road trip will be 5 days and we’ll have two days to travel there and back.”
Summarizing the trip aloud makes it feel real despite you having done no work to make it so, eager to see him and how he’s doing before making any solid plans, but you can tell that he’s interested based solely by the look on his face. Still, you worry it’s too soon and too much after everything that has happened.
“Do you want to? We can always hold off and do it another time if you don’t feel up to it.”
He shakes his head and kisses your palm again, molding your fingers to the curve of his face so that he can be held by you for just a little while. Your touch may not heal him physically but it fills the gaps in his soul, the little pieces he has been torn into since October 31st, and he needs it more than he needs another session of energy granted to him from Shoko right now.
“I want to go as soon as we can. Especially if I get to look pretty in the passenger seat the entire time.”
It’s so beautiful to have him come back to you a bit at a time and your heart swells until you’re afraid it’ll burst when you look down at him. His eyes are shut again and his cheek fits perfectly in your palm, just as it always does. 
He lived and now he gets to have a week by your side with no responsibilities. If he weren’t so comforted by your presence right now, certain you are real and tangible and holding him to the best of your ability in his current condition, he would believe that he’s still dead.
“I should let Shoko get back to work,” you say finally and he whines. A little bit more of him comes back with each passing moment and emotion swells again, your eyes burning when they start to well up. 
“I love you,” he whispers and you lean down to kiss him for real, your soft lips hungrily pressing against his dry and split ones for the first time since he left you and came back. It’s familiar and it sends you over the edge, tears breeching your closed eyes and dripping onto his cheek. He laughs, although it’s a bit hollow, and you back your face away from his.
“I told you no crying.”
You laugh and lean in to steal another kiss, his arm wrapping around your body and cupping your hip. The kiss grows in intensity, although it’s more a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths more than it is an earnest makeout session, and his hand slides from your hip to your ass just as the metal door screeches open.
“Save that for when I send him home with you tonight.”
Heels clack across the tile floor and you peel yourself away from Satoru, who keeps his hand firmly cupping your ass, turning your head to see Shoko snapping on a pair of gloves and walking toward her patient. You shoot her a grateful smile and she nods her head, letting you lean in for one more kiss before reluctantly parting.
“Man I love her,” you hear him mutter to Shoko who laughs and shakes her head as you’re leaving. 
“Yeah, I know. You never shut up about it even when you’re half dead.”
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DAY 1 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA
Your flight landed three hours ago, 9 hours passing far more quickly than you expected. Satoru held your hand the entire flight and you let him have the window seat, watching clouds obscure the light dancing over his face every time he'd shift his gaze toward the sky outside. Looking at him never gets old, even with a baseball cap pulled over his face to obscure his injuries despite how much they’ve improved since days ago. 
Disembarking and entering the airport felt like going through the motions and you realized while grabbing your luggage that it has felt like that all day. It feels like just going through the motions despite everything and your excitement for the next several days and guilt gnaws at you because of it. Shouldn’t you be living every day, minute, second as joyfully as possible given Satoru is alive and with you? Why do you still feel so bad?
The feeling remains a mystery while the two of you gradually make your way out of the airport and into the cool city lying outside, your rental car already picked up and the keys jingling in your hand as you unlock the door to load everything up. Gojo takes the duties over for you and you smile at him gratefully, heading to the driver’s seat to get settled in.
“You alright?”
He has asked you many times today how you’re doing and your answer has been a polite nod and a smile each time, maybe a muttered “yeah I’m alright” if he’s lucky, but he can tell something is bothering you. Chalking it up to travel anxiety, he slides into the passenger seat and finally takes his hat off, chucking it aside. You watch his wispy hair fall over his face, the dark bruise on his cheekbone finally looking lighter than it did when you left Tokyo this morning and you genuinely smile for the first time all day.
“Hello handsome.”
Satoru chuckles and you laugh along with him, eyes crinkling at the corners. You aren’t sure if it’s exhausted delirium making you feel better but you allow yourself to feel at ease for the first time in weeks, settling into your seat and starting the engine of the mid size SUV that will be your chariot for the next several days.
“Do you wanna go straight to the hotel or did you want to stop somewhere first?”
He hums, thinking, and his stomach growls which gives him his answer.
“Let’s stop and get something to eat.”
You nod, tipping your head toward his phone.
“Your pick. Find a place and I’ll get us there.”
Picking the device up, he smiles at the sight of your face next to his on the screen, matching grins as big as your faces. Hopefully there will be opportunities for more photos just like that one on this trip despite how worn both of you feel right now. 
Even smiling sounds exhausting at this point but he musters one for you, opening the app with a little map as its logo, searching for restaurants near the airport. He wrinkles his nose at the list of chain restaurants and settles on a deli that looks easy to get in and out of, disinterested in a sit down meal. 
He turns the phone in your direction.
“Sounds good?”
You hum affirmatively and press on the screen, a digital voice through the speaker giving you turn by turn directions. You’ve visited San Francisco before and so has he, just not together, and the two of you smile contentedly watching the city roll by and you’ve arrived before you know it, parking on the sidewalk outside of the entrance. He grabs the cap he dropped onto the floorboards and slips it over his head, the bill covering his bruised eyes.
Taking a deep breath, you don’t notice he’s glancing at you until you turn to look at him and his brow is furrowed in concern. You are wound as tightly as he’s ever seen you and he worries this entire trip and the pressure of it is stressing you out more than you already are, the opposite of the desired effect. 
“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”
Nodding, you plaster on a quick smile and reach for the door handle. 
“I think I’m just tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept well.”
He understands not to push any further despite lingering concern and he opens his door, stepping out into the cool evening and sighing contentedly, stretching his long limbs out. Still a little stiff from his injuries, he waits on the sidewalk for you to round the car and join him and wiggles his arms and hands. 
“You look so cute when you do that,” you mutter with a smile. For a moment, his concern quiets down but your face falls so quickly it comes straight back. Coming to his side, you clutch his hand as if it’s an anchor keeping you sane and nod in the direction of the door. “After you, baby.”
Gladly, he pulls you along with him and the bell over the door dings. It’s a small space and while not packed wall to wall, it’s more crowded than you expected on a weekday evening and you take it in stride, the overhead lighting making your eyes burn after a day spent in mostly darkness. Satoru leans down and kisses the top of your head, inspecting the menu hanging from the ceiling, keeping his mouth pressed against your hair and humming. It’s comforting and you appreciate the gesture, he knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re struggling, but you can’t focus on what’s happening with the pit in your stomach growing wider by the second.
This room full of people has no idea what either of you have just been through. The weeks of hell, watching the man you love so much you’re afraid it will be your downfall, die in front of you and return like Lazarus himself, your best friend’s death. 
Your hands start to shake and your mouth runs dry.
They have no idea your fiancé just killed the body of a man he loved dearly for the second time or that children he assisted raising both lost their lives in the process. These strangers will never know or understand what happened, their lives continuing as carelessly and freely as they always have, and a lump develops in your throat remembering the responsibilities waiting for you when you return home. 
Your life has changed forever and the world keeps turning, a notion that is suffocating.
It has been years since your last panic attack but you recognize the feeling immediately. The room shrinks and you laugh nervously, balling your fists. Satoru recognizes something is wrong and tries to grab your attention, quietly mouthing words you can’t make out. Shaking your head and blinking, you laugh again and he uses his grip on your hand to gently guide you toward the door. He keeps his steps short and soft to make sure you stay with him until the two of you are able to find a way to slip outside. 
Bending at the knees slightly to come face level with you, he cups your face with your free hand and knits his brows together. If you can't remember the last time you had a panic attack neither can he and he wracks his tired brain to figure out how to make this better. You aren’t asking him to, just for his support, but he has failed to keep you safe and happy so many times he can’t bear to let you fall victim to your own mind while he stands and breathes beside you.
“Come on, let’s get in the car.”
Nodding, you can’t fight the tears anymore and they start to flow freely, dripping down your face and onto the sidewalk below as you let go of his hand long enough to skulk to the driver’s seat of the SUV. Opening the door and sliding in, the door has barely shut by the time you sob aloud, gasping for air and lifting your shaking hands to your face. 
Satoru grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pulls your hands down from your cheeks gently, using his other hand to position your head until you’re facing him. Seeing you like this utterly rends him, his own throat tightening watching you struggle to breathe. Without thinking, he does what he would do for his students in this situation.
“Can you breathe for me?”
Despite how sobs make your shoulders shake, you nod and try to inhale deeply through your nose. It still doesn’t feel like enough air but you panic less once it reaches your lungs, exhaling through your mouth.
“Oh, baby.” He hates that this is the only thing he can think of to say. There has and never will be a point where he’s better at words of comfort than you are and it intimidates him how his blindspots only come to light when people need him the most. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Without thinking, you blurt out the news you wanted to tell him after you returned home. 
“They’re making me principal.”
His eyes widen and he starts to grin but it dims as soon as he sees more tears fall down your face, your sniffling filling the car.
“They picked the best person for the job,” he comforts and you shake your head, refusing to believe that it’s true.
“They picked the easiest scapegoat. They’re going to kill me just like they did Yaga.”
The people who killed Yaga have been permanently removed from their positions by two of your students, their deaths coming just before Satoru’s battle with Sukuna began, but you still worry about what comes next. The clans now hold all of the power and if they’re angry enough over what occurred, you’re the person who will be on the hook to deal with it all.
“No one is going to do that, I would never let them.”
You sniffle and look away, brows furrowed while tears drip into your lap.
“What if it isn’t your choice, Satoru?”
A dark thought consumes the usually easy going man, his stomach turning. Has your faith in him wavered? Do you think he wouldn’t cut down anyone who dared try to hurt or upset you? 
“Look at me?”
You do, just as you do any time he asks, and he sighs defeatedly. Now your hackles are raised because you’re worried about him, sniffling and reaching across the car for him. You clutch onto his t-shirt and he lets you, the fabric spilling between your fingers.
“I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” You’ve never seen him look so serious, no trace of humor to be found anywhere. No glimmer in his tired blue eyes, no upturned lip to reveal a dimple. You know he needs this confirmation and you nod, sniffling and pulling him closer to you with his shirt.
“Do you trust me?” You nod but it isn’t enough, his gaze still hardened. “I need you to say it.”
Swallowing to try and wet your dry mouth, you nod again and sniffle.
“I trust you with everything and I always will.” Another sniffle but you feel more normal, your breaths still coming quicker than usual but slowly steadying with each moment that passes. Keeping his shirt in your balled fists, you sigh and shake your head. “This isn’t about not trusting you, it’s about being afraid of what comes next.”
Now he understands. 
Your faith in him is unshakeable, something you have told him more times than you can count and meant every single one, but the future itself is terrifying. Nobody knows what is coming next, least of all you.
“I know but just like you always tell me, things will work out how they’re supposed to and if they don’t, I will kill anyone who is mean to you.”
Finally, this draws a watery laugh from you and he softens, posture slackening. His stomach growls again and you whine, upset that your own antics prevented him from doing what you two came here to do in the first place - eat.
“I’m sorry about this,” you mumble and he leans over the console to kiss your forehead. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’d rather get room service anyway.”
Sniffling again, you untangle your hands from his shirt and turn toward the wheel, positioning yourself to start driving again.
“Wanna go to the hotel then?”
He nods with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 
“Do you want me to drive?”
You shake your head, face looking far less distraught than it did a few minutes ago, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 
“Will you really kill anyone who is mean to me?”
He hums exaggeratedly to accompany an animated nod.
“Thank you,” you whisper and he squeezes your shoulder with his arm.
“I’m a nice guy, what can I say?”
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DAY 3 - MONTEREY, CA TO BIG SUR, CA
The California coastline glimmers beneath the sun and although you’re driving, you keep sneaking glances toward the edge of the highway, eyes widening every time something beautiful comes into view. You may as well keep them wide open, constantly amazed by the world surrounding you even as it breezes past while you drive.
Day 2 went off without a hitch for the most part, no panic attacks or the like occurring, but you noticed this morning that Satoru seemed quiet. His usual exuberance has been missing from your conversations, instead dimmed down into something that feels like an imitation of the man. You understand this is part of the process of coming to terms with everything that happens but you feel guilty, as if your outburst is keeping him from feeling comfortable enough to be himself.
It could also have nothing to do with you but it’s easier to blame yourself than it is to think about anything else that could possibly be bothering him, your tendency to fall on your sword even worse when it comes to him. The devotion he gives you is returned in full, your natural instinct always to keep him happy and away from anything that could hurt him as unfair as it can be to do so. 
You can’t protect anyone from sorrow, it comes as naturally as the waves wash up on the shore below you, all you can do is witness it unfold and hope it doesn’t become a tsunami.
The two of you have been driving in comfortable silence for miles, occasionally oohing aloud at the cliff sides, but it has become less comfortable now that you’re thinking about how it has been like this all day. You try to think of something to talk about but come up short, focusing on the road, and he captures your attention when he speaks.
“I saw them, you know. When I died.”
You raise your eyebrows but don’t look at him, keeping your focus on the road.
“Did you?”
Satoru nods and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, carelessly sticking his hand out of the small crack in the unrolled window. It isn’t big enough to let the chilly winter air through but it’s just wide enough for him to feel the wind at 40 mph with his Infinity off. 
“Yup, they asked me about you. How you’re doing.”
He doesn’t have to say who he saw but you know, gut churning. It’s unlikely that Kento would ask, given you were one of the last people he saw before meeting his fate but Yu and - as painful as it is to even recall his name sometimes - Suguru would. 
“What’d you tell them?”
“The truth.”
Raising a brow, you focus on the road ahead of you and drum your fingertips idly against the sides of the steering wheel hoping he’ll elaborate on what the truth actually is. The silence sits heavier than you’d like it to and you open your mouth to end it but he beats you to the punch, head tipped back against the seat he’s sitting in. 
“Told them about us and that we’re going to get married.” You smile and he watches your cheek curve, mirroring it with one of his own that fades quickly while he continues speaking. “Told them you’re probably doing pretty badly because I failed to keep you safe. That you have been dead already.”
Shooting him a glance out of the corner of your eye, it’s hard to convey exactly how his words affect you while navigating a vehicle down an elevated single lane highway. 
Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to exist vulnerably. You’ve always been the wall between himself and the world, the place where he has allowed himself to soften and take down all airs, but now he wonders what it would be like if he extended that beyond just you. Other friends, what remains of his family, his students. He could never fully give himself to anyone the way he has to you but it’s something to consider while he spreads his fingers and lets the wind blow through them.
Does he deserve any of this?
He didn’t keep you safe. He didn’t keep Megumi or Tsumiki or Nobara safe. He failed, yet here he sits by your side, cold air chilling the tips of his fingers. In an instant, he feels nothing, turning his Infinity on wordlessly and keeping his gaze locked on the trees rushing by his window while you consider what to say to help him right now. 
“It has never been your responsibility to keep me safe, Satoru.”
He chuckles humorlessly and swallows so thickly you can hear it even with the sound of air entering the car through the cracked window. 
“For my entire life, my only purpose has been to keep people safe. If I can’t do that, what can I do?”
Glancing at the road, you spot the shoulder and decide to pull off to the side, parking and turning on your lights. Satoru has been wordless and still for longer than you’ve ever seen him and your heart breaks imagining how he must feel right now. 
The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and he has done it since before he could form full sentences, a fact you forget because he wears the responsibility as though it’s a cloak he can shrug off at any time, but you know that he takes it far more seriously inwardly. His life has been wrapped up in grooming him to be not simply a protector, but the protector, the gatekeeper of the insular society the two of you are a part of.
“Look at me?”
You ask just as he asked you to do two days ago and he does, the quarter turn of his head giving you an actual view of his face for the first time all day. He looks better than he did yesterday, scratches and bruises healing far faster than they would otherwise as he restores his energy. His eyes meet yours for a minute and you catch the shimmer that means his Infinity is turned on and you look away from him to compose yourself. 
His carefully crafted facade has shattered at his feet - he’ll always be The Strongest but his weakness was exposed in the form of bleeding out, severed through the middle, on a battlefield. What is he supposed to do now? 
Your eyes turn toward him once again and you sigh though it holds nothing but concern and you unbuckle your seatbelt to shift your body until you’re facing him, knees pressed against the center console. He half smiles and chuckles to himself seeing you move and get comfortable but it dies as quickly as it came, his head still pressed to the headrest while looking directly at you.
All you can do is help him pick up the pieces and figure out who he wants to be now that he has the ability to choose. 
“You know I don’t love you because you’re strong, right?”
He shrugs.
“I’m sure it probably helps.”
“No, Satoru. I love you because you make me laugh and cry and get angry sometimes. You let me be myself and never ask that I be anyone different even though I’m sure it would make your life easier if I were less stubborn and set in my ways.”
Getting choked up, you stop yourself and his eyes stop shimmering, Infinity off. He reaches across the center console and holds your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it and feeling the puckered wounds that are becoming eerily smooth scars. Swallowing, you blink and will yourself to keep it together until you get through what you have to say.
“I love you because you are courageous and that has nothing to do with your abilities, that’s who you are in your heart. You care so much despite how little you try to show it and your devotion goes deeper than the ocean and you are loyal and…”
Trailing off, searching for the words to sum up how you feel about him, he squeezes his hand and you see a peek of him in the soft smile on his face. Tipping his head to the side, he widens his eyes.
“You forgot handsome.”
Despite being near tears, you laugh and he feels warmer just listening to it and witnessing the grin he loves so much spreading across your face.
“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, even when you’re a little scraped up, don’t worry about that.”
Despite how difficult you have been to understand throughout various points in your decade long relationship with the man, he knows everything you’re saying is true or else you would not say it. You are too honest at times even if it’s sugarcoated to keep from hurting feelings but he knows you give him the most vulnerable form of yourself just as he does for you. 
He scrunches his nose and turns toward you, unbuckling so he can shift his body to face you. 
“Those sound like vows. Have you been practicing?”
Shrugging, you play his question off with a wry smile because he caught you. You still feel teary but blinking keeps any from coming and you idly play with his fingers and allow yourself to indulge in romance despite the heaviness still lingering between the two of you.
“Not necessarily practicing, just trying to figure out how to put how I feel about you into words because I don’t think the words I need exist.”
An arched brow is his response and you roll your eyes, tilting your chin toward the ground to hide your smile. He doesn’t want to coax anything additional out of you but the relief he feels knowing you still want to marry him despite everything that has happened is almost as comforting as the first breath he took waking back up after being healed enough to keep going by Shoko and Yuuta. 
He would be doing you both a disservice if he let you off the hook completely, though.
“So you still want to marry me?”
You scoff, lifting your head to look at him with a raised brow that mirrors the one he just gave you.
“Please. I’d marry you right now if you wanted.”
“Then do it.”
Opening your mouth to speak, you stop when the words won’t come, and he fills in the blanks for you.
“Let’s get married right now.”
“Satoru, we are in a car pulled off to the side of the road on one of the most famous highways in America.”
“So?”
At least his mood seems to have improved, the mischievous glimmer back in his eyes as he looks at where your hand and his take turns smoothing over each other. The two of you are always so sync even if you don’t realize it, seeking one another out like air, and you inhale sharply to keep from getting emotional once again.
“Okay. How do you wanna do it?”
He grins, shrugging.
“I guess we just say it.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you shoot at him despite the smile on your face and he leans across the center console to kiss you. It amazes you just how many different types of kisses this man can give you in the span of a few minutes, going from silly to sweet to sincere to sexy, but you’re grateful to be on the receiving end of each one. Your lips mold to his perfectly, no longer split and cracked the way they were a few days ago, and he pulls back from you with raised brows and meets your eyes.
“And you’re my wife.”
For as unceremonious as the event of apparently becoming his wife has been, you feel a rush of heat to your face when he says the word in reference to you and the way his gemstone eyes are gazing into yours tells you that he means it. You are his wife and as far as you’re concerned, just saying it is enough, you can worry about the rest later.
“Does that make you my husband?”
Smiling, he tips his head and leans forward to press his forehead against yours.
“I sure hope so.”
And so it begins, the rest of your trip as makeshift newlyweds, your heart pounding at the realization that this means forever. This is the commitment to one another you’ve both been anticipating and scared to make, you spent years running from him because you knew this was the only outcome, but with noses touching and two sets of eyes blinking at one another it has never been more apparent that you two were meant for this, for each other.
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DAY 6 - MALIBU, CA - POINT DUME LOOKOUT
The final day of the trip has passed by at lightning speed, your flight leaving from LAX first thing in the morning. It feels correct that you’re spending your last few hours on some of the most beautiful soil on earth watching the sunset over the horizon in Malibu despite the cool air of the January day. The ocean glimmers and you can’t help but gasp in awe at what you see, feeling like a proverbial goddess staring at the open land below you.
“This is beautiful,” you mutter and Gojo joins your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He has a blanket and spare jacket tucked under the other, something to keep you both warm after the sun fully sets and the air grows colder.
“Almost as pretty as you.”
Rolling your eyes, you swat at his chest and suddenly every piece falls back into place. The past five days have been exactly what he needed to find himself, to return to who he is and who he wants to be, and it thrills him to think for even a moment that he may someday feel completely normal again. It won’t undo the things that have happened but it will help him make sense of them.
“Ouch,” he mutters playfully and you laugh, pulling the blanket out of the crook of his elbow and placing it on the ground below with a flourish and a shake of your hands. You instantly sink to the ground below, crossing your legs and sitting back with your hands bracing you. Satoru follows suit with an easy smile, sunglasses covering his eyes despite his facial injuries now being mostly gone. 
Sighing, you tip your head upward and let the sunlight warm it. 
Things are going to be okay, you tell yourself with an earnestness you couldn’t muster a week ago. This is exactly what you needed.
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, contentedly watching seabirds drift by in the distance, but you sit up and turn to face Gojo, smiling wistfully watching the sunset on his features.
“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”
He hums at your question, nodding emphatically.
“Of course.”
Turning your face back toward the sunset, you recall a moment you have been thinking about since the moment it happened, the night he called you his soulmate. It was in the thick of an emotional evening after a long day, the two of you indulging in some pillow talk before falling asleep. It was so easy for him to say, as if he never assumed anything else could be true. 
“Years ago you told me you’ve always known it was going to be us and I brushed it off as you running your mouth,” Satoru fakes offense at your words but you smile wistfully, shaking your head and looking down toward your crossed thighs, the sun suddenly becoming too bright to keep gazing at. “But it’s not a coincidence it has ended up being us two, is it?”
You feel guilty for leaving out Shoko and Utahime and the other friends and students you have met along the way but he knows better than anyone what you mean. He smiles back and captures your hand in his, your palms pressed together while watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, cold winter waves lapping at the jagged rocks below the cliff you sit on. 
“Add clairvoyance to my list of skills because I called it, didn’t I?” Humor mixed with unwavering honesty, one of the things you love the most about Satoru, peeks through his every word and you feel so full of love it’s hard to do anything but finally stare at him, eyes squinting thanks to the last bright remnants of daylight. “Even back when you thought I was nothing but a pest with freakishly long arms I knew it had to be you.”
Giggling, you think back to those days that were a practical lifetime ago. Time seemed like it was endless, stretching on and on forever in sundrenched days lounging in the courtyard grass at school, and you assumed you had endless amounts of it. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, it’s all the same when you know you have theoretically at least six more decades to live. 
You were reckless with your feelings and even more so with those of others back then, the man next to you a frequent recipient of annoyed eye rolls and scoffs. He knows he deserved them all even if he gives you a hard time about them now, his boyish determination to impress you gradually buffing away your edges until none remained. 
To the uninitiated, it may appear he tamed you, buffed and smoothed you into perfection equal to his own, but anyone who matters knows better. Satoru remade you, as being loved unconditionally does to anyone. He loved you when you were scowling and spitting and swiping, refusing his friendship and certainly his affections, and he loves you now with your palm pressed against his while you gently breathe in brisk ocean air wrapped in his coat.
“Thank you for never giving up on me.”
He pulls you closer, chin resting on top of your head as it always does. No response comes and you don’t need one, content to listen to the soft puffs of air leaving his nostrils that ruffle the top of your hair. Weeks ago, you weren’t certain you’d ever hear them again. Now though, the mix of the roaring waves and his breaths and his heartbeat pounding against your back catch you off guard and you start to cry, a tear trailing down your nose. 
“Don’t do that. No crying.”
Despite the tears, you laugh. It’s impossible to do anything but when he looks down at you with his head cocked, a little mocking pout on his lips. Leaning up, you kiss him gently and he hums into it, thumb reaching to swipe the stray tear off of your cheek. Leaning back from him, you sniffle.
“Just a little? You know how I am.”
He shakes his head. How can he ever deny you anything? You’re his life, his reason, his world. His one.
“Okay, a tear or two for my little crybaby but that’s it.”
Whatever tears were welling up dissipate quickly when you start laughing and it wows you how it seems like everything is truly back to normal. The two of you glancing at one another like lovesick teenagers, the same as you did ten years ago, the same as you will for the rest of your lives.
“You were right, you know. We are soulmates.” 
He grins.
“That’s not something I hear from you often but I’ll take it.”
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DAY 7 - TOKYO, JP
The 9 hours back home felt far longer than the ones passing on the way there but after a blissful week and an easy flight, you are home and you are clean and you are comfortable in your own bed.
Spread across the mattress in nothing but a towel, you listen to Satoru hum from the adjoining bathroom while he brushes his teeth, running water mingling with a song that kept playing on the radio during your trip that has been stuck in his head for four days. Giggling, you wonder if he knows you can hear him or if he’s truly in his own little world.
“Turn the water off, it’s wasteful!”
You playfully shout into the bathroom and you hear the water cease but the humming continues. He’s well aware that you’re listening and it’s glorious to see even more of him come home - his happiness returning and stabilizing over the last few days. You worried at the beginning of your trip things would never be the same and they won’t, of course, the losses you’ve both suffered more than any one person should have to, but they will feel good again and already do.
Speaking of feeling good, your husband (who is very insistent that you call him this despite no legal documentation of your marriage existing) saunters into the room with a towel low slung on his hips and you can’t help but let your eyes roam over every part of him. His arms are no longer bruised and scuffed, back to their defined and pristine glory. The face you know every contour of is back to normal as well, nary a trace of anything happening in the first place, but curiously - he isn’t devoting any energy to heal the scars across his torso. Small silvery slashes and the big one where Sukuna split him into two remain visible.
Your mouth waters watching him dry the ends of his hair with a towel and it’s no longer satisfying to merely look, you need to feel; to touch every piece of him to ensure he’s still here despite having done it many times over the last several days. Every touch will be like this for the rest of your life, you think, making sure he’s whole and real and yours.
“Come here,” you nod and tilt your head, flipping from your back onto your stomach and swinging your legs in the air behind you. Gojo hums, raising his eyebrows and sliding onto the bed next to you, leaning onto his side and propping his head up with a hand.
“What can I do for you?”
You giggle almost girlishly, fluttering your lashes for no particular reason other than to let him know that he still has the ability to fluster you a decade together later. Tentatively, you reach toward him and trace your finger over the scar through the middle of his torso, the flesh smooth and pearlescent.
“Keeping that one?”
He shrugs, looking down to see your single finger become an entire palm pressed against his abdomen, your fingers tracing small paths across his abs and chest. The muscles beneath your hand tense with each touch and you pull yourself to your knees, crawling across the bed to kneel beside him.
“Maybe I’ll get rid of it eventually. I have the choice, you know?”
That he does and you nod, understanding. Your hand continues to travel over his chest, smoothing over each of his pecs and your core flutters excitedly when your hand travels from his upper torso to the lower portion, fingers sliding beneath the knot of his towel. 
He looks over your body, the way that your tits are pressed together and spilling over the towel secured over them, eyes trailing from your cleavage to your shoulder where a jagged and angry scar of your own sits. It’s from an attempt to dismember you in Shibuya, to cleave your arm straight from your shoulder, yet you don’t let the fact that it’s there bother you a bit. 
Satoru’s cock starts to harden under his towel merely looking at you and you smile watching it come to life beneath the cotton covering it, pushing him backward and flat onto his back so that you can straddle him. Discarding your towel, you drop it on the floor next to the bed and lean over him, chests pressed together while your knees rest on either side of his hips. 
“Hello there,” he teases and you laugh, leaning down to kiss him and bracing your forearms on either side of his head. There is no time wasted on gentle kisses, opting instead for the type that sear as you pant into his mouth and feel his bulge pressed against your bare cunt. You grind against him, the friction from the towel over his cock making you whimper, and one of his hands finds your hip to hold you steady while you make yourself feel good. 
“You like that, baby?”
Humming affirmatively to his question, you drag yourself across his covered length for only a moment more and choose instead to sit up, giving him a full view of all of you. This is a sight he has been blessed with more times than he could begin to count but every time it feels like a gift, your breasts swaying as you steady yourself. His hand slides from your hip to your waist and even higher, thumb and index finger pinching your nipple and making you tilt your head back and moan.
“To think I almost never saw this again,” he mutters to himself but you hear it, leaning forward enough that your face hovers above his. You kiss the side of his jaw and he groans, cock so hard the towel has shortened by several inches while it fights to sit against his stomach as gravity intends for it to.
Kissing further down his jaw and his neck, you rest your face in the crook of his neck for a moment and sigh dreamily. You're already soaked, ready to slip him inside of you at any moment.
“To think I never saw this again,” you repeat back to him and sit up, reaching behind you to unknot his towel and push it off of his hips, looking over your shoulder and groaning at his pretty pink tip resting against his belly, glossy with precum. You look down at him with a slight pout, leaning in to kiss him while running your hands over every inch of his body that you can.
“Look at you, Satoru. You’re so beautiful.”
He’s no stranger to your compliments but he flusters a bit anyway, chest turning pink as his face heats up. His white lashes flutter as he looks down at you, your mouth pressing kisses into his neck and warm chest. You scrape your teeth over his nipples and it makes him whine, bucking his hips and pressing his heavy cock against your pussy.
"Fuck baby," he mutters, hissing when you press your hips down against him, the wetness seeping from you coating your lips and his shaft in return, your hips gliding easily over him. Your mouth remains occupied, pressing kisses lower down his abdomen and over the scars he hasn't yet healed. It's your responsibility to remind him that every single piece of him is as lovable and stunning as ever and you take it seriously.
"I need you."
The rasp in his words makes you smile and you nod, ceasing your kissing and straightening your spine so that you can press your tits against his chest again. There is zero space between your bodies, just how you prefer it. He reaches for his cock and groans, wrapping his fingers around the base, abandoning it to brush his fingers over your wet cunt.
"All that for me," he marvels, two digits sinking into you with ease and you arch your back slightly, letting him spread you open while grinding your hips down against his pelvis, the direct contact of his body on your clit sending sparks through you.
"Just for you, handsome," you smirk against his neck and he crooks his fingers inside of you, brushing the spot he knows drives you wild. You moan and he pulls his fingers out of you, your cunt clenching in protest only for him to immediately replace them with the girth of his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him.
"Feels so good," you whisper and he hums, hands coming to your hips to keep them steady while he thrusts upward into you slowly, sinking himself to the base methodically, shallow thrusts pulling him nearly out of you.
He's greedy though, undeniably addicted to the way you make him feel, and keeps enough of himself inside of you that you are unable to even begin to miss the way he feels. Your walls clench around him, keeping him secured inside and your hips grind lazily despite his grip on them.
The pleasure is mind numbing but you keep yourself alert, moaning softly while he throbs inside of you. More lazy thrusts met with slow and passionate grinding make you moan on unison, lips finding each other. Moaning into each others mouths, occasionally brushing tongues and kissing, you're overwhelmed with nothing but pure love knowing you have this to look forward to forever.
Forever sounds like a long time but you can't think of any better way to spend it than with your Satoru.
"You gonna cum baby?"
He asks and you nod, your walls gripping him tightly. His thrusts speed up, the sound of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The mind is a powerful tool and despite this being quite possibly the least active sex the two of you have ever had, you're so in love with him your body does what it does naturally and that's cum around his cock, clenching and pulsing to let him know how much all of you loves all of him.
"I love you," you babble against his mouth and he chuckles. "I know baby, I know."
Your hips still and you let him hold you in place, his back arched as he thrusts fully in and out of you, his own release slowly coming over him. His eyes flutter shut and he stays buried inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you and seeping out around the base of him, dripping down onto the towel below him.
You don't say a word, sinking into his chest while he softens inside of you. Talking feels unnecessary when your body itself says so much but the big mouth is back to normal so the blissful silence doesn't last for long.
"I love you too, by the way."
At least he's being sweet.
Giggling, you kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, clinging to him while he moves from your mouth to press kisses into your hairline.
"So," he starts and you look up, hovering off of his chest enough to look him in his eyes. "When are we telling everyone that we're married?"
"Let's make it legal first, yeah?"
He pouts but it is replaced quickly with a wry smile and you sink back down to rest against him, cheek pressed into his collarbone. The news surely won't come as a surprise to anyone but you want to make sure it's set in stone before letting everyone know.
"Let's go first thing in the morning."
His eagerness makes you laugh but you acquiesce, knowing there's no excuse to wait. You spent enough time fighting off the inevitable that for once, you're glad to just sit back and enjoy the ride, especially when you're enjoying it by Satoru's side.
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maddyguru · 3 months
Text
Tw. Dark content, incest, mentioned murder, geto and reader are 18+, somno, non con, loss of virginity, MINORS AND ANTIS DO NOT INTERACT
Geto Suguru spots his darling sister sleeping in her bed after the abomination he caused to their family. He knew there's no holding back, and what must be done needs to be done. He walked closer to your sleeping figure, and slowly a smile was on his face.
There's fate worse than death for a woman such as yourself.
He puts you into a deeper sleep with his special curses, and without thinking too much, started kissing the back of your neck, down your collarbone, and later on he starts ripping away your pyjamas. There's nothing more to hide; you are finally bare in front of your own older brother.
He starts wetting his cock, spitting on your pussy and breaching your hymen, to which you cried pit in your sleep- unable to wake up. He paused for a moment and laughed when it was clear as day that you're a virgin. Ruined by him.
The help of the blood allows him to drill deeper into your cervix, with your cries resonating in the room as if you were never asleep in the first place. He starts fucking you deeper, eager to leave you with traumas and physical pain. No doubt once you've woken up.
Aa he finished inside you with a final and deep thrust, he pulls out and cleaned himself, walking away from the scene. He can only imagine what you would look like tomorrow when you realised, you were raped in your sleep by him.
So the next day you awoke, pain on your lower belly and inner thighs and blood caked up, you saw a piece of paper on your bedside table; your brother confessed to you that he hated you and your family, and that he had taken your virginity the night before- raping you.
You sit there crying, with pain all over your body and heart.
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gxbbyhoneybadger · 1 year
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?
Leads to smut (0u0")
Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!
This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹
A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.
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Mission XXXIV-XXXV
Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader
Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.
Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.
Part 2
Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut
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Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.
Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.
His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.
She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.
". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.
He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.
Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.
She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.
She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.
He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.
". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.
Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"
Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.
After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.
"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.
Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.
~Three Days Later~
He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.
His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.
But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.
But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.
Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.
~Y/n pov~
I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.
He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.
He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .
He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.
But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.
He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?
I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.
"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.
I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.
I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.
I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.
Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.
"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.
"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.
He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.
~~~
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.
He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.
"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.
My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.
But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.
His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.
After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.
"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.
He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.
My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.
My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.
It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.
His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."
Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.
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I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!
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