Tumgik
#it is a horror movie don't argue this
pur-o-uwu · 2 years
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Ghost Ship (2002) Emily Browning as Katie
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dukeofriven · 11 months
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Which TNG Film Is The Worst?
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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lovebugism · 7 months
Note
Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷
ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.
“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.
“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”
“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”
“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.
He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm. 
His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”
His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.
Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”
He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.
“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”
“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.
His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”
“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.
“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”
“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”
The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.
You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.
“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”
“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”
You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”
“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”
“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”
Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.
“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.
You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.
“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.
“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”
You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.
“Oh, god…” you murmur.
Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”
He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands. 
Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.
You blink at both of them, then at Eddie. 
“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”
“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.
“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”
You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers. 
“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.
A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”
“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.
“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”
Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”
“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.
You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”
He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.
Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”
He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.
You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.
“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”
“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”
He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you. 
Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.
“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.
He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention. 
“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”
His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.
“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.
“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them. 
A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”
Across the living room, the door busts open. 
Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint. 
Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door. 
Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.
Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.
Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.
Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.
“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Make yourselves at home.”
Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.
“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”
She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.
The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”
You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.
As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.
“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.
You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.
“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”
“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.
“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”
“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.
“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”
You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 
He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.
“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.
Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them. 
“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”
Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.
Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”
“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.
Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”
You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.
“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed. 
He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.
“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet. 
Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor. 
“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.
Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.
“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne. 
“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”
Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”
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flanaganfilm · 7 months
Note
Hi, I'm a big fan of your work. Sorry if this is a dumb question, why kill the kitties? I notice it a lot in horror in general, and it completely takes me out of the story and just makes me feel bad for the cat. I feel like I'm missing something.
Not a dumb question at all - and I knew I'd be getting some of this the moment we decided to include Poe's The Black Cat in TFOTHOU. The comments sections of the world are full of accusations that I hate cats and/or hands, and - well - neither is true. I've admittedly gotten a little flippant with my humor in the past when people have brought this up. My knee-jerk reaction is always to say something along the lines of "well, Websters defines 'horror' as..." But honestly, as far as I'm concerned, it's just not a thing.
A brief history of cats in my work:
HUSH - Maddie's beloved cat, "Bitch," escapes the danger of a home invader completely unharmed and is alive and well at the end of the movie. The last shot of the movie is Maddie lovingly petting the cat on the porch.
THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE - Yes, a malnourished stray kitten dies within Hill House, only to be horrifically reanimated. This was done to show the horrors of Hill House, serve as a warning to the family, and foreshadow the deaths of several human beings (who would meet more horrible fates) later. Hill House is an evil place, and it killed and collected all sorts of living things... there are dead humans aplenty, and also phantom dogs, which Stephen and the kids hear several times and see in episode six. I'd argue that Hill House is an equal-opportunity horror show.
DOCTOR SLEEP - Azzie the cat is a great friend to Dan Torrance. Azzie also has a "shine" of her own, and can sense when patients at the hospice are going to die, and goes into their rooms to comfort them. Azzie is never once in any danger throughout the film and, we presume, lives a long and happy life.
MIDNIGHT MASS - All of the residents of Crockett Island, which include 157 people, a huge population of stray cats, and at least one particularly sweet dog, do not fare so well in this show. But nothing against the cats - everybody dies. The arrival of a certain evil creature marks doom for literally every living thing on the island (except for two people). And yep, it started with the cats, because they were plentiful and would not alert anyone to its presence. We see its lair full of dead rats, birds, and raccoons as well, all eaten while the creature was in hiding.
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER - we adapted The Black Cat, written by Edgar Allan Poe. If you're familiar with the Poe story, you know that it involves the horrible death of a cat, which then seems to get revenge from beyond the grave. This is Edgar Allan Poe's story - we did not write it. HOWEVER, we decided to make a huge change to Poe's story. At the end of our retelling, we reveal that Pluto the cat is alive and well (and still wearing the Gucci collar), and that the supposed violence against the cat existed entirely in the person's mind. Pluto 2 - the terrifying, supernatural replacement that stalked Leo - is not real either. It is just Verna, taking another form (hence the injury to VERNA'S eye). So in this show, not a single animal is harmed AT ALL. We did that on purpose. We decided to change Poe's classic story so that the cat lived. We went out of our way to do that. I truly don't have anything against cats. I do tell horror stories... but that's about it! I hope it doesn't make it more difficult to enjoy the story, and thank you for watching.
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popcat69 · 8 months
Text
Incorrect Tmnt quotes
Mikey: What does 'take out' mean? Donnie: Food. Leo: Dating Raph: Murder Y/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.
Donnie: Favourite horror movie?
Mikey: It
Raph: Saw
Leo: Annabelle
Y/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics
Leo: Croissants: dropped
Raph: Road: works ahead
Y/n: BBQ sauce: on my titties
April: Shavacado: fre
Mikey: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead
Donnie:
Donnie: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.
Y/n: Change is inedible.
Donnie: Don't you mean inevitable?
Y/n, spitting out coins: No, I did not.
Mikey: Hey Donnie,
Donnie: Yes?
Mikey: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?
Donnie:
Donnie: Where’s Y/n?
Donnie: April isn’t answering their phone
Y/n: I’ll call
Donnie: Casey and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-
April: Hello?
Y/n: Top 30 reasons why y/n is sorry... Number 5 will surprise you!
Raph: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!!
Mikey: I'm incredibly fast at maths.
Y/n: Alright, what's 30x17?
Mikey: 47
Y/n: That's not even close.
Mikey: But it was fast.
Donnie: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?
Raph: Nope, absolutely not.
Leo: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.
Mikey: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.
Casey: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.
Y/n: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.
*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*
Splinter: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.
Everyone:
Leo: ...I did. I broke it.
Splinter: No. No you didn't. Mikey?
Mikey: Don't look at me. Look at Y/n.
Y/n: What?! I didn't break it.
Mikey: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?
Y/n: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.
Mikey: Suspicious.
Y/n: No, it's not!
Raph: If it matters, probably not, but April was the last one to use it.
April: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!
Raph: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?
April: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Raph!
Leo: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, person A.
Splinter: No! Who broke it!?
Everyone:
Raph: Splinter... Donnie’s been awfully quiet.
Donnie: rEALLY?!
*Everyone starts arguing*
Splinter, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.
Splinter: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.
Splinter:
Splinter: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.
'Can I copy the homework?'
Donnie: I can help you with it!
April: Yeah, sure.
Y/n: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.
Raph: lol nope.
Mikey: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!
Leo: *Read 5:55pm*
Leo: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways I’m bitches
Leo, driving y/n and April: So how was your day?
Y/n: We almost got surprise adopted!
Leo: What?
April: We almost got kidnapped.
Leo: Oh, okay.
Leo: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!
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ashwhowrites · 21 days
Note
Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader, Eds and Reader don't know each other, but Max and Dustin know both Eddie and Reader, and they both think that they would be a great couple so they try to get them to know each other but it never works. But what if Reader goes to the trailer park to take care of Max, or help her with homework but on her way to Max's trailer, Reader falls and Eddie sees it and helps her, after some time, Eddie and Reader start dating and it made Max and Dustin happy but they argue about who made that it happened? (I hope this make sense! I just imagine Max and Dustin seeing how similar Reader and Eddie are in some aspects so they're like, yeah, they would be a great couple, but for some reason, they can't make them like meet each other or even see each other! you can change some things if you think it'll be better!)
I love writing Max as a bestie. This idea is adorable. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting♥︎
Wingman vs Wingwoman
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Max was surprised to find herself being friends with a cheerleader, granted it was forced in the beginning. Max's mom has been on an insane level since everything happened with Billy, so she refuses to let Max be alone. Y/N became Max's babysitter, Max wasn't warmed to the idea at first but now it was more of friends hanging out compared to babysitting.
Y/N was way more chill and interesting than the other cheerleaders, shocking Max. They talked, watched horror movies, shared comic books, and went to skate parks. With all of Y/N's badass interests, Max realized she might not be the only one who would adore her. Max knew she had to get Y/N to meet Eddie.
Dustin fell in love with Y/N the second she walked into the student council. Dustin's mom wanted him to engage in more school activities ( apparently hellfire wasn't real enough. ) But the student council wasn't horrible when Y/N was the president. Dustin was a love-sick puppy when it came to her and he practically was her vice president with how much he did for the club. Or for her. With her leading confidence and how high she held her head, Dustin couldn't help but see a bit of Eddie in her. That's when it snapped in Dustin's head that Eddie would love to meet this girl.
~~~
Max was rushing Y/N to Hellfire with a purpose in mind.
"I'm gonna be late for the student council!" Y/N groaned as Max dragged her arm down the opposite hallway.
"I know! I just need to show you something." Max said, a tiny smirk on her face. Her blue eyes lit up with mischief.
Max cheered as they reached the door, Y/N looked at her confused for two reasons. One, Max was excited about something, and two it was about a door with hellfire written on cardboard.
"What the hell is this?" Y/N asked, Max didn't answer, so she yanked open the door.
Max's smile and mood fell when she didn't see Eddie. Just the same losers she always saw.
"Where is he?" Max demanded, her foot stomped against the glossy floor.
~
"Dustin, dude, we can't be late for this campaign. The rest of the sheep are already set up." Eddie scolded but Dustin didn't listen. Just yanking Eddie down the hall.
"Just one minute!" Dustin groaned. He sighed at the lack of patience Eddie had.
"Where are we even going?" Eddie huffed.
"Tada!" Dustin cheered as he yanked open the wooden door. Eddie peeked in over Dustin's head and felt confused.
"Tada? It's a group of nerds talking about the school."
"It's called the student council, and she's not here!" Dustin growled. Where the hell was she?
~~~
Max and Dustin had no idea they were trying to get Y/N and Eddie to see each other. And they had no idea they were backfiring each other's plans.
"No! I need Eddie, I've been trying to get him to meet this girl for weeks!" Max snapped at Dustin, her icy blue eyes glaring straight at him.
Dustin felt himself shivering in fear but tried to stay confident.
"I don't care. I've got a way better girl for Eddie to meet."
"Mine's better, just watch." Max scoffed as she raced off on her skateboard.
"What did red want?" Eddie asked as he walked to his van.
"No clue. But look, I need you to drop me off at school early tomorrow, student council meeting." Dustin lied, Eddie huffed but agreed as he started the engine.
~
"Max, what's up? Dustin said he needed me this morning." Y/N asked as Max kept looking up and down the hallways.
"I just need to see something!" Max said as she looked into the parking lot. She saw Eddie's van but she couldn't find him at all. She checked all the rooms she knew Eddie knew but nothing.
~
"Dude, we've been here for ten minutes, when does this meeting start? We are the only ones here." Eddie sighed. He could have gotten another hour of sleep but this damn kid.
Dustin checked his watch with a pit of anxiety in his stomach. Y/N said she'd be here and she is nowhere to be seen.
"Whatever. I'm going to have a smoke." Eddie said as he walked out the door.
Not even two minutes later Y/N walked in with a grumpy Max.
"Of fucking course," Dustin said as he shook his head.
~~~
Max and Dustin were slowly wanting to give up. Every plan they had was backfired. Somehow Eddie and Y/N were always at the wrong place at the right time.
Y/N groaned as she walked through the muddy trailer park. She regretted wearing her nice shoes. A huge van came speeding down the road, frightening her into slipping in the mud.
She groaned as she landed on her ass. Now her clothes were as muddy as her shoes.
The van slammed on their breaks and a boy came running out.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." The boy apologized, he kneeled next to her as he softly helped her stand up.
She went to scream in his face but once she took in his face, she was silent. He was the most gorgeous boy she's ever seen. His soft skin, bone structure, nice jaw, and flowing brown curls rested on his shoulders.
"Oh, that's alright." She shrugged off with a smile. She was sure she'd have fallen for him the same way if he still wasn't holding her up by the waist.
Eddie didn't hear a word she said. Too amazed at how beautiful the girl was. He didn't even realize he was still touching her until she shifted.
"Shit sorry." He apologized again as he removed his hands. He took in her muddy clothes.
"This will sound so creepy, but can I drive you to my trailer to get you new clothes? I feel awful." Eddie smiled as she laughed.
"It is super creepy, but I also don't want to babysit in these clothes." So she agreed and they rode off to his trailer. Only to connect the dots that Max was right across the way.
"Here! It's just an old shirt and some sweatpants." Eddie said as he handed Y/N the clothes.
"Do you want me to drive you to the trailer you need?" Eddie asked as they stood at his front door.
"It's actually just right there so I can walk. Thank you, what was your name?" She asked.
"Eddie Munson, and you?" He asked as he held out his hand.
~
Max eyed Y/N as she walked in covered in mud and clothes in her hand.
"What happened to you?" Max asked as she got off the couch.
"Slipped in mud, but I got new clothes so gonna change!" Y/N said she walked into the bathroom, with a smile on her face.
~~~
A month passed and Max was preparing to give up. No matter what she did, she never got Eddie and Y/N in the same room.
"Why can't you come tonight again?" Max asked, Y/N walked beside her down the hallway.
"I've got a date, but your mom is staying home," Y/N explained.
"Where is the date? I've got a guy for you and I bet he's way better than whatever loser you picked yourself."
"Rude, he is not a loser. I appreciate in a weird way that you want to set me up, but I'm fine. We are going to the movies."
~
"Dustin, I can't! I'm going to the movies for a date." Eddie sighed as he searched for an outfit to wear.
"Waste of time, bro. I've got the perfect girl for you. Just cancel, then come be my wingman at the diner then I'll set you guys up!" Dustin argued.
"First, I am way too old to be your wingman. It's creepy. And second, this girl is hot, I'm not ditching."
"Come on dude! You are my only ride and my mom said I needed a babysitter. Steve is working so please?"
~
"She's here, see ya," Dustin said as he ran to an empty booth with his date.
Eddie picked a seat where he could see the back of Dustin's head.
He smiled when Y/N took the seat across from him, blocking Dustin.
They dived into a conversation and the time flew by in seconds.
~
Dustin said goodbye to his date and walked over to Eddie, he noticed Eddie was alone.
"Stood up?" Dustin mocked as he pointed to the empty seat.
"Bathroom, now beat it," Eddie said, but Dustin sat down instead.
"I've got nowhere to go, you are my ride." Dustin shrugged, grabbing a fry from the plate in the middle of the table. "Plus, my girl would be so much better for you."
~
Max walked into the diner, and her mom drove her to pick up dinner. She waited near the counter as she waited. She gasped when Y/N walked out of the bathroom.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had a date?" Max asked, her arms crossed.
"I do! We changed it to her because he had to babysit." Y/N explained.
"Babysit? Can't get a real job?" Max mocked and rolled her eyes.
"Watch it. I'm a babysitter." Y/N declared as she glared at the younger girl.
"Is he still here? I want to meet him so I can prove my guy is better."
Y/N sighed but agreed, walking Max to the table.
"Dustin?"
"Y/N?"
Eddie looked between them confused, "you two know each other?"
"How the hell do you know her?" Dustin spazzed as he looked at Eddie with huge eyes.
"EDDIE IS THE GUY!" Max squealed, and Y/N was confused about her showing a positive emotion.
"What is going on?" Eddie and Y/N asked at the same time.
~
After Dustin and Max explained their sides, they left the couple alone. Dustin walked Max out to her car, killing time until Eddie was ready to leave.
"I so did that." Dustin bragged, he nodded in improvement as Eddie slid his arm around Y/N as they walked out.
"They didn't even know you were trying to set them up, plus she met him because of me!" Max argued
"No, she did not!" Dustin fought back.
"Yes huh!"
"No huh!"
~
"It's kinda cute they wanted us together so much," Y/N said, walking out of the diner.
"I'm surprised Dustin thought I was in your league." Eddie chuckled, his arm still over her shoulder.
"I'm surprised you'd even like a cheerleader," Y/N replied.
"When they look like you? Yeah, I like the cheerleader." Eddie teased, but his heart raced as she laughed and swatted at his chest.
He might have to give Dustin a praise for this.
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tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
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literaila · 2 months
Text
hey
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you're both drunk and (not) in love
warnings: alcohol mentions, angst if you're me, fluff, nonsensical conversation
a/n: i will be messing with this later but if i have to think about it for any longer i'll cry (also listen to be (acoustic) because i said so)
last part | next part
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*
year four.
the house is almost silent, tonight. 
usually, at close to midnight, it's quiet. the house will buzz as the furnace works, the house settling itself into the earth, but there's none of the laughter that echoes throughout the hallways like it does during the day. no names being yelled across a threshold, much too loud for the size of the house itself. 
the kids are always in bed this late, and usually you and satoru are too--besides the nights where you stay up talking or arguing, speaking with soft voices for so long that your throat is sore by morning.
those are the nights when you fall asleep on the couch together, or you migrate to one of your rooms, speaking nothing of the broken rules in your relationship. 
satoru's bed is a lot more comfy than yours, anyway. his blankets are heavier and his pillows are fluffier. 
or that's what you usually think to yourself in the morning when you wake up there once again. it's an excuse, sure, but at least it's more reasonable than reality. 
but tonight is quiet because the kids aren't home. and it's almost midnight, and the two of you are just walking in through the door. 
and, admittedly, you're a little bit drunk. 
"don't--" you say, laughing languidly, tripping over satoru's legs as he pushes the door open. it took him five tries to unlock it, but you don't say anything, because everything looks a bit uneven. "don't forget to shut it all the way."
satoru ignores you. "why are all of the lights off?" 
you step over the tiny shoes left by your front door, almost tripping on air, and flick on the lights. you squint at the brightness, groaning.
but the lights do nothing to ease the eerieness of the hallway. 
you can't remember the last time you came home this late. the last time you had a night without the kids. 
it's probably why the two of you went a little overboard at the bar. but it's hard to keep up with shoko anyway, so it's not really your fault. 
satoru hiccups. "why don't we have night vision?" 
"humans suck," you answer, trying to kneel to take off your shoes, which are pinching at your feet. 
"true," he says, kicking his own sneakers against the wall. his jacket is already off, and on a normal night you would chastise him for not hanging it up, but at the moment you've kind of forgotten about the coat rack. 
and how to think properly. 
"did you--" you shake your head, looking at satoru, who seems to be upside down. "did you lock the door?" 
"of course i did, i'm not a heathen." 
but you see him rattle the doorknob, clumsily, and that must satisfy you because you walk out of the hallway, into the living room, which is just as dark as the rest of the house. 
it's strange that no one else is home. strange that there's no one to tuck in, no room to peek your head in before you pass out. 
"how late is it?" you ask satoru, who's following so closely behind you that you almost fall back into him when you stop. 
"dunno." 
"is there someone here? i feel like i'm in a horror movie," you turn to satoru, who's squinting around like he'll be able to see something in the dark room. "where are your glasses?" 
"dunno," he says, with a grin. and then hiccups again. 
you roll your eyes, but grab his hand as you pull him along the house, trailing to one of your rooms--you can't remember which--and forcing yourself to take off your socks before you climb into bed. 
it's a good thing that both of the kids are gone because neither of you are exactly quiet as you walk through the house. satoru is tripping every step, and you're holding onto all of the walls trying not to do the same. 
seriously, neither of you ever get out. 
and, in the blink of an eye, you're in someone's bed--hopefully yours--nuzzling yourself under the blankets. your head is swirling, and you can't see anything, but satoru is there, you think, because you can feel him. 
like a buzz on your skin as his hand trails up your arm, and he pulls you into him, probably. it's all fuzzy. and you don't care what he's doing anyway--you trust him, even drunk. 
"i'm never drinking again," you mumble as you turn, wiping something off of your face.
satoru laughs. his breath on the side of your cheek makes you blink. "you said that last time, i think." 
"i was right." 
"lightweight," he teases like he isn't slurring the word. 
he's so very close, and yet, you curl your leg around his, trying to get yourself even closer. 
satoru doesn't complain as you move, as fast a dream, and then you're lying on top of him. 
maybe it's not his bed. maybe he's the comfortable one. 
you blink hazily at his smile and press a chaste kiss on his jaw like it's an appropriate thing to do. 
you can't think of anything to say, so you just hum into his skin as you settle in. you kinda want to lick him.
"why're you so cold?" he asks you, rubbing your arms. 
you don't respond. 
being with him is like walking on top of everything else. walking on nothing at all, actually. 
his hands wrap around your waist, secure and sure, like he's never hesitated a day in his life. and you think, just for a moment, that you've never been warm like this.
that maybe you've been living in a tundra. maybe that feeling in your core has been frozen for so long, and satoru is the only thing warm enough to defrost it. 
but it takes a long time. that hurt, that fear eased in the edges of your soul cannot be cleared out with a single burst of flame. 
though satoru is not one single thing. 
but, nonetheless, his hands on you, holding you to him, are enough for now. 
his eyes--with nothing to stop them from reaching you, like a blindfold or lens--have always been far more than you wanted. 
but he's looking at you, so you can't think about any of it.
you want to tell him something, but you’re not sure what. there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out. but it stays hidden, a secret you’re keeping from even yourself.
his eyes are on yours, focused and sure, pupils blown.
you kind of want to laugh at him, because inhibitions make you giddy. and satoru has always been something that excites you. 
his face echoes with the memories of two children, two foolish kids who never understood just how good they had it. 
have it. 
"do you think i'm strong?" satoru asks you, still slurring, and he's joking. he's been quiet for a while, so you don't know where this is coming from. on a normal night, you'd probably be concerned about the question. 
but tonight you just giggle against him, tracing the slope of his eyebrow, which makes his face twitch. 
with your other hand, you pretend to feel around his arm like you'll find anything but muscle. "hmm," you pinch his bicep, giddy when he flinches from your touch. "i guess. might wanna hit the gym, though." 
you think you might die from just the way he's looking at you. 
"you're a bad liar," satoru grins at you. he's breathing heavily through his mouth like you've exhausted him. 
"so are you," you tell him. 
"says who?" he asks, and he's lying to you right now. 
"me. remember when you tried to convince me that you painted that portrait in the hallway?"  
"i did," satoru swears, but he shakes his head as he says it, looking away. 
a bit of reprieve for you, but you still tilt his chin back. you want his eyes.
"see? bad liar." 
"i get it from you." 
you grin at him, not sure what it means. 
"if you died, would you come back to haunt me?" satoru asks you, suddenly. like the question is significant, in some way. 
"if i die you'll already be a ghost," you say to him, "because you're dying first." 
"no, i'm not." 
"do you want me to die?" 
he pretends to think about it. "well, no, i guess. but if you did, would you haunt me?" 
"definitely. i'd throw things around the house for you to clean up. and mess with your conditioners." 
"so you're an evil ghost." 
"just a bit of karma for letting me die." 
"i'd avenge you," satoru argues. 
"i don't want to be avenged," you roll your eyes. "just keep me alive."
"oh, yeah. guess i could do that." 
"you guess?" 
"i mean... it's a lot of work. i'll have to look at my schedule." 
"next time i go on a mission i'm going to come back hurt just to see you freak out. maybe i'll lose a limb. or some brain damage? which is worse?" 
satoru, who squirms around a paper cut, gives you a plagued look. "i'm going to tell yaga about the threats you're making." 
"like he'd believe you." 
"i'll lock you in the basement. you'll never go on another mission again. there, i solved our problem. you never leave the house and i don't have to worry about keeping you alive." 
"we don't have a basement." 
"oh. right," he frowns. then he blinks, and the smile is back. 
"also, i keep you alive every day. you can't return the favor?” you sigh. “i'm being exploited." 
he raises a brow. 
"who do you think hides all of the sweets?" you ask him. "the kids aren't eating all of those." 
"where'd you put my pocky?" 
"you'll never know." 
"i'll torture you for information. i know where you're ticklish." 
you squirm away from his seeking hands, but don't move. you grasp one, stopping him from touching any further than your side. "i'm not scared of the man who won't even remove his hair from the drain after he showers." 
satoru makes a face. "but it's all slimy and weird." 
"it's your hair! stop making megumi do it." 
"i feed him. he can help out." 
you have to keep yourself from giggling again, like a foolish girl who’s in love with her best friend.
you roll your eyes and fall flat against him, letting go of his hand, even though it's very soft, and you relax on his chest. there's a moment where satoru settles into this--into you--and then his hands begin to roam the expanse of your back.
"if i was a ghost," satoru whispers, "i would lay on top of you in the morning so you couldn't get out of bed." 
"like a sleep paralysis demon?" 
"yup." 
"dont you already do that?" 
he licks his lips. "it'd be scarier if i was invisible." 
"can ghosts touch people? i don't think they're tactile." 
"i'm not like a normal ghost." 
"not like normal anything." 
satoru nudges his nose against your forehead in retaliation, but he doesn't argue. it's not like he can, anyway. 
"hey," you whisper, after a moment. you're looking up at him, admiring the slopes and concaves of his face at this angle. his eyes almost make his face glow, his own personal light. 
"hey." 
"do you think the kids are awake right now?" 
"no," satoru sighs. "nanami probably put them to bed at six. after feeding them straight broccoli." 
"i told him their routine..." you mumble. "i think." 
"d'ya think megumi'll haunt us?" 
"he'll never die," you tell him, "just out of spite." 
"true." 
"you can't haunt him, okay?" you say, very seriously, giving him a flat look, which he laughs at. "when you die he deserves some peace." 
"no promises." 
you poke his chest but have no answer. actually... you're not even really sure what you're talking about. or that it matters. 
there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out.
but satoru is still warm. he smells like bitter alcohol and bubblegum. 
"hey," you whisper, again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. you’re not sure what you’re doing.
he is blurry this close, but you can still see all of him. you'd know his face if you went blind, behind a mask. you could black out--you probably will--and he'd still be there. 
"hey," he murmurs back. his voice is like a punch to the throat. but his smile is effortless.
"you're pretty," you whisper, as you think it. "and sweaty." 
satoru's looking down at you, and his smile stays the same. his breath is on your face, sugary sweet. "so are you." 
"i know." 
satoru laughs, his knuckles running across your cheekbone. it almost makes you shiver. "pretty," he whispers like it's a joke. 
"why're your eyes so blue?" 
"wavelengths, or something. didn't you pay attention in school?" 
you laugh, shaking your head at him. it's funnier than it should be. 
"don't you like my eyes?" he asks, suddenly pouting. 
"yeah. they're like a nightlight. 's never dark." 
his eyes are probably your favorite thing in the world, you don't say, 'cause you can't think. his eyes are unimaginable, and so close to you.
satoru swallows, shaking his head. "that's all i am to you?" 
"and a teddy bear. you're comfy." 
satoru hiccups, but holds you closer, smiling against your forehead. "good." 
there's a couple of minutes where the two of you bask in the silence. the quiet is a nice break from it all. and you're both so drunk that the usual fears can't seem to make their way in. 
not the way they usually doing, plaguing your body. fear is just something that is, right now. nothing to be afraid of.
but, even so, you've never felt so safe. or so sleepy.
and this time, it's satoru who whispers, "hey." 
"hey," you say, back. you smile at him. his fingers trace circles on your back. or maybe he's writing something. you can't tell. 
it feels nice, though. 
"i like you," he says. and you're not sure if he means in general, or here, in his bed with him. maybe it's a question. 
it doesn't matter. 
"i like you too. hey?" 
satoru just hums this time. you can tell that he's about to fall asleep, because his eyelashes flutter shut, and his breathing has begun to even out. 
"satoru," you say, again, because you want to see his eyes just one more time before you fall asleep on top of him. 
you have to say something. it could be the alcohol, but it might be just you.
"yeah?" 
"i think i'm in love with you," you say, and you mean it but it's not what you meant to say. but you're half-asleep, about to drool on his chest, so you can't even contemplate the words. 
is it drunk and in love? or drunk on love? 
you can't remember. 
you could probably kiss him right now. he’s close enough, and you’ve always wanted to. but, even this version of you knows that it would be a bad idea. so you don’t. and you don’t think about what you’ve just admitted.
satoru's smile is vicious, as it begins to blur. you can feel his heart beating against your fingertips. "yeah?" he whispers, and you're not sure why he sounds breathless.
you nod against him. 
"me too," he murmurs, and you can't think about what it means. he whispers something else that you don't hear.
because the two of you fall asleep just then, and the words don't really mean anything. 
just, you know, everything. 
*
in the morning, your head pounds. 
one of you left the blinds open last night, so the sun wakes you up, shining through the trees outside. your mouth is dry, and your throat burns, like you swallowed knives. 
and you're still on top of satoru, and you remember exactly how you got there. 
he's groaning when you begin to move, holding you closer. and this isn't all that unusual. 
but when he opens his eyes, there's a daze in them. some secret he's thinking about as he looks at you. 
and you both forget to mention that you remember the night before. and everything that was said. 
you probably shouldn't talk about it with a hangover, anyway. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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naryrising · 1 year
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So you like imaginary fandoms...
With the recent success of Goncharov, I thought I'd make a post to mention some of the previous times this has happened in fandom, and a brief explanation and some links on how you can find works for them. I don't claim that this is a comprehensive list, it's just ones that came to me off the top of my head based on several decades of fandom involvement.
Ghost Soup Infidel Blue. Originates from the annual Yuletide exchange, specifically a post by liviapenn in 2007 that used it as a default fandom to help explain how to write 'dear author' letters. The relevant quote (meant to illustrate the kind of letter that would be too specific) was "'Bad: "I would like a Ghost Soup story where Luke makes out with Angela's clone and Angela gets mad and seduces Moira just to make Luke mad, and then Ryan and Luke duel to the death with their lightsabers and it ends up in an Angela/Angela's clone/Moira threesome. And Ryan feels really bad and flies off to Mars forever."" Consensus is that it is a sprawling space opera anime series, something like Gundam or Macross, with many sub-parts and spin-offs. Part of the dynamic of Ghost Soup 'fandom' is people arguing in the notes and comments about the continuity or quality of these various spinoffs (e.g. Purple is reputed to be bad, but some people will staunchly defend it just to be contrary.) Deliberate wank and badfic is part of the humour. You can read the Fanlore post about Ghost Soup here and find works for it and its related fandoms here
Winterblumensaat. Again, this comes out of Yuletide, specifically a nomination in 2021 for what was strongly suspected to be a nonexistent German book. The nominator's sister found it in a flea market! It very definitely was real! They couldn't provide any evidence or a photo of the book, but they promise it was definitely a real book! Despite being rejected from Yuletide nominations as not having any basis in reality, it has nevertheless had some fics written for it. The AO3 tag is merged into Original Work, so you can find them by searching in Original Work for Winterblumensaat (results here). It seems to be a moody, dark mid-century European novel, with characters named Florientina, Mailia, Schnail, and Markus. A related non-existent fandom with the same origin story is Nur die Sonne - Maria Moßer, but this has only attracted one work so far (a crossover with Winterblumensaat).
Cordelia (Movie Poster). In 2020 a movie poster for the movie Cordelia came out that inspired fandom in ways probably not intended by the movie's creators. While the actual movie Cordelia is a contemporary horror/thriller, the poster gave people the impression that it might be about Victorian femdom with pegging. Needless to say, they were disappointed by whatever was in the actual film, and made up fic based on what they thought the poster was about instead. Currently ALL works in the Cordelia (2020) tag on AO3 are actually about the poster and not the movie.
Invisible Ficathon. In 2014 an exchange called Invisible Ficathon ran, which was based around "stories that never were". Nominated "canons" had to be nonexistent fictional works referenced in another work. Examples given included "The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes - Joan Watson" (from Elementary), "The Itchy and Scratchy Show" (from The Simpsons), the books in Lucien's library in The Sandman that only exist in dreams, and so on. The collections on AO3 contain 71 works for nonexistent fandoms. Alas that this exchange only ran once, because it was a fun concept. I think with the renewed interest in Goncharov, it would be ripe for revival.
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roanniom · 2 years
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being bold and deciding to make the first move by kissing his rings before you push his hand up your skirt 🤭
Distracted
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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You're a friend of Robin's whose been in his world peripherally for a while. Like you've gone to the same parties and you've hung out at Family Video and seen him when he brought the teens in to see Steve after Hellfire sessions. You've only hung out in groups and your conversations, though extremely flirty, have been pretty surface level.
But you've got a thing for the quirky metalhead. Not only is he a fucking babe, but he also seems genuinely sweet and is very funny. When you bring this up to Robin, however, you aren't prepared for how she lights up, telling you that Eddie's been asking about you, too. Ever the matchmaker, Robin pushes you into a plot that makes it so that you and Eddie end up alone at his place on a Saturday night (initial group plans are bailed on last minute by all the teens who were threatened within an inch of their life not to actually show up).
Eddie seems unfazed by this turn of events and takes it in stride, cracking open a six pack for the two of you to share and throwing on a horror movie.
"If you want to bail, too, that's cool," he lets you know, even as you plop down beside him on the couch, beer in hand. He's got a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I'm sure hanging out alone with the town freak wasn't exactly on your agenda this week."
"Don't presume to know my agenda, Munson," you tsk, feigning a frown that is already curling around the edges into the smile you can't suppress. "You know how type A I am. I won't have you questioning my to-do list."
You apply the innuendo lightly, but the way his eyebrow quirks lets you know that it lands as you'd intended. Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth while appraising you.
"I wouldn't dare get in the way of your efficiency, sweetheart." There's a dare in his eyes, but you lean back against the couch and watch him over the top of your bottle as you take a sip. You've got time.
As the night goes on, the two of you drink and laugh and tease one another. One movie ends and he puts on the sequel immediately. Some slasher where kids are running around screaming in the woods. The two of you discuss what your own strategy would be if you found yourselves in a similar situation. At this point, you're feeling loose and floaty - combination of the alcohol and the sound of Eddie's laughter. It's got bubbles fizzing in your bloodstream. Your bodies have shifted closer on the couch as time has gone on, and as he emphatically describes something, his hand comes down to press onto your knee. Seemingly just as a matter of emphasis and to ground your attention in his point, but you notice that his hand doesn't lift up when he finishes his monologue.
A thrill of possessive pleasure runs through your body at the realization.
"You know, you'd probably die somewhere around the halfway point of the movie," you challenge suddenly and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"I'm sorry, princess, but what?!"
"You know because you're all..." you gesture to his body. The denim vest he's still wearing over his band tee even though he's relaxing at home. The tattoos. The heavy rings on the hand that's still resting on your knee. His fingers flex against your skin when you point at them.
"I'm a badass, you mean? What about my badassery makes you think I'm dying at all?"
"The cool guys always die at the midpoint," you argue. "They get distracted having sex with the hot girls and that's when the killer guts them." Exactly as you say this, as if the universe is trying to bolster your argument, a young man on screen is stabbed through the back mid-thrust, falling down bloody upon his shrieking lover. You glance away from the screen and back at Eddie with a satisfied smirk. "Case in point."
"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm cool," Eddie says with a smug smirk. You roll your eyes at him but shift a bit closer.
"I also said you'd die fucking a bimbo."
"No, you said I'd die fucking a hot girl," he corrects, also shifting infinitesimally closer.
"Oh, so you were listening," you tease. Your hand rests on top of his hand on your knee and you start fiddling with his rings.
"Yeah, and I guess that means you should be concerned," he says flippantly, his fingers splaying out on your knee so that yours have more space to move between them. You're now distracted by the attention you're focusing on his hand.
"Why should I be concerned?"
"Because the hot girl getting fucked by the cool guy dies next," he says, nodding his head towards the tv you had all but forgotten about just as a young woman running topless through the woods, her breasts swinging and covered in her dead boyfriend's blood, is cut down by the killer. You both laugh.
"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm hot," you say turning back to him and mimicking his prior comment. His face lights up with a grin.
"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."
The moment feels right. The electricity between the two of you is palpable and you lift his hand up off your knee and towards your lips.
"They only get got, though, because they get distracted," you posit, pressing a kiss to each of Eddie's rings. His eyes are trained on your lips, his own parted to let his suddenly shallow breathing pass through. "Do you think you could keep from getting distracted?"
"Uh...yeah," Eddie says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah I'm sure I could stay focused. Vigilant."
"Oh yeah?" you ask, smiling at how he's already so distracted. Suddenly you're lowering his hand and bringing it to the top of your thigh, right at the hem of your skirt. He takes a sharp inhale. "What's that? Losing focus?"
"No. Never, sweetheart," he says with a laugh, though it's shaky. Without even losing a beat his fingers flex in your hand, the pad of his thumb caressing at the skin of your thigh that he's never touched till now.
"What about now?" you ask, abruptly pushing his hand up your skirt to rest on your clothed pussy.
Before you can even process the next heartbeat, Eddie is on you. His mouth is capturing yours in a soul searing kiss and you can't help but gasp into him. Taking in his taste and scent all at the same heady time. Your hand abandons his on your mound and you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him as close to you as possible.
"If I die, I fucking die,” Eddie practically growls against your lips. “Distract me, baby.”
You laugh but he dips his head down to nips at your collar bone and it turns into a moan. Eddie’s hand starts rubbing blindly at your slit through your panties and you find your hips moving against his fingers of their own accord.
“Do horror movies turn you on?” Eddie teases. You bite your lip and shake your head, looking him dead in the eye.
“No, you turn me on, Eddie Munson.”
Suddenly you’re being pushed back down against the couch. The abruptness of his manhandling has you squealing and you lock your arms around his neck, being sure to keep him close and bringing him down with you.
His kiss arrests your lips again, his tongue invading your mouth. It’s everything you ever wanted. It’s what you’d imagined each time you’d watched him from the other side of a party or listened to him joking around with your mutual friends.
All of his attention. All of his focus on you.
What you don’t realize is that it’s always been on you. At those parties and those hang outs, as much as you’d watched him, he’d been watching you. Learned to love your smile and how quick you were to laugh. Catalogued your stories in the back of his mind as you told them to a riveted audience of all the teens.
He’s finally getting to touch you the way he’s always wanted. And it’s working him up faster than he’d like to admit.
You shift on the couch and it gives him more room to slot his body between your opened thighs. When his hard, denim-covered bulge presses against your thigh, your hips buck, pushing up into the palm which has been applying pressure to your pussy.
“Remember that agenda?” You ask with a tremor in your voice. His hand slips under the elastic of your panties, fingers making direct contacted with your slick core for the first time. You both groan.
“Um…yeah.” He says, shaking his head as if to clear it in order to comprehend your words. The tip of a finger circles your clit before sliding down to push into your hole. You gasp. “Your to-do list.”
“You’re at the top,” you gasp out.
There’s a moment where a Eddie doesn’t react. He’s so focused on pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy, feeling you around him. Watching your chest rise and fall. But when your words make sense he throws back his head and let’s out a bellowing laugh. His laugh makes you laugh and then you’re shaking in one another’s arms. Trying to calm down. The shared vibrations of your joint hysteria seeming to wreak havoc on all of your nerve endings.
Eddie lunges forward and begins sucking at your neck and the tops of your breasts exposed by your low neckline. Just as he adds another finger to your pussy.
“I can be efficient, too, you know,” he says before worrying your skin between his lips.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you be efficient with your shirt off?” You ask, fingers scrabbling at the hem of the garment. Eddie sits up quickly and yanks the shirt off with unnecessary, theatrical aggression, tossing it away as if it’s offended him. You reach out and trace the tattoos on his chest and he moves to lower himself back over you.
“Mmm, cool guy,” you hum, your fingers passing delicately over his inked skin. Eddie quickly unbuttons your blouse and pulls it open, gazing hungry down at your bra-clad breasts.
“Hot girl,” he responds, pressing his face juvenilely between your tits. You grasp at the hair at the back of his neck and laugh until you feel him beginning to suck on you. Then your hips are rolling into his hand. The hand that’s started to fuck you in earnest. “You look like you’re more distracted than me right now, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll be dying before me after all. That petite mort, huh?”
You’re laughing and gasping all at once. His French accent is atrocious but he’s referencing a conversation you’d had with him and Robin about orgasms the week prior. You hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention since he’d been half in argument with Steve at the time, but now you know otherwise.
“You we’re listening to that? Was - fuck - pretty sure you were focused on whatever Harrington was saying.”
“I’m always focused on you, sweetheart.”
You feel heat creeping through your body as fondness mixes with arousal. You’re impatient and you both push and pull at him all at once.
“Ok I just need you to fuck me, ok? Can we jump to that?”
“Nuh uh, I’m making you cum first.” His thumb presses harder circles into your clit and you cry out. But you shake your head dramatically side to side.
“No I want you inside me now.”
“That’s a bit pushy of you, isn’t it?” Eddie teases, but as he does so he eases his fingers out of you and brings them up to lick off your slick. You’re already unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans.
“No, I’m efficient. Type A, remember?” His cock springs free of his boxers and you’re ready to drool. He’s practically edible, and if you weren’t so fucking on the edge right now you’d swallow him while immediately.
“How could I forget,” he responds, voice full of gravel as he grabs his cock and pumps one twice. You lay back against the couch, legs splayed and waiting for him, divesting yourself of your bra and cupping your breasts to keep yourself worked up. “Fuck you’re a pretty picture.”
“Gonna just stare or are you gonna do something, Munson?”
“See? Pushy,” he says, even as he lowers himself on top of you and pushes his tip right into your entrance.
The teasing stops as you both come together with rolling hips and gasping breaths. His thrusts are hard and definitive and you find yourself holding on for dear life. He feels so good and right and heavy and strong and you’re so close so soon.
“Eddie…Jesus Christ I’m…” your eyes are squeezed shut and he kisses your eye lids, paradoxically sweet when juxtaposed with the harsh way he’s pounding into you.
“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and there’s playful mocking in his tone. If you couldn’t feel his muscles shaking, proving he is equally close, you would have felt more shame.
“Y-yeah…gonna cum.” You admit it on a whine. He feels so good and then suddenly his finger is between you, swirling over your clit again.
“Already? I guess that’s efficient of you,” he says and you clench hard when you laugh, making him let out a loud moan.
“Stop - fuck! You can’t clench like that,” he admonishes.
“Stop making me laugh then, asshole,” you say with no bite. He, however, bites your neck and laves his tongue over the skin.
“Mmmm, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”
You’re not sure what does it - his thrusts, his finger on your clit, his teasing - but one moment you’re rolling your hips into his and the next you’re writhing beneath him, cumming harder than you ever have before. You practically black out calling his name, so much so that you don’t even notice when he cums along right after you.
You come back to your senses to find him still inside you, trailing kisses up and down your throat and chest. You take a deep shuddering breath and grip weakly at his back.
“You gotta get up,” you say, pushing weakly at him with not intent behind the motion. Eddie shakes his head and buries it into your neck.
“Never.”
“I gotta get up and cross you off my checklist.” You tease with a breathless laugh which he returns.
“You can’t. We were so distracted the killer got us. We’re dead, remember?” His grin is so wide one of your trembling hands lifts automatically to trace his dimples.
“Fuck. The downside to being cool and hot is pretty disproportionate to the upside.”
“Speak for yourself,” he snorts, letting his hand come up to cup your jaw. “I’m staring at a pretty big upside.”
~*~
Tiny tag list (will come back later and add more people): @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @cowboy-kylo
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toji-girl · 2 months
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all ours | alphas! k. bakugo & e. kirishima
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synopsis: Coming into heat a few days earlier was not something you planned on, and for sure it not happening when you're walking home in the woods.
wc: 3.7k
tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + all characters are over the age of 21 + repost + monsterfucking + mfm threesome + you're in heat + they're in ruts + double dp + anal/fingering + they pick you up + it's mating season + breeding + talks about pups/liters + hints at a poly relationship + they manhandle you + knotting + they fight over you kinda + pussy eating + unprotected sex + creampies + they have monster cocks + mostly smut
an: again, I don't know much about Omgeaverse and all that, I just know I want them both djkgnrekgerand it was supposed to be less than 2k
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You regretted this more than when you listened to your friend and jumped off the swing which ended in a fractured ankle that still aches at times even years later. Cold nipped at your exposed skin and became covered with goosebumps the more you walked slower. 
It was after a party Mina was able to pester you into going to for a while, after all, it was the Halloween season, and she needed an excuse to show off her new costume and you needed to get out. 
After you reassured your best friend multiple times that you would be fine getting home and knew a shortcut home that led you to the mouth of the dark woods, the branches creaked as they reached out to you what felt like when the wind swayed the heavy wood. Your ears twitched when you heard the animals in the woods scurrying away from whatever it was. 
Your eyes darted around for anyone around but it was well after ten in the evening on a Thursday night and when Mina kept the reminder that you didn’t have work tomorrow and you needed this it was fruitless to argue with her and ended up going wishing you brought a coat. 
The night was still and silent minus the leaves that got swept up in the wind that breezed around you and pooled around your high heels that would only sink into the damp dirt making it impossible to walk, however, you were grateful that you wore thick thighs to keep your feet warm as you stepped over a fallen branch stepping into the woods with trepidation and a sigh. 
There was a path that you’d taken a million times already knowing it would take ten minutes tops to get home and using muscle memory you held your shoes from the tips of your fingers making your way over the soft earth as the moon high above you bathed the naked trees in a creamy white color, tonight it was bright and full that it made you put an extra pep in your step. 
With a full moon nearing Halloween you knew that sometimes werewolves would roam these woods looking for something to sink their teeth into, and the scariest part was that you knew if you were to run into any of them they would be ones you know. Your pace picked up as you gripped the jacket Denki placed on your shoulders before he and his friends left the party. 
Maybe you should’ve asked them for a ride home, they went back before you and Mina did anyway, and instead of walking through the woods you could be in the bath then be cuddled under the blankets with a horror movie marathon playing in the background as you finish up work you brought home with you unfortunately. 
Off in the distance, you could hear two owls hooting back and forth having some sort of conversation making you feel a little less lonely, this was a dangerous game you were playing even with the fast steps you managed to take until a cramp from between your legs halted you dead in the mess of fallen leaves, dirt, and a few sticks. “No. No.” You whimpered softly. 
This cannot be happening right now, your heat was a few days early and your heat suppressant pills weren’t able to come in on time and for the first time in months, you’ll be experiencing it. Rapid warmth filled your entire being suddenly, your knees knocked together as you dropped your high heels and let out a whine that was caught in the air with a white cloudy puff. 
You had hoped with the weekend coming up and half of the week taken off from work you would be in bed when it came or at least in the comfort of your own home where you had plenty of snacks and things to help get you through this. Another pitiful whine parted your glossy lips, the product made them stick together as you dropped to your knees now gripping the dirt. 
The way it hit you, your body produced the sickly sweet smell of your pussy that gushed around nothing, it slowly ramped up until your leg was shaking and you were curled into yourself unable to call for anyone, and you knew all you had to do was wait it for fifteen minutes then you’d be able to make it home and into your mattress where everything was waiting for you. 
With the way your body craved to be bred, your bunny brain could only think about one thing. Cock. How you hated it sometimes when this happened, all you could do was hump things, your pillow, clothes, the edge of the couch, or the showerhead. Anything you could get your greedy hands on it was either going inside you or at least rubbed against your clit for friction. 
It truly melted you down into a puddle of need, and with the way, Denki asked if he could take you home after the party you should’ve agreed but at the time you weren’t even in the mood to be kissed and groped on after the long day at work, home was the only thing you wanted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the intense waves that crashed over your body. 
“Please just let up.” You mumbled your breath and shed the jacket you wore to create a makeshift pillow that would keep out of the dirt as you assumed the usual position of face down and ass up to rub at your pussy from behind so fucking needy and unashamed about touching yourself like this in such an open space for anyone to come by too and see you in such a state. 
When you were comfortable enough your hands made quick work and pushed your dress to meet your bra almost thankful that it wasn’t too tight or you’d just rip it off or go naked, your panties were next that were shoved down to your knees putting your cute cunt on display. 
Your fingers parted your slicked-up pussylips with a soft whine when the cold air caressed your inner heated flesh and your other hand took care of massaging your clit exposing your hole to the air, it should be so embarrassing and downright degrading to be doing this without a care in the world, the only thing you wanted or chased was at least one orgasm to get up and go home. 
Drool has already begun to leak out from your parted lips with fast and hot breaths that huffed from them as your middle and index finger rubbed messily rubbed at your clit missing it from the copious amount of slick that stuck to your cunt, it was sticky and thick making it easier for your mate to fuck you. Tears poured down your cheeks as you sobbed from the pressure of it all. 
Your pussy ached to be fucked and played with, your fingers were not enough and you cursed whoever it was that you had to go through this. It’s not fair. Maybe you could call someone to come and help but then you mentally ran through the list of men you knew and couldn’t bare facing them this way, face pushed into the dirt as you finger fuck yourself like a bitch in heat. 
Technically you were, and you were glad you got the bunny gene knowing that in your teenage years when the alphas start to fill out and come into their natural beings, they would constantly tease you about it and call you just that whenever you had to stay at home from school away from everyone and holed up in your bedroom whimpering as the heat suppressant worked. 
It felt like your skin was stretched over your muscles and bones in a taut way that harder you fell into your heat like it was some cosmical punishment for something you did, the pain and pleasure beat against each other like a drum, pain from not having someone stuffing you full and how your body arched then pleasure from your fingers drilling your dripping cunt fast. 
You whined louder when the tip of your finger brushed against your G-spot over and over until your toes curled hard but it wasn’t enough. Your cotton tail twitched as you humped your own hand when the snap of a twig had you fumbling to sit up with your fingers now painfully removed from your cunt that kept drooling making a mess under you, there was so much slick it pooled. 
More branches snapped in either direction of you, and your head whipped side to side as fear trickled into your bones making your teeth chatter with it, you know calling out would only give away your location. Your body fought hard against you to get up and pull your panties on the right way when you heard a deep and almost guttural snort from the left of you. “Bunny.” 
Your ears twitched as did your nose at the growl. Immediately you knew it was Katsuki, he and his friends had been at the party earlier and you spoke to them, even danced a little between him and his red-headed best friend. “B-Bakugo?” You whined, your fingers curled around damp leaves as he stepped closer, your scent was sickeningly sweet and it made him mad with the feral need to mount you, slipping into his own heat. He wanted nothing more than you on him. 
“We can smell you a mile away.” It was Eijiro who spoke up this time, his usual soft voice was replaced with something else, the animal in him was fighting to come to the surface and it became unbearable for both men approaching your smaller form. “Kirishima.” You gasped. 
They flanked you on both sides, large and looming over you. They were so big they blocked most of the moonlight making you focus on their outlines, their heavy breathing was in sync as they curled their fingers into fists feeling their cocks leak. What kind of timing is this? You in your heat and them in their rut? It felt like a present was being handed to each other and it was all you ever wanted or needed. 
And it wasn’t like you didn’t know them, ever since high school you had known both men. Katsuki was the first one to inhale gruffly, a large hand that only grew bigger came down to rub at the very obvious bulge in his pants, and poor you looking up at them with big wet shiny eyes, your hand going back down between your legs to slip back inside your panties knowing you could trust them and the three of you were past caring, too deeply infused with the need to cum like mindless creatures only made to feel release and breed. 
A pair of red eyes watched as your own rolled to the back of your head as you maneuvered yourself to your back and caressed your puffy clit splaying yourself open for them both. Like this, you were a completely different person. “Want you two ‘s bad please fuck me, I want your knots.” You begged and whimpered looking like a complete mess fingering yourself like that. 
In the middle of a forest floor with not just one intimidating alpha, but two of them who both dropped to their knees in front of you. Katsuki was the first one to shoulder pump Eijiro out of the way to be the first one to kiss the wet slit of your pussy once you removed your fingers, his rough tongue lolled out of his mouth filled with sharp canines. “Poor little bunny came into heat.” 
His tone was a bit mean as he licked a wide stripe up your cunt to your clit he sucked into his awaiting mouth that felt like it completely covered you as he thumbed you open to his liking to keep licking into you like a madman that’s eating the best meal of his life, the red-headed man who was fueled by his own lost crawled over to you on his knees. “So pretty for us though.” 
Propped up on your elbows you were in a position to kiss him when he bent at the waist, his tongue was large and wet as he swirled it around your open mouth and then down your throat making you gag and the kiss messy and wet when he pulled away you coughed and hacked then broke off into a loud moan when you fluttered around Katsuki and arched your back. 
He was stroking all the right spots until your thighs were clamped against his head keeping it still between your legs all the while you pawed at Eijiro’s pants thankful there weren’t any buttons as you freed his fat heavy cock that dripped with pearly thick pre-cum, it reminded you of your slick earlier that leaked from your needy pussy that Katsuki ate up without a care. 
The rational part of your brain wanted to fight at first, the idea of them knotting you was not a good one knowing you could actually end up with a liter of pups or even a single one and while you were pretty good friends with them you knew after this the relationship would be a little strange after engaging in a threesome in the open woods dressed in Halloween costumes. 
None of that mattered when you felt like your body was going to burst open at the seams, your jaw went slack as you used Eijiro’s thick arousal to coat the impressive length of his cock, it wasn’t quite normal, the end tapered off and it was thicker and longer than what a humans
should be with a deflated knot at the base meant to fill you to the brim and keep it plugged in. 
The idea made you whimper as you tugged on Katsuki’s hair with your free hand grinding his face and tongue deeper into your pussy as your first orgasm rose higher and higher, the blonde man wanted to push you over the edge to hear you cry out his name while his best friend watched from above fucking your fist, when your head turned the sticky tip kissed your lips. 
It was a mess, the three of you chasing a high and wanting to fuck each other dumb was the only thought in your lust-riddled brain not caring about anything even if you get caught. It was almost scary how you got like this. “C-” You couldn’t even force the rest of the word out as you tumbled head first in your climax panting and moaning Katsuki’s name like a daily prayer. 
Your hand fell from Eijiro’s cock which felt neglected, and so did the other man between your legs. They wanted to release and while usually, they’d love to see your pretty lips wrapped around their cocks it wasn’t going to happen this time, and the last thing they wanted to do was to knot in your mouth so they’d have to take turns which came down to who won the fight first. 
Eijiro panted and brushed back his red hair from his forehead to muscle his friend out of his way as he did to him earlier earning a deep growl and grunt. “You got to taste her before anything and this was your idea-” Katsuki glared over and shoved him in his chest at the slip-up. Your ears perked up at the words and gazed at them both, your eyes glassy and blown out. 
“Idea?” You slurred. Did they plan this? Katsuki ignored Eijiro and towered above you, one large palm cupping your cheek as he stared at you intently, his chest heaving with fast breaths that smelled so much of you. “We could…smell you at the party so we followed you to make sure you got home safely then we were going to head home but then you got caught fingering that cute little pussy wanting and needing to be bred. We’ll take care of you, do you trust us bunny?” 
Your heart melted at their protectiveness of you, your brain pumped information into you that they would make good mates and you were suddenly looking at them in a new light. “I do yes.” It was all they needed before Eijiro was the first one to manhandle you into his arms picking you up and raising to his full height, his hands cupped your ass as your legs wrapped around him. 
Katsuki stood behind you to keep you propped up between them, their cocks drooling with pre-cum that produced enough slick that you didn’t even need your own. They both nuzzled their noses into you, their bodies half-stuck between changing. Their ruts prevent it from happening otherwise they’d both be taller and much more imposing, and there would be no way you could take them without feeling like you’d be getting split in two. 
Parts of their flesh sprouted fur making them look more monstrous as their red eyes glowed under the inky sky, their tongues tasted your flesh memorizing the taste as you held onto Eijiro’s shoulders grinding your bare and throbbing pussy against his cock. “Stop teasing!” You whined and tossed your head back to look at the other man with a small pout and furrowed eyebrows. 
“She’s right s’not right to tease a bunny who just wants to be stuffed full to the brim, mhm?” Eijiro murmured as he nuzzled his face into your neck kissing the fevered skin, the position they had you in was directed right under the moon that pushed more of their body to contort and gain full control of the animal inside them raging and sizzling wanting to be released to ravage you. 
You shook your head and tried to bounce a little feeling the sticky swollen head of his cock catch between your thighs, he was so warm that it almost burned when he angled his knees letting you drop down a little while Katsuki spread you open from behind to make sure his friend could catch the narrowed tip of his fat cock against your hole that opened for him greedily before he pulled away rubbing it against the opening again slowly before Eijiro pushed inside halfway. 
Katsuki kissed the back of your neck, his fingers rubbed at where you and his friend met gathering the slick to lube your asshole before he did the same with teasing movements, his teeth flirted with your flesh. “Still good for us?” He husked before he pushed his finger inside. 
All you could do was nod and sob from it all, the way they handled you all while wrapped up in their own lust. They kissed away your tears being soft in their treatment even with raging desire throttled them to ravage you, and they would too but at first they wanted you nice and pilant. “Got to get you nice and dumb on your cocks, can you handle two knots bunny?” Eijiro asked. 
Your cunt gushed around him when he mentioned that. Red eyes clashed together again. “Should feel her clenching around me so tight at that, she wants it so bad, double bred. Want to be our little mate?” The first part of his sentence was tossed at Katsuki then the rest was for you. It all made sense to agree in the moment and that didn’t sound bad, being taken care of. 
You could feel Katsuki’s chest rumble against your back as he slipped his finger inside stretching you out before he worked in tandem with Eijiro until the blonde man could fit at least three thick fingers then his cockhead was pressed against your slicked-gaped hole; hot and wet. 
He pushed in when Eijiro pulled out and they both held you up using their incredible strength as growls gurgled from their throats, your name came out in white puffs as their hands kept groping your body tearing away the rest of your clothes with claws until you were naked, ribbons of your costume were pooled at their feet in shreds. With the way they had you pressed between them, it was easy for them to tug and pinch at your nipples causing the ball to get tighter in your belly. 
Katsuki’s hand found your tail and grabbed it in his big hand pulling it very slightly making you croon and gasp out loud, your pussy clenched around them when they both bottomed out inside and ground against you lazily feeling their orgasms not far behind.
Eijiro’s fingers found your swollen clit and rubbed against it. “Cum for us bunny, gonna give you our knots.” He growled, his teeth sharper when he spoke, white teeth glittered under the moon making him look feral. 
That’s how he felt when you leaned in and held his shoulders to find his lips in a hot and needy kiss, his tongue found the back of your throat again almost too large for your mouth. You sucked on it moaning around the appendage hearing the wet sounds of it and them fucking you, your slick gushed around their cocks coating their pants in the sticky mess that would serve as a reminder for later. 
The last stroke was when Katsuki let his teeth sink into one shoulder and Eijiro did the same to the other, together they marked you. Your pussy creamed around the red-headed man and Katsuki almost felt fear when you orgasmed, your walls pusled around him so tight he thought they were going to rip his dick off. 
They both fucked into you fast and frenzied bullying their cocks into you despite you coming around them anyway until their own climaxes had them roaring into the night air, a primal display of mating that was a warning to everyone around that you are now theirs. You could feel them push the last few inches inside making you feel so snug and full as they painted you white. 
You weren’t sure of how long passed as they petted and kissed you until their knots deflated and they could slip out and carry you home to finally get you into the bath and into bed, snuggled between them warm and sated, their cum still buried deep in your womb. 
409 notes · View notes
startwelve · 3 months
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💌romantic scene
Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
Synopsis: You and Eddie are having a movie night and without knowing it, you chose an adult romance movie.
Warning: Only mention of moaning and suggestion of what the protagonists of the movie you and Eddie watch are doing.
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Eddie was waiting for you outside his trailer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You were taking longer than expected for your movie night. Then you showed up, walking tiredly and somewhat breathless.
"Hey, why did you take so long?" Eddie asked.
"I'm sorry," you apologized quickly.
"I'm sorry won't cut it this time, princess. I was really worried, what if you had an accident? What if some psycho stalker was looking for you?" he said semi-jokingly, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow.
"My lip balm ran out, so I had to go to the pharmacy to buy another one," you confessed.
Your confession puzzled him; he couldn't believe you had been delayed because of lip balm. And he wouldn't understand why you needed to have that lip balm with you.
"An emergency with lip balm? Are you kidding, princess?" he asked, obviously not believing a word.
"I'm sorry…"
"I've been waiting for hours, and you were late because of your stupid lip balm?" he said, rolling his eyes before stepping aside and opening the door to let you in. "Anyway, come on, it's movie night."
"It's not a stupid lip balm, it's what helps me stay alive every day," you commented as you entered his trailer.
Eddie rolled his eyes and sat on the couch next to you. He remembered your little obsession with lip balms. He chuckled with a smile.
"Alright, maybe your lipstick helps you feel pretty, but saying it gives you life is a bit dramatic."
You frowned, remembering that he loved something as much as you loved your lip balms.
"What would happen to you if your guitar broke right now?"
Eddie raised his eyebrows, and his smile faded slightly. He crossed his arms and looked away. His guitar was very important to him.
"Don't joke about my guitar. It's not the same at all."
"If you say so…"
"It's not the same at all. You can live without your precious lip balm."
Now you crossed your arms.
"No! Because if I don't use my lip balm anymore, my lips will end up as dry and ugly as my grandma's."
Eddie couldn't believe you were arguing over lip balm.
"Anyway, let's watch the movie. What do you want to watch? Horror, action, or romance?"
"Romance…"
Eddie preferred a horror movie. Romance movies made him sick, especially the ones you chose. Eddie's eyebrow raised, and a smile appeared on his lips. He knew what you were doing.
"You want to watch romance? A silly chick flick?"
"Yes, I brought one," you said eagerly and searched your bag for the cassette; the movie was very sugary and sweet.
Eddie groaned.
"Can we watch horror or action? I don't want to watch a cheesy romantic movie."
"You didn't want to watch a horror movie last time; you couldn't sleep well for two weeks," you reminded him. "Fine, fine. We'll watch your little cheesy romantic movie. Are you happy?" he said in an exaggerated tone and raised his hands in a gesture of submission.
"Yes," you replied triumphantly.
Eddie groaned.
"Whatever you say, princess," he said and shook his head. "So, what kind of romantic movie are we watching?" It was the typical cliché of a love triangle between a good girl, a popular guy, and a lonely, marginalized guy. "Oh, so a typical romantic story?"
"I think so."
Eddie rolled his eyes and walked to the TV. He grabbed the remote and turned it on before turning to you.
"So, who do you think she'll choose in the end?"
"Mmm, she always chooses the one who treats her best…"
The movie started, and you watched it. The movie was absolutely sweet, and Eddie was getting bored watching it, almost falling asleep. But you were fascinated by the movie. Until you were horrified when, in the middle of the movie, the popular guy took the protagonist to his dressing room to kiss her, and Eddie started laughing at your expression. He sat down and watched, his lips curving into a smile.
"That's it! We've reached the kissing scene. I bet the loner will swoop in and give her the best kiss, and she'll realize who the real man for her is."
Eddie covered his mouth to suppress a laugh.
"But, Eddie, there's more going on than…" you couldn't finish speaking because of a moan from the protagonist.
Your eyes widened when you heard the sound of the moan; it was unexpected. He looked at you and saw that you were as surprised as he was.
"Well, that's surprising, a scene of true love in a romantic movie? I never would have imagined it."
You grabbed the cassette cover to read it better; you had bought it because you found the cover romantic, and the guy at the counter had told you it was a very good movie. Now you understood why… Down on the left in small letters, it said "+18".
Eddie was laughing out loud at this point. This is quite amusing. No wonder he had no idea a romantic movie could be so explicit. Eddie couldn't stop laughing. He looked at her and noticed how uncomfortable she was.
"Wow, it's even affecting me. I can't believe they put this scene in a romantic movie. Are you okay, princess?"
"Take out the movie, Eddie, I don't want to watch it anymore."
Eddie smiled and got up.
"Okay, princess. I guess the movie was too hot for you to handle."
He walked to the VCR and took out the cassette.
"Why do you say that?"
Eddie laughed again.
"Well, it was pretty obvious that you felt uncomfortable with the love scene. I guess you've never seen anything like it before."
"Never," you confessed with embarrassment.
He raised an eyebrow. It was good to know she was a little inexperienced. It made her even more adorable and cute.
"Really? The way you blushed made me think you had quite a rude awakening with that scene."
"I, umm, yeah," you lied.
Eddie laughed.
"Your cheeks are still a bit red. It's
very cute…"
He still couldn't believe you blushed so much because of a scene like that. "What a protected princess," Eddie thought.
"You?," you asked in a timid whisper.
Eddie arched an eyebrow and gave you a mischievous smile.
"What about me?"
"For you, for you, for you, I mean, umm, did the scene affect you?"
He laughed, finding you adorable.
"Well, I was a bit surprised too. I didn't expect a romantic movie to be so, let's say, realistic. But I didn't blush or anything."
"No?"
Eddie laughed again.
"No."
Of course, your reaction was more adorable than he could ever be. Especially when you're so nervous. He likes this side of you. The innocent side. It's more fitting. He thought it would be fun to start teasing you more for being a protected princess.
"Oh, really?"
Eddie smiled. You were even more flushed now. This was starting to seem more like flirting than just a joke.
"Yes, I didn't blush like you."
You looked at your hands, which were nervously playing with your skirt, then at the TV, and then at Eddie, searching for the words to ask him a question.
"You, you, you know, not, umm…"
"Do I know what?" Eddie asked, with a slightly raised eyebrow.
He found it cute how you kept looking down or away every time you asked something.
You took a deep breath and asked quickly.
"Have you ever done it?"
Eddie froze for a second. "Did she just ask what I think she asked? Why is she blushing even more?" Eddie thought.
"Done what?"
"What they did in the movie," you whispered.
Eddie laughed again and shook his head.
"Oh, do you mean something like this?" His lips quickly approached your face, causing his breath to caress your small, soft lips. You jumped in surprise, and a small scream escaped your lips. Eddie immediately jumped back, startled by your reaction.
"Are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."
You covered your mouth with your hand in surprise; you just didn't expect him to do that.
"I didn't expect it."
"Oh, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. You're being so cute right now," Eddie said with a mischievous smile.
You had only been kissed once in high school, by a guy in the courtyard. You didn't like it. His breath smelled like fish, he used too much saliva, and his tongue almost choked you. And when you confessed to Eddie that you had only been kissed once, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe you were so inexperienced and hadn't kissed someone more than once. So he decided to keep teasing you.
"Only once? Well, then I guess I should show you the real deal. Would you like that, princess?"
Your cheeks flushed; you wanted to.
Eddie laughed. The teasing was working. Eddie got up and knelt beside you. He extended a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He got very close to your face. Your breath caught in your throat, and you opened your eyes in surprise. Eddie's lips were only inches away from yours, and you could feel his warm breath brushing against your lips. The scent of his cologne filled your nose; it was a perfect blend of citrus and lavender. He brushed your cheek with his other hand. It sent a shiver down your spine.
"Are you okay there, princess?" he joked. "Is it okay if I continue? Or do you prefer we wait?"
You couldn't speak; the words wouldn't come out. "Oh, this is adorable. I think I should do it," Eddie thought to himself. His hand still tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. His lips were so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. With one hand, he cradled your face. You sighed nervously.
"I like that you're so quiet, princess. It makes me want to kiss you more than before." He leaned in slowly, moving his lips very slowly towards yours.
Eddie's lips brushed gently against yours, and you felt his breath filling your lungs. It was soft and warm. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. He had just given you your first real kiss. Eddie's hand was under your chin as he held your face, looking into your eyes, waiting for your response.
"You kissed me," you whispered.
Eddie smiled.
"Yes, I kissed you."
You didn't know what to say; you just wanted him to kiss you again. Eddie leaned in a little more, and then his lips met yours again. This time it was more intense, with more passion than before. You didn't want to break the kiss and waited for you to pull away first. Eddie noticed that you had no idea what you were doing with your lips, so he took the lead. He moved his hands to the back of your head and pulled you a little closer to the kiss. His tongue gently met yours, and his lips moved in sync with yours. Eddie's thumb stroked your cheek, and he felt excited thinking to himself. He continued kissing you intensely. His lips pressed harder against yours, and you could feel his breath in your throat. His tongue explored your mouth, making it a more intimate and passionate moment. Slowly, you pulled away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the kiss.
Eddie let go of your face and sat back down. He hoped you weren't too upset now that he had stopped. Eddie watched you breathe and saw that your face was flushed. You were acting very shy now. And he wondered how you felt about how he kissed you.
"So, princess, did you like my kiss?"
"Yes," you whispered.
"So, is that a yes for me to kiss you again?" He leaned in very slowly, moving his lips closer to yours.
You nodded your head. Eddie leaned in again, this time seeking a less intense kiss. It was softer than a passionate kiss. His hands held you by the cheeks. His tongue touched yours gently. He continued to smile to himself as he kissed her.
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preciouslandmermaid · 2 months
Text
💐💐💐
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imagine being a kindergarten teacher who meets reid
maybe its thru JJ, maybe you've got Henry in your class, and she kindly, warmly strikes a friendship with you after Henry moves into 1st grade. and its a little unorthodox but jj and her husband are always willing to help out (when their schedules can allow) with school events and so yeah, you become friends.
and when jj introduces you to her friends/colleagues - there is of course a little bit of an intimidation factor (because hello...they are fbi) but penelope makes you feel so welcome (because of course she does. and you tell her your students would love her. and she offers to teach a tech class and youre like ok they're five but yes let's do it) and morgan shamelessly flirting, and emily being hot and intimidating and then there's reid, quiet, awkward, wont-shake-your-hand reid.
but there's something to it - a mutual nerdiness, perhaps, or how reid doesn't make you feel "stupid" just because you're an elementary school teacher and not a professor at a college (despite the fact that in many places you need a least a master's to teach).
imagine weeks later when you run into reid at the coffee shop. completely random. the sky is gray, uninteresting, and promising rain. he surprises you by remembering your name before there's a shy yet earnest quip when he says he's got an "eidetic memory." and you laugh warmly and spencer thinks its one of the best sounds he's heard all morning.
and it goes slowly from there, but it moves naturally, like a caterpillar forming its chrysalis
(when you tell reid this, somewhere after the 4 month mark since you've long stopped counting individual dates, he says; "did you know the word comes from the greek word 'khrusos' - which means gold - because of the gold color or metallic sheen of some pupae".
and in that moment, that singular moment, you admire the honey-gold tint of his eyes in the late afternoon sun spilling luminescence across the sidewalks and across shiny car windshields and think that you could already see the shape and color of whatever butterfly that was going to burst from its cocoon).
one time you refused to come over his apartment because "the kids used glitter today" and you didn't want to get it all over his place. so he came over instead, and you watched the iridescent sparkles swirl down the bathtub drain together.
imagine spencer reid laying his head in your lap, something heavy and unspoken between you, shaped in the spread of his fingers across your hips, in the erratic pulse of his heart pressing into your shins
the school doesn't celebrate Halloween, but they have an annual "trunk or treat" where people CAN dress up and trick-or-treat out of the trunks of their cars and spencer starts helping you, decorating the trunk with fake cobwebs, and skulls, and eventually diving into convoluted themes that you're not convinced kids aged 5-10 are totally going to get.
"it's jaws." he says, holding a shark head made of paper mache, "you know, the 1975 film? you said we couldn't do slasher horror movies because they're too gory for the kids but i'd argue that this movie stands alone as a great horror film with how Spielberg creates consistent tension throughout the whole film considering we don't see the shark until an hour and twenty-one minutes into the run time."
(the kids don't really get it, it's true. "sharks aren't monsters." they would say, or "sharks aren't scary." or "is this from Baby Shark?" but you and spencer have fun, passing out candy, sharing small looks to each other--so that makes it all worth it).
imagine something soft, sweet, something quiet shared over coffee with spencer. something gentle amidst all the chaos, the heartache, and stress of his day-to-day job.
"I don't know how you do it," you tell him, "seeing the worst of what the world has to offer day in and day out."
his long fingers stroke the underside of your jaw, "i don't know how you manage a room full of fifteen 5 and 6-year-olds." he pulls a face. "especially with the germs."
imagine bringing spencer lunch at the office - earning the knowing, sly looks from his friends and team, knowing you can't hide against a room full of profilers and knowing it doesn't really matter anyways.
:) ok that's all i got. <3
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hippiepowrs · 2 months
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he's a goner
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eddie munson x gn!best friend!reader
a/n: this is the first fic i'm ever posting on here i'm so nervous plz don't eat me guys
warnings: pining. yearning. longing, if you will. just eddie being totally whipped. swearing. weed use/vague descriptions of being high. d&d terminology. one line from gareth. no use of y/n or reader's pronouns. eddie's pov.
wc: 571
Eddie’s in way too fucking deep.
Maybe this is salvageable?
No, he’s a goner.
It’s not like this is a scene he hasn’t watched before–his best friend laughing, giggling, and smoking with the rest of the older Hellfire boys–hell, it happens every week. But there’s a certain point where the high starts to hit him just right, and he can’t help himself from staring at you. Despite his typical loudness, the usual brash and joking demeanor that overtakes him, he just sits in his chair, quieter than ever. It’s not unheard of for him to get quiet, so nobody thinks anything of it.
You’re the prettiest person to ever exist, he thinks. He finds himself thinking that a lot. The way one corner of your mouth lifts a little more than the other when you smile, the way your eyes crinkle, the way you sparkle as you giggle; he loves it all. He loves the way you look when you blow smoke through your lips. He’s never been more honored to roll in his life. He’d buy all the weed in Indiana if it meant he got to watch you smoke it. 
Eddie often finds himself wanting to write about you or draw you, but he’s nervous he won’t capture you correctly. You’re the kind of beauty that only the Greeks could capture. He wishes he could sculpt like them, just to be able to sculpt you.
A nudge to his arm breaks him out of his trance. He sees you smiling up at him from the floor. It’s a sight he hopes he’ll get to see for the rest of time.
“Ed,” You say, voice soft and a little tired, “Can you back me up here? Can you please tell these nerds that fighter isn’t the best class?” 
“What?” He mumbles, still out of it. “Guys, literally any class is as good as you make it. Except monks.”
“Fuck off.” Gareth responds, throwing a handful of chips in his mouth.
Eddie zones back out after that. Whatever B-horror movie Jeff brought continues to drone on in the background as you and the guys continue to argue, but he can’t be bothered to listen to any of the words he hears. By the time he zones back in, the guys are standing up and brushing themselves off, clearly ready to leave. They say their goodbyes and Eddie waves them off, leaving him alone with you. 
“Is it cool if I sleep over tonight?” Your voice is his favorite thing to hear. Even better than Hetfield or Dio.
“‘Course.” He says, voice more grumbly than he expected. “You know you’re always welcome to.” 
He watches you stand up, watches the way your shirt rides up as you stretch, admires the sleepiness in your eyes. He wants you in his bed, next to him, he wants to wake up to your face in the morning. He wants the smell of your shampoo to overwhelm him. He wants to kiss you, soft and sweet.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbles under his breath, running a hand over his face before standing back up. Your footsteps are already trailing down the hall to his room, and he quickly follows. You’re halfway through throwing one of his shirts on, which you do every time you sleep over. He’ll never get tired of the way his worn-out shirts hang off your body. He’ll never get tired of you. 
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mistydeyes · 8 months
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hi again! I was wondering if you could possibly do a Task force 141 with a reader that has been through a final girl/boy situation before they joined the military? I was thinking something like a Sidney from scream situation almost.
(I do apologize if your requests are closed, have a good night/day!)
thank you for submitting! i love horror movies (even when they have the final girl trope) so I took inspo from the campy stories! hope you enjoy :)
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summary: When Laswell recommended you to Price to join the 141, you readily took the invitation and left the US Army. However, when you return back to the states someone recognizes you as the surviving victim of a series of murders and you have to answer for your past.
pairing: Task Force 141 x gn!Reader (codename: Onyx)
warnings: swearing, violence/blood/gore, non-major character death
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Before the summer of '08, you used to love horror movies. With your friends, you would have marathons of Halloween, Scream, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Friday the 13th, and other campy classics. You would drink and laugh at the screen as the characters slowly got picked off one by one, leaving one character standing. "God it's always the final girl," you remarked as you watched the generally brunette, book-smart teen walk away before the credits rolled. It used to be just another movie trope. But there are some things the gym and therapy can't fix. After that year, you always walked on the lit side of the street and triple-locked your doors every night.
"Onyx, we're here," Ghost boomed and you woke from your slumber. Your eyes adjusted to the morning sun of Colorado. "Air Force sent us a welcome party to escort us to base," Price commented, getting off the plane. Never would you have thought a mission would bring you back to the States. Despite being teased relentlessly for your lack of accent and inability to relate to growing up in the UK, you relished the thought of being thousands of miles away. "Onyx, you alright?" Soap asked as you piled into a large vehicle. "Yeah, just jet-lagged," you lied through your teeth. "Welcome back to the US," one of the Air Force privates commented and you couldn't help but frown. "Let's just finish this up for Laswell and head back to rainy London."
After a tour and briefing, you decided to head into town to get some dinner. Soap had made a big deal of wanting to try American food and you landed on a popular diner. The meal was alright as you scarfed down a burger and milkshake. You tried to join in the conversation as Gaz wondered if he should try the fried Oreos or get a classic American apple pie. Price and Ghost rolled their eyes, finishing their meal, while Soap tried to help his decision. You pinched your thigh as your scarred hands fell onto your lap. Just another mission, you told yourself, just another mission in another country. When your meal was paid, you walked back to the car casually. You were arguing over who was going to drive when a man did a double take upon locking eyes with you.
"I-I know you," the man yelled as everyone turned in his direction. At first, you hoped he was a mistaken pot head but your stomach dropped when he met your darting gaze. He paced up to you as you looked in fear. "You're that teen, the only one left alive," he continued, now getting closer to your face. "I don't know who you're talking about," you said roughly and attempted to walk away but he grabbed your wrist. "It is you, you were all over the news," his voice was now increasing in volume and people began to look over. "Get off of me!" you commanded but he continued to bombard you with questions. Eventually, as he held his grip, he was roughly pushed back by Gaz. "The fuck man!" he yelled, attempting to throw a punch but was quickly pushed back by Ghost. "Let's go," Ghost demanded and you rushed away from the man as he continued to shout at you.
"What the fuck was that Onyx?" was the first question uttered by Price as you arrived back on the Air Force Base. "Guess the secret's out," you mumbled in response as you sat down at a table. "What didn't Laswell tell us?" he edged and you avoided his piercing gaze. "Alright, boys sit down," you commanded, "better to tell you sooner than later." They had a mix of emotions ranging from confused to frustrated but they took a seat around the table. You took a deep breath as you unearthed your past. "It was in '08 when I was 16," you began, "high on life, good grades, thinking about going to college for international politics." "Get to the point," Price ordered but you let out a sickly laugh. "Captain, I'm about to tell you how I survived my entire friend group being murdered, I'll get to the point when I do," you said sardonically. That shut everyone up.
"Anyways, as you know I was from a small town on the East Coast," they nodded in response, "There were 9 of us, all friends from elementary school. We would do everything together until-." You paused for a moment, trying to suppress the urge to run away. "It all started with Logan." You tried to put the details into the best of terms but decided to pull the bandage off early. "They found his body with 9 stab wounds and 'Limbo' printed on a paper in his neck wound," Price's eyes widened as you looked at the shocked faces surrounding you. "Next was Ashley and the same thing, 9 stabs and a paper with 'Lust'," you continued, the realization began to set in as Ghost awkwardly shifted in his seat. You looked down at your shaking hands before you kept going. "After Ashley, the town was put on a curfew and they labeled the killer as "Dante" since the crimes were following his poem," As you kept reciting the story, you began to unravel further. "I remember texting the rest of my friends being scared shitless, my parents lived in constant fear and kept our doors barred."
Before you could continue, Gaz interrupted. "You don't have to keep going if it's too much," he began to say. "Ye we get the picture," Soap added but you shook your head. "After that, there were four more murders over the next two months," you spoke, "Nick, Amanda, Elizabeth, and Tyler all with the same wounds, paper, and the promise of more to come." "Did the police or FBI do anything?" Ghost asked, now folding his arms on the table. You laughed cynically as you remembered the shit show. "God they tried, they canceled school and kept patrolling but everyone was found either in their homes or after the constant fucking funerals." Tears were beginning to prick your eyes as you got to the last two victims. "They eventually connected us together after Liz and I spent weeks trying to think of anyone who would do this," you were now crying and your voice shook as you choked out the words. "Anyways, it died down for three weeks and we thought it was over with," you trailed off, "but then they found Miranda in her bedroom."
Price put his hat on the table and pulled out a tissue for you. You rejected the offer and wiped furiously at your face. "She was my best friend, had some trouble with depression and attempted suicide in freshman year but she was a good person," you said, almost in a whisper. You remembered the earth-shattering news delivered by the authorities at your door and how you screamed into the midnight air. They refused to give a public burial as it was just another hotbed of victims. You never even got to see her before she was cremated. "I think this is enough," Gaz said, now looking at Price with an angry tone of voice. As both the men exchanged bitter looks, you slammed your hands down on the hard surface. "No, I said I would tell you the whole story and I am going to fucking do it."
"The 8th was supposed to be me," you mumbled as the room looked horrified. Your legs shook and you tried to steady your uneven breathing. "Tyler was a twin and Elle was his sister he left behind" Your voice grew more hoarse as you fought through the pain. "When Tyler died, Elle's parents were devastated and she stayed with my family for the rest of the Spring. She shared a room with me and I slept on a shitty air mattress." You remembered crawling into bed with her some nights, after long hours with the police, trying to reassure her they would find the killer and the nightmare would be over. "I think it was a Tuesday but I woke with Elle sitting on my stomach, She had this crazy look in her eyes," you looked down at your white knuckles that gripped the oak table, feeling the unwavering gaze of your team. "She-she told me how I was a fraud all these years for kissing her after some stupid party and never telling anyone about how we were soulmates. I thought this was some stupid lovers quarrel but she shut me up with a stab to the shoulder." You pulled back your shirt to reveal a silvery wound the size of a hunting knife on your left shoulder. You could hear the silence in the room as they looked at it.
"After that, I tried to scream but she told me she took care of my parents with some concoction of sleep meds and cough syrup," you closed your eyes tightly as you remembered trying to wrestle her off of you and her hands plunging the knife into your arms and upper chest. "How did you survive?" Soap asked, his voice sensitive and low. "I remember feeling immense pain when she stabbed me in the collarbone but she got the knife stuck," your body was on fire, almost as if the wounds were fresh, "so I took the opportunity to throw her off and pull out the knife." Even Ghost looked horrified as he knew what was going to happen next. "I stabbed her in the carotid and she bled out on the floor," you whispered. Your mouth felt metallic and you struggled to make eye contact with anyone as the room became blurry with a flood of tears. "After that, I try not to remember much but apparently she planned to kill all of us and then herself. Her notes lined up with things we did in the past and she was able to pick us off because we all trusted her," you unclenched your fists and lay your palms on the table as they shook violently.
"Fuckin hell," Ghost mumbled and you swallowed harshly. "I moved here away from the town after the media circus, joined the Army after all of it, and when the wounds healed," you concluded, pushing back on the table and getting up. "I'm sorry, Onyx," Price was the first to say and you nodded. "I'm alright now but it's hard when the past follows you," you whispered as you looked down at him. "We're here if you need," Gaz comforted and you felt your face fall into a frown. "Just don't tell anyone else, I don't need a fucking recruit telling me I'm like Sidney Prescott." Before you could leave the room, Price stood up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. His fingers felt warm on your cold skin as you looked up at him. "No one fights alone," he said, almost as if it was some corny movie line. You let out your first relieved laugh of the night as his hand dropped. "Appreciate it, Captain," you whispered, "I hope to see her in hell."
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idyllic-affections · 3 months
Text
bravery and its unique manifestations.
summary. huohuo's baby sibling has always been bolder than her.
trigger & content warnings. none applicable.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. huohuo & younger sibling!foxian!reader, mr. tail & reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.
author's thoughts. mr tail is so dad coded
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huohuo tries her very best to be brave for her baby sibling, [name].
they admire her so very and deeply and earnestly—this, she knows for certain. it would be impossible for her not to know. with the way their eyes grow wide with awe and the way they bounce on their heels, excitedly telling her all about how they want to be just like her when they get older (even though huohuo is barely any older than her baby sibling, and she's unsure if her little heart would be able to handle them being a spiritfarer too…), the way they brag to everyone they meet about how their big sister is just the coolest foxian on the luofu… she would have to be completely and entirely oblivious to not take notice, and even then, she's certain that mr. tail would scoff and point it out to her with a remark about how airheaded she must have been to not realize.
huohuo knows. they admire her more than anyone else on the luofu.
so, she does her best to be brave. [name] thinks she's the most awesome person in the universe! if she didn't at least try to live up to their interpretation of her, then what kind of a big sister would she be..? truly, she does not wish to disappoint them. she would never get over it, never forgive herself, if she did.
she does her best to strengthen her resolve—horror movies at the latest hours of the night, taking on more responsibilities as a spiritfarer, and even going as far as to ask mr. tail to somehow scare her a bit. she just wants to be brave. if not for herself, if not for xueyi and hanya, if not for anyone else in the entire universe, then for her sibling.
even after all of that, though, some fears are not so easily tackled. aeons, she can't help but go stuttery and quiet when someone berates her.
her little sibling has always been bolder than her. they've always been able to stand up for themselves, always been able to keep their chin up, always been able to persevere… they are, in an ironic way, everything she wishes she could be, everything she hopes that she will be one day. just as they wish to be like her, so too does she wish to be like them.
given their sparky attitude, it's no surprise that when they overhear someone berating their big sister, they zip over at the speed of light… or possibly even faster with how they're almost tripping grown adults due to hardly watching where they're going.
mr. tail has already taken to yelling at the one who so boldly dared to talk down to huohuo—that is something only he can do, how dare some random resident think that they also have that right—by the time [name] has gotten to huohuo's side. she tries her best to quickly dry her tears for them. despite her face not being completely dry, [name] doesn't even seem to notice, for immediatly after reaching her side and letting mr. tail finish, they yell:
"yeah! what mr. tail said!" they shout, little foot stomping onto the ground as they cross their arms. their attempt at a scowl really just looks like a pout. simply put, they are not intimidating in the slightest ('cute' might be a better word to describe the little fuming foxian), but the choice of words that follow are certainly silencing: "shut up! who do you think you are to talk to big sister like that?! don't ever say those idiotic things again, you got it?! she's a judge! who the hell are you to talk to her that way?!"
it's quiet for a moment.
then, the perpetrator-turned-victim queitly, awkardly shuffles away. mr. tail chuckles—it could be argued that the sound is fond in its nature, but he would never admit that to anyone. "you tell 'em, pup—"
their chest puffs out proudly.
"—but next time, do it without sayin' hell again, got that?"
they pout. "fine…"
please consider reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot!
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