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#my sister swears she didn’t use it BUT WHO ELSE WOULD HAVE
doublesidedgemini · 1 year
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Oh my god someone used it to scoop up the cats food and just left it in the bag of cat food I am committing murder suicide immediately who fucking did this
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ithebookhoarder · 7 months
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Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 
A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅
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Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 
Masterlist
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There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.
They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.
Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.
Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.
Then Eloise had come along.
As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.
Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.
Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.
So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.
“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”
It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.
You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.
She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.
“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”
“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”
“Traitor.”
“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”
“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”
“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”
“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”
“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”
“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”
“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”
“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”
The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”
The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”
“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”
“I told you.”
“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”
“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.
If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.
“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”
“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”
“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”
“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”
“Oh … joy.”
“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”
“How about… truth or dare?”
Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“
“But Benedict-“
“What’s truth or dare?”
Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.
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Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.
By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.
Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)
You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.
You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.
That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  
Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.
“Now that… was fun.”
“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”
“Told you it was a good idea.”
You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.
“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”
“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”
“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”
Benedict’s jaw dropped.
“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.
“I have my sources.”
Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.
“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”
With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.
And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.
How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  
“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”
You all froze.
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It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.
“Oh, darling. You’re home?”
“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”
“I went for a swim.”
“A - you went for a -“
“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”
Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.
In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.
You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.
“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”
“What game?”
“Pardon?”
“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”
No one moved.
No one even breathed.
It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.
“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”
“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”
Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.
“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.
The silence was instantaneous. 
No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 
You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 
If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 
It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 
“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 
A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 
It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 
You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 
Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 
You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 
“Is that so?”
Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”
Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 
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Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 
In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 
Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.
If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 
You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 
You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 
Hard.
“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 
“Oh?” you croaked. 
You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 
Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.
“Is he still there?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 
You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...
With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 
To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  
“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 
“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”
“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 
“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”
“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”
You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 
However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 
You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 
Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 
In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 
“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”
“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”
Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 
“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 
“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”
“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 
You remembered what you’d forgotten. 
The chair.
“Anthony, wait-!”
The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 
No one moved. 
No one said a word. 
Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”
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rineptune · 3 months
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Heeeeeyyyy pal
Can we get a continuation of that fic with the pregnant reader who's Lucifer's sister
Like what if her water broke at like, the *least* convenient time and Lucifer is freaking tf out, Alastors chill as usual and readers just like
:) "I'm just glad to be here" while having contractions
Love your work btw 🤗
inconvenient timing.
summary: inconvenient timing for your water to break, but what else could you do?
warnings: foul language, brief description of the horrors of pregnancy and labor
a/n: here it is n tysm!! the second part to devil’s paradise
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during your pregnancy, all is well. 
regular visits from the doctor became part of the routine, and alastor made the effort to be the one accompanying you to every last one of them, and on the rare occasion that he couldn’t accompany you, charlie—your ever optimistic and kind niece—was the one who came with.
the crew of the hotel treated you as if you were made of glass, not wanting you to lift too much on your plate, so they did their best to cater to your every need and demand (not that you needed much and bothered them often).
you took care of yourself, too.
though your belly had gotten swollen, you were feeling fine, as if you weren’t carrying the unborn child of the feared radio demon in pride ring. you thanked whoever it is you could thank that you didn’t experience morning sickness, however, you were no exemption from the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant.
lucifer’s worry for your well-being throughout all of this still hasn’t completely faded away. you were his only sister! and his brothers in heaven would surely have his head if something did happen to you now that you’ve fallen from the skies and are now under his domain.
everything was going well, until it wasn’t.
you went with charlie during another meeting with heaven’s official court in place of your brother. obviously, all eyes wandered to your stomach because, how could they not?
a former angel pregnant? that stirred whispers and disgusted expressions from those who were from the court.
“as you can see, the population in hell is—“
charlie was cut off when the angels gasped in unison. confused, she turned to you, and her eyes widened when she saw the bottom half of your dress soaked. 
“oh my go—! aunt yn, your water broke.” she says in a panic.
“i see that, my dear,” you answer with an awkward cough. 
“it seems that i’ll be taking my leave early, uhm... excuse me.”
“wait! uhm, i’ll take you back!” she tells you. “we’ll be back another time, sorry! this is very important for us.” charlie tells the angels present at the court meeting.
alastor swore you were about to snap his hand into two.
“darling, are you nervous?” he asks smoothly.
“no? why would you ask that, al?”
“hmm.”
he glances at the hand that gripped his, remarkably so tight that he feels all the blood from that particular area stop flowing. your free hand caressed your belly through the hospital gown, taking slow and even breaths to somewhat soothe the contractions.
“i was only wondering,” alastor answers.
you may have a high pain tolerance, but when you’re having contractions, you might as well swear on every god and angel to spare you from the agonizing pain—promising to never think of having any children in the future again. 
because, god, it hurts like a bitch.
as calm as you were, lucifer, on the other hand, had no calm bone in his body.
“oh, god. gabriel’s calling,” lucifer says, looking as though he’s about to throw up.
“and the nursery still has renovations that need to be done—“
“i’m going to be an uncle, holy shit—“
“what if something goes wrong? what? no! i shouldn’t think that—“
“should i prepare the gifts—“
“where are the doctors and nurses? they should’ve been here by now—“
“i knew we shouldn’t have taken you to sloth ring, yn—“
“lucifer,” you breathed out. “calm down.”
“i am calm! fucking calm,” he said, wiping away the sweat on his brow. 
“you sound like a dying goat, my lord,” alastor smiled.
“fuck you, deerface.”
“ok, ok. no one should be fighting,” you amusedly sigh, groaning when you feel another sharp contraction that had you biting your lip.
this got the attention of the other two, and lucifer asked you if you were okay as alastor placed a comforting hand on your belly.
well, at least they got along when need be.
“look, she has your eyes and smile, al.”
after long, painful hours of labor and practically dying on your hospital bed due to the procedure of bringing a new life into this hellish world, a healthy baby girl was born.
she took on alastor’s ears, eyes, and smile, while she had your wings and charm. the little fawn was sound asleep in your arms after almost tragically biting off a nurse’s finger when he was checking for anything wrong with your baby—to alastor’s dismay, he wished his little girl had succeeded. 
nevertheless, she is perfect in his eyes already.
“our little fawn is certainly perfect, my dear,” he says. “she has your charm, too.”
“that she does.”
and you best believe charlie and lucifer cried when charlie finally held her baby cousin.
“charlie, dear, are you ok?” you ask, a bit concerned.
“allergies, auntie. allergies,” she sniffled.
nothing would ever happen to her, because anyone who dares even look at the niece of the morningstar fallen angel who was also the daughter of the infamous radio demon, would receive hell served on a golden platter without any remorse or time for rebuttal.
“it may have been inconvenient timing to have my contractions,” you murmur to alastor once you two are finally home and alone with your baby. “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“i’m glad that you’re ok, darling.”
“mm, thank you, alastor.”
“you shouldn’t thank me for worrying about you. it’s only natural for me to do so, no?” he says.
“now, i have to take care of two, but i wouldn’t have it any other way either.”
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enha-stars · 3 months
Text
✧ Invisible String — Soulmate AU
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Pairing: non-idol!jay x fem!reader (fluff)
Summary: In a world where Soulmates exist, you never truly cared about the phenomenon. It would happen, and you would have no control over it. But when you visit your aunt in the winter, you realize that having a Soulmate isn’t so bad. Not when he’s so perfect for you.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, some swearing, suggestive, fluff, the smallest amount of angst if you squint (wc: 9.2k)
Soulmate Masterlist
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The cold February air hugs you tight, kissing your cheeks softly as it paints your face cold. If you had known that it would be this chilly, you would have dressed warmer. 
But you didn’t know, because no one told you. 
It was a surprise trip your parents had planned, wanting to take a break from your mundane, ordinary lives. So they packed up the car and drove two hours south, stopping only when they reached your aunt’s driveway. 
Now, you were waiting on the sidewalk for your cousin. She had run in to grab her purse. Unconsciously, you rubbed the small J on your right wrist. Although you didn’t necessarily care for your Soulmate as much as everyone else did, you still found it slightly comforting.
Knowing he was out there. 
“Sorry!” Your cousin tumbled out of the front door, heaving. “Sorry. Your mom kept handing me money and my mom kept telling me not to take it.” She looked up at you, flushed and smiling. 
You grinned, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Both your mothers, being sisters, often did things like this. It was funny to everyone else, but serious for them. You usually waited them out, knowing there was no point until they gave up. 
You waved your hand in dismissal, instantly dropping it. “Let’s go?” Your cousin had pitched the idea of going to the famous, local music restaurant and you jumped at the idea. You really couldn’t stand another family game night. 
You strolled down the road side by side as she caught you up on everything. You really did miss her. Being the same age, she always understood you. She knew of your impassiveness and you knew of her obsession. 
“Guess who found their Soulmate,” she asked you, her eyes wide. You laughed before you bit your lip in thought. You knew most of her friends, having grown up alongside her before your family moved. 
You shrugged, opting for her to just tell you. “No idea. Who is it?” 
She clapped her hands. “Heeseung!” At your raised eyebrows, she laughed. “I know, right? He went out with his parents last week and she was the hostess there. They’re actually really cute.” 
You nodded in surprise, a warm surge of something in your chest. It always happened when you heard of others finding their Soulmate. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for them. He was looking, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He kinda gave up but I guess fate had other plans.” She eyed you before glancing at your wrist, the one you were still rubbing. 
“What about you?” She tried to keep the intrigue out of her voice but you could see it in her eyes. She really wanted you to find your Soulmate, but you weren’t necessarily eager. She had found her Soulmate as soon as she turned eighteen, having been friends with him for years. 
You shrugged before dropping your wrist. “You know me. I’m not looking. If he finds me then I guess that’s it.”
She frowned, pursing her lips. “Y/n, you don’t have to sound so… defeated about it. It’s a good thing. It’s a beautiful thing.” She rubbed her wrist, the red S glowing. Before, she used to be very adamant about finding your Soulmate. But when you explained to her that not everyone grows up with their Soulmate, she understood. She was extremely lucky. 
You rolled your eyes, having heard this conversation many times before. “I know. It’s just… it makes me uncomfortable, you know? I’m just supposed to trust that this man is perfect for me?”
Your cousin nodded in understanding, because she did understand. You had always been the one who asked questions and wanted to remain independent. A lot of people were like you. It was hard to comprehend that the universe created two people perfect for each other. 
“Just,” she sighed as you neared the restaurant, “don’t push it away, okay? Don’t run from it. From what I’ve seen and gone through, it’s a really beautiful process. It’s like breathing for the first time.”
You nodded, opening the door for her. “I’m not against it. I’m just not super for it either. I’m just… indifferent. Yeah,” you smiled. “Indifferent.” 
She laughed before fixing her coat. She had texted her friends to meet at the restaurant and you were excited. You liked all her friends and some of them were really good singers and attractive. It had been a while since you had seen them, years for some, and you knew you would have a good time with them. You always did. 
Walking into the restaurant, you inhaled the sweet scent of wood and whiskey. Your eyes wandered, taking in the cabin-like furniture of the establishment before glancing at the bar, then at the stage. A band played their music while people sat and listened, some singing along and some just enjoying the atmosphere. This was your first time here since you became an adult, and you now understood why everyone loved it. It was just up your alley, dark and comfortable. 
Your cousin grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her friends, smiling and waving at them. You laughed at her excitement. She was more excited for you to see them than she was. She immediately made her way to Sunghoon, kissing him passionately. The day they had both turned eighteen changed everything. The only reason you had high expectations was because of them. 
They were truly perfect for each other. 
All her friends waved and greeted you both loudly, smiling. “You guys made it!” You smiled at Heeseung, having known him for years. He smiled at you before side-hugging you. He looked good. His eyes shined brighter and he had a permanent smile etched onto his lips. He patted your back before bear hugging your cousin. 
You greeted everyone else, hugging those you were close with and smiling at those you weren’t. Some faces you recognized; Jake and Jungwon. They greeted you warmly, glad you had come tonight. 
There was a man you didn’t recognize and you smiled at him as he introduced himself. “I’m Sunoo. It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.” 
You laughed, finding him adorable. He had bright eyes and his black hair fell to his eyes. “Only good things, I hope.”
Sunghoon threw his arm around Sunoo and grinned at you, his fangs making an appearance. “Now, Y/n, you know that’s impossible.”
You grinned before slapping his shoulder. “I’m not completely terrible.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Say that to the hole in my wall.”
At his words, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped to the floor. Sunoo laughed in disbelief, slapping Sunghoo’s chest. “She’s the one who put the hole in your wall?” 
Sunghoon nodded, not looking displeased about it at all. In fact, he looked elated. 
You grimaced. “I can’t believe you haven’t gotten that fixed yet. It’s been years.”
“It’s been one.”
You threw your hands up in shame, a sheepish smile on your face. “Okay, true. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know your walls were so weak.” 
Sunoo stared at you both, back and forth before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, what happened?”
You dropped your head when Heeseung threw his arm around you, grinning. “Are we talking about Y/n’s famous misadventures?” 
You shook your head as Sunoo and Sunghoon nodded. You hid your face in your hands as Heeseung and Sunghoon told Sunoo the story of you trying to do a handstand in his basement when you fell over, your foot crashing into the wall, making a hole in the center of the wall. 
You sighed and dropped your head back as the three laughed, a slow smile creeping onto your face at the sound. It was nice, being surrounded by jazz music and the laughter of your friends.
At the sound of laughter, your cousin, Jake, and Jungwon make their way over to you. You smiled at them as the other three lost their mind, howling over other mishaps you kept finding yourself in. You truly had a knack of getting into weird situations when you were in this town. 
“I’ll fix that hole in your wall for you,” you said. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you as his laughter turned into heavy breathing. “I’m serious. I know how.”
Your cousin nodded, resting her hand on your shoulder. She was so happy you were here with her, with her friends. With your friends. “She’s really good,” she agreed. “Y/n fixes up both our houses.” She narrows her eyes at Sunghoon and he crumbles.
Sunghoon crosses his arms. “Alright. How much?”
You shook your head. “Never bring up that story again?”
Jake laughed. “But it’s such a good story. One of our favourites, actually.”
Before you could answer, Jungwon smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have more stories to tell about Y/n before this week is over.”
At your deadpan look, Jungwon and Jake laughed before you all found your seats at the table. “I’m never coming back here. There’s a reason we moved and it’s because of all of you.” At your pout, Sunghoon pats your head. You allowed it only because of your cousin and the way she smiled up at him, all foolish and in love. 
“Alright, Y/n. If you fix the hole in my wall, I’ll never bring up the story again.” You both stared at each other before shaking on it. 
“By the way,” Heeseung said. “This deal only applies to Sunghoon.”
You smiled at Heeseung. “Die.”
He laughed before checking his phone. A stupid smile took over and you had a feeling that his Soulmate had texted him. You glanced at his wrist and stared at the red letter. That’s what happened when you found your soulmate and touched them for the first time. The black letter turned red and remained red. 
“Where’s Jay and Riki?” Your cousin asked Heeseung, passing a glass of water to you. You didn’t know who Jay or Riki were, but you assumed they would make an appearance before the end of the night. 
“Riki’s at practice and asked Jay to stay with him. They’ll be here soon.”
Your cousin nodded before leaning into you. “What do you wanna eat? I was thinking of onion rings.” You scanned the menu. “Hm. What about calamari?” Your cousin nodded, knowing you both were going to share, regardless. 
After the orders of food and drinks had been placed, Jake leaned back in his seat. “So, what’s up, Y/n? What have you been up to? It’s been what, a few months?”
You nodded, sipping on your water as the conversations picked up around you. “Yeah. It’s been a while. I’m good! Just finishing up school and working. Honestly, my life is pretty boring right now.” 
Jake and Sunoo nodded in understanding. Jake glanced at your wrist before smirking. “So, any news on the Soulmate?”
You rolled your eyes and showed him your wrist, your black letter on clear display. “Nope.” You eyed their wrists. “What about you guys?”
Jake and Sunoo both showed their wrists, their black letters vibrant against their fair skin. You watched as Jake lowered his wrist but Sunoo stared at his own, a twisted frown on his pink lips. He traced the letter once before dropping his wrist, staring at his water. 
You wanted to ask but you only met him today. When it came to Soulmates, some were more sensitive than others. It was a centuries old phenomenon but it never got easier to accept. You had an inkling that Sunoo was more sensitive than others. Instead, you smiled at him when he caught your eye. 
You tuned into the other conversation happening at the table and instantly sat straighter. Heeseung was recounting the night he met his Soulmate and you listened carefully. Although it happened all the time around you, the stories always made you melt. The ice beneath your exterior slowly breaking. 
“And then I touched her hand. I just brushed her hand but my entire body was on fire. Then our marks began to burn and they turned red. After that, well, we didn’t talk much.” He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. Everyone laughed and your cousin shoved his shoulder, mumbling about having decorum. 
Only to have Sunghoon raise his eyebrow at his Soulmate, smirking. “We didn’t do much talking either, babe.” You wanted to gag just for the sake of it. 
“Did the burning hurt?” You furrowed your eyebrows. It was always different with certain people. Sometimes it burned in a cool, tingly way and sometimes it burned the way warm water on a cold day burned. For your cousin, she said it felt like a bucket of cold water had poured over her on a hot day. 
Heeseung shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “Not at all. It burned the way an itch that you’ve finally scratched burns. It was like relief settled in my bones.”
The other listened carefully, despite having heard all of this before. Heeseung was lucky because he was young. Your letter appeared when you turned eighteen, and many people spent all their twenties finding their Soulmates. Now, he was the third person in their friend group to have found their lover. 
“And where is she?” Your cousin asked, shoving a piece of calamari in her mouth. Sunghoon smiled fondly at her, his hand resting on her thigh. They sat pressed together and you almost wondered why she wasn’t sitting on his lap but chose to ignore that thought. 
“She’s working tonight. Begged her to take the night off but it was too late.” His eyes were saddened but then he was smiling. “I’m seeing her later tonight.” 
The rest of the night was spent drinking and talking, with the occasional performance by Heeseung and Jake. The night was filled with warmth; constant laughter and conversation flowed with the help of drinks and snacks. Your cheeks felt warm and your stomach was full. This was the most fun you had in a while and you were so thankful. 
As it neared midnight, you stood from your seat, blinking the haze from your eyes. Your cousin and Sunghoon, along with Heeseung and his Soulmate, had been on the makeshift dance floor for a while. All the couples swayed to the music, carelessly in love. You had spent the better part of your evening with Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo. They made amazing company and you couldn’t stop laughing. You stumbled and Jake reached out, steadying you. You smiled at him before walking towards the dance floor.
You nudged Sunghoon’s shoulder and grinned at him when he raised an eyebrow at you. You stared at him before you slapped his forehead. Your mind was a bit fuzzy from all the music and the ambiance. “Can I have her back? We should get home.”
Sunghoon groaned into your cousin’s hair, refusing to stop swaying. Your cousin laughed before pulling away from him, kissing his cheek. “She’s right, baby. We gotta go.” 
Heeseung caught your eye and waved at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss and his Soulmate smiled at you before they went back to dancing.
Sunghoon sighed before nodding, he flicked your forehead before pulling you both back to the table. You said your goodbyes, kissing and hugging the boys. Jake ruffled your hair before making you promise to hangout with them again. Jungwon kissed your cheek and told you to let him know when you planned to fix Sunghoon’s wall. Sunoo hugged you and asked for your number. Your cousin promised to make another group chat, one with everyone. You smiled at Riki, finding the teenager adorable. You met him today but you already loved him. He grinned at you, giving you a thumbs-up. 
Sunghoon drove you both back home, mumbling about curfews and the time. You barely listened as you sat in the back, staring out the window. It had been a good day. A really good day.  
Parking in your driveway, you stepped out of the car, blowing Sunghoon a kiss and flipping him off. You chose to ignore the makeout session as you stepped into your aunt’s home, hoping everyone was asleep. 
They were.
After a few minutes, your cousin stumbled through the front door, frowning at the ledge she always tripped over. You both giggled before trying to quietly make your way to her bedroom. 
You both passed out side by side, makeup only wiped off and clothes thrown aside. It will be a good week. 
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Jay slowly opened the basement door with his foot, balancing the tray carefully on his left hand as he adjusted his sweater with his right hand. He thought this was all unnecessary but Heeseung insisted, and well, he had a hard time refusing him. 
Heeseung had chastised Jay for skipping the other night instead of showing up with Riki. The younger boy, while only allowed on one side of the restaurant, showed up despite being exhausted. Jay had no excuse besides not being in the mood. So, here he was. Holding a tray full of all their favourite finger foods because he was pathetic. 
Sighing, he slowly walked down the stairs. He had told Sunghoon so many times to let him add carpet to the stairs but he always refused. Something about authenticity and aesthetic. Jay could hear their chatter and his small frown curled upwards. Despite his sighing, he was happy. It was cold out today but the sun shone brightly and all his friends were together. 
As soon as Jay stepped onto the cold basement floor, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He told Riki and Jungwon to help Sunghoon cleanup but it didn’t seem like they did. The faint smell of Chinese food lingered in the air and he sighed. He’d have to open a window. 
Jake spotted him first and threw his head back in relief, his hand on his stomach. “Thank god, man. I’m starving.” 
Jay raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down on Sunghoon’s only table. “You’re always starving, Jake.” 
Jake only shrugged before jumping up, walking to the tray without a care. Heeseung laughed at him and Sunoo swatted Jake’s bottom as he passed. Sunghoon lifted his eyes from his phone before frowning at Jake. “Don’t spill any crumbs.”
They all watched as Jake chomped down on a slider, crumbs falling on the floor. Sunghoon sighed in exasperation as Jungwon laughed. There were truly some habits that could not be helped. Jay sank down on the empty bean bag next to Riki and stretched his legs. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist, his finger tracing the black letter. 
“Jay,” Heeseung called. Jay lifted his head and looked at Heeseung. “You honestly should have showed up the other night.” Jungwon and Sunoo nodded in agreement, snacking on the plates Jake made them. Heeseung thanked Jake before looking back at Jay. “You would have loved Y/n.”
Jay had been hearing your name quite frequently the past couple of days. You were Sunghoon’s Soulmate’s cousin, someone who left town a few months before he came. He had heard your name a few times over the years, somehow always missing you. Every time you were in town, he was preoccupied. To him, you existed in the fantastical stories that Sunghoon and Jake told him. 
He glanced at the hole in the wall next to him, grinning at the story Sunghoon loved to tell. He almost wanted to punch the wall to see how weak the drywall truly was, but he respected himself too much to go through with it. 
“My bad, Hyung,” Jay ran his hand through his hair. “I was honestly exhausted and would not have made good company. Let’s plan something else in a few days.” 
Heeseung nodded, going back to playing the game with Jake. Soft music played as everyone lounged around, basking in the quietness of the afternoon. They didn’t get many moments like this. Not with everyone’s hectic schedule. 
“When is Y/n coming over to fix the wall, Hyung?” Riki asked Sunghoon, controller in his hands and crackers in his mouth. Jay slowly turned his head to Sunghoon, eyebrows raised and lips parted. 
Sunghoon pursed his lips. “I think after six? That’s what she said yesterday.” 
“What?” Jay stared at Sunghoon, mouth agape. “I’ve asked you for months to let me fix that hole! And you’re letting Y/n do it?” 
Sunghoon shrugged. “Yeah. She asked.” At Jay’s unimpressed look, Sunghoon smiled. “Plus, the missus told me to.” At his confession, Jay dropped his shoulders. There was nothing to argue if Soulmates were involved. 
Still, he frowned. He could be a bit annoyed by it. He knew he could have fixed the hole in less than thirty minutes, but Sunghoon never let him. He said it was funnier, and it was a nice reminder, but Jay simply thought he was crazy. 
“Y/n was nice,” Sunoo mused. Jay shifted his eyes from the screen to him, listening. “She’d never met me and tried her best to engage me in conversation. Plus,” he smiled, “she didn’t even ask about my Soulmate.”
Jay raised an eyebrow at Sunoo’s words, slightly impressed. Sunoo wasn’t the most subtle when it came to his feelings, so he often got many questions. Jay was just glad his friend was comfortable and had a good time. 
“You guys should have seen her last year,” Heeseung laughed. “Before the wall incident, she figured out a way onto my roof. It was the craziest thing I had ever seen. One second we’re all in my garage and then she’s on the roof.” 
Jake and Jungwon burst into laughter, clearly remembering the incident like it happened yesterday. Sunghoon grinned at his phone as he typed away, and Sunoo smiled at what Jay could only assume was his imagination, trying to picture it. 
Riki pouted at the television. “I wish I got to see that,” he mumbled. 
“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded, still primarily focused on his phone. “She’s a good one. She’s not super into the whole Soulmate thing, though.” 
Jay’s eyes widened a fraction before he bit into a cracker. He didn’t know many people who weren’t absolutely smitten with the idea of Soulmates. Although he knew it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure about it. He didn’t even know who he was, so how could the universe make someone for him? Who could truly stand him and his flaws? Who could look at him and decide they loved him anyways? 
Jungwon nodded, munching away. “Yeah, she mentioned it the other night. It’s kind of interesting, actually.” He looked at Jay. “She thinks like you.”
Jay rolled his eyes, snorting. “Oh, so she has common sense?” He dodged the pillow Heeseung threw at him and grinned before looking back at Jungwon. “Anyone with common sense would find it a bit weird.” 
Immediately, the other six boys in the room shook their heads. They were used to Jay’s rambling and thoughts. In retrospect, they could understand where he was coming from. Jay had grown up relatively lonely, and so he learned to be independent and capable very early on. 
Jokingly, Jungwon had joked about Jay and Y/n being Soulmates to Heeseung. The older boy only slapped his shoulder and shook his head. He knew neither party would appreciate the joke.
“Everyone knows you’re a romantic at heart, Jay.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You can drop the tough boy exterior. We won’t tell anyone.”
Jay laughed before throwing the pillow at Jake, hitting him right in the chest. He grinned at Jake’s baffled expression before dropping his shoulders. “Shut up.” 
The boys laughed. As much as they liked to tease Jay, they all loved him very much. He was a busy guy and any time they got with him was precious. Riki shifted his beanbag and laid his head in Jay’s lap. Sunghood said nothing as he picked up Jay’s empty plate and passed him a full one, knowing that Jay sometimes got too busy to eat properly. 
The next few hours were spent leisurely; alternating between playing games and having weird, in-depth conversations about random topics. Jay’s cheeks hurt from laughing. His sweater had come off hours ago and now he laid on the floor, Jungwon draped over him as they watched Heeseung and Riki play an intense game of Twister. 
Jay glanced at his watch and cursed, gaining the attention of Jungwon and Sunoo. “What is it, Hyung?” Sunoo asked, eyes on Heeseung’s trembling form. If Heeseung lost, Riki got to tell Heeseung’s Soulmate one secret. If Riki lost, he had to yell Heeseung’s name at his next game before he scored. The stakes were extremely high.
“Shit,” Jay shuffled upwards, smiling apologetically at Jungwon’s irritated look. “I gotta go, guys. I promised dad I’d help him.” He stood up, shrugging on his sweater.
Sunghoon frowned, glancing at his phone. “It’s only five forty-five. Don’t you want to meet Y/n? You should stay for a bit.” 
Jay did want to meet you, and he wanted to see just how good you were at carpentry, but he had committed to his dad. Part of him didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and waste time, but the softer part of him refused. He smiled at Sunghoon. “I’ll be back. I’ll try and stop by as soon as I’m done. I’ll keep you updated.”
He pocketed his phone and laughed as the other boys yelled out their goodbyes, all exaggerated and gross. Jake even grabbed his face and kissed him right on the forehead, which ended with Jay pushing him off, groaning as he wiped his cheek. 
“See you later, Jay!” Heeseung yelled, trying not to fall over. He lifted his head and grinned. “Thanks for the snacks, by the way. You’re such a good malewife.” 
Jay blinked as Jungwon and Riki shook with laughter. Heeseung often called Jay terms like that but it never made it easier to hear. Jay wanted to walk over and push both Riki and Heeseung over, making them both lose, but he just rolled his eyes and flipped them off. 
“See you.” 
Twenty minutes after Jay left, you and your cousin parked the car in Sunghoon’s driveway. You were excited as you reached in the back, grabbing all the tools you needed. You had taken an interest in carpentry after your mother had damaged her wall and didn’t have the heart to tell your father. After that, you realized it was pretty easy to do. 
Plus, it made you feel better about yourself. You didn’t need a man to do these things for you. You were fully capable and it eased the tension in your shoulders. A small, miniscule part of you wondered if all the skills you had gained were simply to compensate for everything else you lacked. 
Your cousin shut your car door as you balanced everything in your uncle’s toolbox. He didn’t even ask when you declared that you needed his tools. He simply sighed and told you to go crazy. 
Your cousin rang the doorbell and the door was instantly pulled open by Sunghoon, his entire body shaking with excitement. He pulled her into a long, passionate kiss and you just stood behind her, looking up. You cleared your throat once, then twice.
“Ahem,” you coughed. This time, your cousin heard you and pulled away, laughing at the pout on Sunghoon’s lips. She kissed him once more before throwing you an apologetic smile. She simply pushed past him and waved to you to follow.
You snickered at Sunghoon’s lovestruck expression as you walked by him, pulling him out of the trance he was under. He caught up to you and bumped shoulders with you, smiling at you. He glanced at the tools in your arm and shook his head, not wanting to even ask. 
You followed your cousin down the basement stairs and frowned at the uneven bumps and screws. When your feet landed on the cold floor, you turned back to the stairs. “You should really get carpet on those stairs, Sunghoon. It’s dangerous to have such uneven steps.”
The chatter behind you quietened and Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. You turned back to face him and found them all staring at you, curiosity swimming in their eyes. Your eyes drifted from Jake to Riki and you frowned. “What? Are you super sensitive about your stairs too?”
Sunghoon quietly shook his head, tilting it in thought. “No, you’re just not the first person to tell me that.”
You sighed in relief and shrugged. “Oh. Yeah, obviously.” You eyed the stairs again. “Those are some weird stairs.” You didn’t pay attention to the eyes on you as you walked further into the basement, putting down all the tools by the wall. Everyone else shared a curious look before going back to doing whatever they were doing “So who else has mentioned the stairs?”
“Jay,” Jake answered, shoving a piece of fruit in his mouth. “He’s always talking about them.”
You nodded, slowly understanding this Jay character. “Are you guys sure that Jay is real? All this talk and I have yet to meet him.”
Heeseung laughed, slapping his thigh. “Oh, he’s real. Very real.” 
Your cousin raised an eyebrow at Sunghoon. “Where is he?” Sunghoon shrugged, kissing her forehead. “Had to help his dad with something.” 
You turned around, smiling at everyone. You ignored the way your cousin and Sunghoon took up the whole couch and walked to Jungwon and Riki, sitting in between them. They hugged you and you ruffled Riki’s hair, holding yourself back from pinching his cheek. You all watched as Jake and Sunoo played an intense game of twister. 
You quickly fixed the hole in the wall, a bit nervous because of all the eyes on you. It didn’t help that everyone refused to let you hold the drywall knife even though you had only had one mishap with a knife years ago. Once it was done, Sunghoon nodded in approval and you felt accomplished.
Later, the basement was filled with laughter and music, a comfortable blanket of warmth covering the coldness of the evening. You finished your slider before looking up at Jungwon. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Who made all the snacks?” You knew how far Heeseung and Sunghoon’s skills went, and this seemed to surpass them.
“Oh, that would be Jay Hyung. He’s our resident chef.”
You nodded, in thought. You still had to meet Jay. He was supposed to come the other night but he never showed up. You thought you knew him, though, with how often the boys mentioned him. You had heard of Jay before, too. Somehow, you always seemed to miss him. He almost didn’t seem real. Despite Heeseung confirming that he was. 
“He’s a really good cook,” you shoved a dumpling in your mouth. You weren’t the best cook, despite your constant efforts. You could follow a recipe closely enough, but you didn’t have that natural talent that you assumed Jay had. 
After you had lost the game of Twister with your cousin, you sat on the sofa with Riki and Sunghoon. You leaned into Sunghoon and he wrapped his arm around you. To him, you were like a cousin. Someone he didn’t have to see or talk to all the time, but knew that when you did, things would be fun. Riki laid slumped against you. He didn’t usually get comfortable so quickly with strangers but he already knew you from the stories, and you thought he was just the cutest.
You watched as your cousin tried beating Sunoo and Jake at Mario Kart, but all you could do was laugh. She was horrible at it, but she was smiling and having fun. You knew Heeseung was just itching to grab the controller out her hand and you parted your lips to make a comment when your wrist hurt.
You glanced down at your right wrist and your eyes widened when the slight stinging pain turned into something warmer. You gripped your wrist and held your breath when the J on your wrist turned a solid, dark blue. You gasped at the colour, immediately standing upright. You caught the attention of everyone in the room and they stared at you.
You glanced at your cousin with wide, frightened eyes. What was happening? You rubbed the letter, wondering if you were seeing this. No, no, this can’t be.
“Y/n?” She dropped the controller, slowly standing up. She walked to you and grabbed your wrist, gasping at the blue letter. Suddenly, everything around you became quiet and loud at the same time. Everyone stood up and surrounded you, eyes wide as they stared at your wrist. 
Heeseung laughed, biting his fist in excitement. Sunoo and Riki shared a look of disbelief. Jungwon could only gape with Jake, neither hadn’t actually witnessed a tethering in real life. 
Your cousin said your name softly, pulling you out of your haze. She smiled at you and grabbed your other hand. “Y/n. Listen to me,” she squeezed your wrists. “Do you know what this means?”
Numb, you could only nod. When your Soulmate is close, your letter turns blue. The two letters then tether together a string of fate that tries to pull both Soulmates together. The string is invisible to everyone but them, and is inevitable once it has appeared.
“Can you see the string?”
You blinked and looked down at your wrist, eyes widening as a blue string appeared in front of your eyes, connecting your letter J with someone else’s wrist. Your eyes followed the blues hue until you glanced at the basement stairs. 
“This is so exciting,” Riki whispers, earning a shove from Sunghoon. He could see the turmoil on your face. The hesitance and the need that swirled in your eyes. Any second now, and you would begin to–
Breathing heavily, you yanked your wrists from your cousin's hold and booked it upstairs, running towards your Soulmate. Your cousin stared at where you once stood before she yelled your name, running after you. Sunghoon and Heeseung followed, calling both your names.
Panicked, Jake grabbed the car keys and ran after them. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki followed him, all four of them scrambling up the stairs to the front door. Jake watched as the four of you ran down the street and decided it would be better to have one car. He shoved the three younger boys in the back and quickly pulled out of the driveway. 
You ran as fast as you could. There was a red car driving ahead of you, and you knew it belonged to your Soulmate. It had not gotten far when you ran out the front door, but now it was leaving you in its wake.
Blood pumped to your head as your lungs burned. You could hear your cousin, Sunghoon, and Heeseung behind you but you didn’t care. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, all that you knew was that you needed to see him. To touch him. It was as if a centuries old feeling had overtaken you, throwing all common sense out the window as primal need and want swirled inside of you.
Abruptly, the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. The blue string tightened as you neared the car, out of breath and sweaty. Slowing down, you began heaving in deep breaths when you were only twenty meters away from the car. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon caught up to you, huffing and sweaty. Heeseung put his hand on your shoulder as the three of you caught your breath, your cousin now speed walking to you. His eyes narrowed at the familiar license plate and he shared a look with Sunghoon, both holding their tongues. 
Your eyes were focused solely on the driver side of the red car. You didn’t care about the model or the plate, just the person who drove it. Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest you could feel it in your fingernails. You were still out of breath but it had nothing to do with running. Your Soulmate sat in that car and you had no choice but to meet him. 
Your cousin reached you and put her hand on your other shoulder. She was excited and nervous but she could feel the tension rolling off of you in waves. She squinted at the car and gasped, immediately being shushed by Heeseung and Sunghoon. Somewhere behind you, a car had been parked. You could hear other voices join the cloud of noise in your mind. 
“Y/n,” Heeseung whispered. “Don’t be scared. I promise you that he’s a good guy. There’s nothing like meeting your soulmate for the first time.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Remember, he is perfect for you.” 
You nodded, tears in your eyes. You had imagined this scenario many times in your head but it was never real. You knew that realistically you had a Soulmate but you never expected to meet him so young. Now, with hundreds of emotions clashing inside you, the only one you could identify was longing. 
Slowly, you put one foot in front of the other until you slowly started getting closer to the car. You stopped after a few steps, hands shaking as you realized that only you were moving. You purse your lips at the thought of your Soulmate not wanting to meet you.
“He doesn’t want me,” you mumbled. You took a step back but your cousin’s chest stopped you. She stood directly behind you and held both your shoulders, a frown on her lips. “What? Y/n, of course he does. He’s probably just as nervous as you.” 
You shook your head, trying to ignore the blue string that looked so tempting, so inviting. “He’s not even moving.” You tugged your hand back, wincing when the letter burned for a second. “He doesn’t want me.”
“Dumbass,” Sunghoon whispered, rolling his eyes. Of all the moments he chose to be slow, this is what prevailed? Sunghoon wanted to drag him out of the car and shake him until he reached his senses. 
Heeseung grabbed a small pebble from the road and eyed it. He glanced at Sunghoon who only shrugged. Nodding to himself, Heeseung threw the pebble right at the car. You watched as the small stone hit the car’s back window with a quiet smack!
However small the stone, it did its job. You held your breath as the figure inside the car moved. You watched with wide, shiny eyes as he slowly opened the car door and stepped out. Your eyes travelled from his black boots up his dark blue jeans. You eyed the black sweater before you glanced at the side of his face. Your entire body shook and you audibly gasped when he slammed the door closed, turning to you.
Your shiny eyes met his dark brown ones and everything around you stopped. All the noise disappeared and the presence of others behind you no longer existed. It was just you and him. It was always going to be you and him.
Jay was frozen. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty as he tried to breathe. He had driven to Sunghoon’s house and parked, before he realized he forgot his phone at home. He pulled out of his driveway and began to drive when his wrist burned and the letter turned blue. In shock, he kept his foot on the pedal, unable to process anything.
It was only when he saw your figure in the rearview camera that he parked his car, breathing heavily. He blinked a few times, mouth dry, as he stared at you. You stood in front of him, hands trembling and so beautiful. He ignored the audience behind you, his sole focus on you. 
You were so beautiful, so perfect. His heart swelled in his chest and he was sure this wasn’t healthy. His lungs almost burst and his hands twitched. He needed to do something. He needed to see you up close, touch your face. This couldn’t be, Jay wanted to shout. She’s too pretty. 
You swallowed as you stared at him. He was beautiful. With his strong jaw and sharp eyebrows that were covered by his black hair. Your eyes trailed his face, memorizing the shape of his nose and lips and his broad shoulders. 
He looked so big and strong and yet so gentle, you almost collapsed. His tan skin made you want to kiss him, and the way he was staring at you, eyes wide and twinkly, made you think he wanted the same.
The blue string tightened and pulled you both into each other, impatient; you started moving towards him and he started moving towards you. Neither of you had any control over your limbs as fate pulled you both together, space lessening. 
Jay broke into a run, needing to breathe you in. He almost called out to you when you began running towards him, wanting you to save your breath because he was coming to you. Breathless, you both stopped in front of each other, eyes locked on the other. 
You were shorter than him, and when you looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with trepidation and excitement, Jay’s knees buckled. You smiled at him, at the closeness, breathing in his scent. He was so handsome, masculine features mixed with soft, angelic ones. At your smile, all of Jay’s initial worries melted. As long as you smiled at him, he knew he would be okay. 
“Hi,” you whispered. Your voice, soft and anxious, brushed against his chin. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his sharp jaw. Your blue letter itched, the need to turn red weighed heavily on both of you. 
Jay smiled and you melted, all your insecurities and indifference dissipating. How could you have had any qualms about this? About him? He was perfect to you, from his smile to his trembling hands. 
“Hi, pretty.” Jay inched closer to you, tips of his shoes touching yours. Your cheeks felt warm at the term, knowing he genuinely meant it. He was staring at you with so much passion, heat infused into eyes. 
Slowly, you reached up. Your right hand slowly inching towards your face. Jay watched you closely, wanting to paint a perfect picture of you in his mind. His eyes briefly glanced at the blue J on your wrist and his smile deepened. That’s right, he thought. You were his and he was yours. 
Gently, you cupped his cheek and you both winced in pleasure as your wrists began to burn. He leaned into your hand and it felt like all the stress you had been harboring for years had lifted off your chest. Your heart felt lighter and fuller and when you breathed, it felt like you had taken your first breath of fresh air. 
Jay closed his eyes as his wrist burned. He nuzzled his face into your warm hand, tears pricking his eyes as all of his hardships and insecurities melted away. He suddenly felt like he could rule the world, like he deserved everything good the world had to offer. 
He felt like he deserved you; someone so beautiful and soft, with a kind smile and wide eyes. 
Jay lifted his right wrist, keeping it parallel to yours. You both watched as the letters turned permanently red, something warm swirling in your stomachs. Once the burning lessened, you tried pulling your hand away but Jay caught your wrist, keeping your hand on his face. He lifted your other hand to his face and you grinned when his eyes fluttered shut. 
You rubbed his jaw, silently impressed by the sharpness. Everything felt warm and electric. You could feel your insides turn to mush when he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up. His lips looked so soft, so plump. Without thinking, you ran your thumb across his bottom lip, transfixed by the pinkness. Jay almost whimpered at the feeling, his entire face warming up. 
With an urgency Jay had never felt before, his hands gently came up to your waist. His eyes squinted in question and you nodded, needing his hands on you. His strong hands rested on your waist, pulling you in closer to him.
“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Jay’s voice brushed against your lips, “but I might pass away if I don’t kiss you.” His eyes were filled with adoration, desperation leaking into his hold. 
You nodded, pulling his face closer to yours. “Kiss me,” you begged. You didn’t even mind the audience behind you, knowing that they didn’t matter. Nothing did, not when his lips hovered over yours. 
Jay smiled as he pressed his lips against yours. You gasped into his mouth, a wave of emotions crashing into you, pushing you further into him. The warmth in your chest erupted, spreading over your whole body as he kissed you. His lips softly pressed against yours and he pulled away. Before you could think, you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him back, slamming your lips against his. 
You could feel his heart beating and knew yours was beating just as loudly. Jay pulled you flush against him, kissing you back just as hard. He had never felt like this before. He had never wanted to fall to his knees in devotion the way he wanted to right now. He could have if your grip on him wasn’t so strong.
Everything inside you begged for your hands to roam, to touch his body. But you couldn’t. Not yet. You didn’t even know his name. With a heavy heart, you pulled away, panting into his mouth. Your eyes were still closed when he rested his forehead against yours, both breathing the other in. 
“I called this,” a familiar voice said behind you. 
Jay opened his eyes first and couldn’t help but smile at your expression; lips plump and eyes shut. You looked breathtaking. He almost pressed another kiss to your inviting lips but his eyes glanced to the side and he froze. All his friends, all your friends, were staring at him with goofy smiles and mischievous eyes. 
Slowly, you opened your eyes and Jay looked back at you. You smiled shyly at him before looking down. He still held you close to his chest, his hands warm on your waist. Your hand was still gripping his sweater and cupping his cheek. You didn’t have it in you to let go. 
“Everyone’s staring,” you whispered. “Aren’t they?” 
Jay nodded, a soft smile on his face. You wanted to kiss it. Your heart couldn’t handle it. It was such a beautifully sculpted smile, the edges of his lips turned upwards as his eyes shone. “They are.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at them. “Do you want me to tell them to go?”
You shook your head. You knew you were still in the middle of the street but if you were alone with him, you may get yourself in trouble. He was too much. You didn’t trust yourself enough, part of you knew that you wouldn’t mind if he began to strip you. “It’s okay. They wouldn’t leave, anyways.”
Jay tilted his head, his head filled with clouds of desire and affection. He licked his lips and tried not to smirk when your eyes fell on them, wide with curiosity. “I know I should have asked before, but what’s your name, pretty?” 
You laughed, smiling in embarrassment. If Jay could have bottled the sound, he would have. If he could have bottled it, he would have worn it around his neck, wanting to keep it close to his heart. He had heard many laughs over the years, but none that sounded as beautiful as yours. 
“Y/n,” you answered. You grazed his cheek with your thumb, not noticing the way his eyes widened. “My name’s Y/n.” You looked up at Jay and frowned at his surprised expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and you purse your lips. “What? What is it?”
“You’re Y/n? The Y/n?” 
Slowly, you nodded. “Yes? I’m sorry,” you pulled your head back, “you know who I am?”
Jay opened his mouth to answer but then paused. Disbelief bubbling in his chest. He glanced back at Sunghoon and Heeseung’s pleased faces and realized he hadn’t answered you. Shaking his head, he laughed. You simply watched him in confusion as laughter took over his body, his eyes tearing up. 
“I’m Jay,” he finally answered. He watched as the information processed in your mind, watched as your lips parted and your eyes grew. You stared at him like he was a magical creature and he wondered if he was looking at you the same way. 
“You’re Jay?” You grabbed his chin, turning his head back and forth, trying to sear his face into your mind. “As in, the Jay who always complains about the stairs and cooks?”
Amused, Jay simply nods. You both stare at each other in wonder, hundreds of emotions brimming underneath the surface while unspoken words sit in between you. All those years that you had missed each other, all those occasions that could have been. 
“So, isn’t this interesting?” 
You broke your eye contact with Jay and turned at the sound of Heeseung’s pleased voice. You smiled as they all walked up to you, happiness shining in their eyes. Jay rolled his eyes before he stepped beside you, his arm still around your waist. 
Your cousin grinned at you and you smiled back, still in shock. She stepped towards you and you moved away from Jay, wrapping your arms around her. She hugged you tight, whispering quiet nothings to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears on the verge of spilling. She pulled away and you wiped a tear that escaped her. No words were exchanged because you already knew. You could feel it. You understood it all now. She simply kissed your cheek and smiled at Jay. 
Sunghoon ruffled your hair and you frowned, slapping his hand. He grinned at you before bumping his shoulder against Jay’s. Jungwon and Sunoo hugged you, congratulating you. Jake pressed a soft kiss to your head, telling you how proud he was. Riki was crying and you hugged him. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, as the true emotional baby he was. 
You teased Riki, whispering quiet phrases of encouragement before he let you go. This was the first time he had watched Soulmates meet and it was beautiful. He wanted to find his own so badly. 
Quietly, Jay stepped beside you, his hand resting on your lower back. He needed you close to him. While he appreciated all his friends and their teasing and jabs, he really just wanted you alone. He wanted to get to know you, to know you beyond the stories he had heard. He wanted to memorize your taste and your smile. He wanted to begin his forever. 
You smiled at him and realized that his eyes were bright with something else. Something dangerous. You turned your head, facing Heeseung as Jungwon recalled his joke from the other night. Your entire body felt warm and you tried to ignore his body heat beside you. 
Your cousin, being the best person to exist, noticed the quietness between you both and she nudged Sunghoon. With a single raised eyebrow, he understood her unspoken words and nodded. He cleared his throat, interrupting Heeseung. “Maybe we should give them some space? Jake, let's take your car back.” He winked at Jay and winced when your cousin elbowed him. 
Jake nodded, understanding how important this moment was. He fetched his keys from his pocket and clapped his hands. “Okay! Everyone who’s not Jay or Y/n back to my car. Pick the laps you want to sit on.” 
You and Jay watched as the seven of them walked away, arguing and laughing. You stood in the middle of the road until you could no longer see Jake’s care. Your breathing had gotten deeper, a bubble of anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. 
Jay turned his head and looked at you, suddenly nervous. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, smiling. “Have you eaten? Do you want to get something to eat? Or drink?” 
Your smile widens at his words. He was just as nervous as you were. It calms you down a bit, knowing you didn’t have to pretend with him. “I could eat.” You admit. Jay’s eyes soften and he nods. He slowly pulls you to his car and you follow him, nervous. 
“I can’t believe you almost drove away from me,” you teased. Jay’s ears turned red and you laughed, finding him adorable. As you neared his car, Jay’s shoulders dropped. 
“I was nervous,” he admitted. “And a bit scared. I didn’t expect to find you like that.” 
You nodded in understanding because you did understand. Still, you purse your lips. “You’re not still nervous, are you?” You wanted to keep your own insecurities out of your tone but he caught them. “I mean, you’re not upset that you found me, are you?”
Jay stilled at your words. You didn’t even notice until your hand slightly grazed the roof of his car. You turned, only to find Jay in front of you. He stepped towards you and your back hit the side of his car. You looked up at him, surprised. He caged you in, arm on either side of you.
Your throat dried at his closeness and his eyes; gosh, his eyes. Dark and blown wide with fondness and desire. He dipped his head down to yours until his breath made your ear tingle. 
“Y/n, you have no idea how happy I am. My heart is about to burst out of my chest and I am one second away from bursting into tears.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I want to touch you all over, learn everything about you, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He pulled back, smiling gently at you as if he didn’t just ignite a fire in your whole body.
Your eyes shut at his words, knowing you had mistaken his hesitant demeanor. He watched as you breathed his scent in, wanting to coat yourself in his smell. The intensity of your want was killing you. Is this how it felt for all Soulmates? 
You opened your eyes and Jay almost fell to his knees at the need and want in your eyes. He felt the exact same way, but he wanted to be patient. He wanted to spend more time with you, learn more about you, before he made love to you. He wanted to be a gentleman, someone who you wouldn’t mind calling your Soulmate. 
Jay kissed you, smiling when you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pushed into you, wanting to feel every crevice of your body. Your hands pushed into his hair, pulling him closer to you. All you wanted was him. 
When you pulled at his hair, Jay pulled away, breathing heavily. He pressed a soft kiss to your pout, unable to help himself. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling when you kissed his cheek. 
“We have forever, love.” He kissed your nose. “Let’s take things slow. Let me treat you well.”
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a/n: its finally done! this is for the lovely @luvkpopp who requested soulmates! if you guys like this, i’m open to writing a soulmate au for all of hyung line!
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celiastjamesoscar · 7 months
Text
Wish I Knew You
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Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader, established relationship
Summary: Unofficial meant many things to people, but to college students it meant one thing: party. But unofficial takes a turn when you get into a fight, and Sam has to walk you home.
Warnings: swearing, destruction of property, breaking and entering, light mention of drugs, drinking
AN: based off of an idea I ‘stole’ from @p0rkbun, I love ya!
My Masterlist
Word Count: 3.5K
“I know it’s unofficial, but please, you guys, be safe. Okay?” Sam pleaded as she looked at the group of kids before her. Technically, they weren’t kids, but in her eyes, most of them would still be those kids she used to babysit. Well, all of them but you.
You met Sam through Anika after she moved to New York, and you were instantly in love even though she wouldn’t even spare you a glance most of the time. Those big, brown eyes that held years of pain and agony brought you so much comfort whenever she would look at you. Her lips never smiled, so you made it your life mission to make her smile, even if it was just for a mere moment. And when you did make her smile after you went on a drunken tangent about how Isaac Newton deserved to die a virgin and how Dr. Pepper is the best soda, she knew that she was in too deep.
Dammit to hell with getting accepted into the best universities the country had to offer and all those scholarships you had received that paid for your schooling at Blackmore University. None of those things compared to the feeling you got in your chest when you saw that beautiful smile for the first time. It seemed like your entire world had stopped rotating and began to revolve around the single smile that didn’t last for more than three seconds, but it meant more to you than anything else.
After the night, the two of you grew closer, and after enough dinners together, you two started dating. It took you forever to break down all of Sam’s walls, but when you did, it was the most rewarding thing you had ever done. On late nights after she had worked a double, the only thing Sam wanted to do was come home and sleep. But when she pushed open her apartment door and saw you standing awkwardly in the hallway with a goofy grin on your lips and a bottle of wine, all the stress seemed to leave her body, being replaced with the need to be hold you.
You found it impossible to believe that people hated Sam: she was perfect in your eyes. Her soft, caring nature, whenever it was just the two of you, was something you couldn’t find anywhere else. Yes, Sam can be a bitch sometimes, but behind closed doors, she is putty in your hands. How she would sit next to you on the couch, softly tracing patterns on your thigh with her fingers, would make your chest flutter. When you two were in a group, she would always sit next to you- much to Tara’s disapproval, who is someone who doesn’t like sharing her sister- while placing a protective hand on your thigh.
The thoughts that ran around Sam’s mind were that she wished she knew you when she was young; maybe her life would be completely different. Perhaps she wouldn’t have started using drugs or ran away from home, but that’s all it was: what-ifs that might or might not have changed her life. Even though she wished for things to have been different, that she wished she would have met you at a different time, she was still glad that she had you in her life, and she refused to let you go any time soon.
So now, as you sit next to her sister getting ready to get plastered at frat parties for Halloween, Sam couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety crawling through her body.
“Yes, Sam, we promise to be safe. We will call you if you need anything,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch, “Can we go now?”
With a small sigh, Sam closed her eyes and nodded her head. She just knew that allowing you guys to go out tonight would come back to bite her in the ass. “Please don’t drink too much,” Sam pleaded as she followed the group to the door, looking directly at you while she spoke, “I’m talking to you.”
You scoffed at your girlfriend’s accusation, “How dare you insinuate that I, of all people, would drink the most!”
“Because you will,” Mindy mumbled as she looked between you and Sam, unamused, “You always get out of hand when you drink.”
“No, I do not!” You shot back, but you knew arguing would get you nowhere.
Speaking up for the first time, Chad said, “Don’t worry, Sam. I will make sure that Y/N and Tara don’t drink too much; you have my word,” as he wrapped a loving arm around your shoulder.
With a small sigh, Sam nodded in defeat, “Alright, just be safe tonight, okay? No splitting up.” Before Sam could finish her sentence, Tara had shot up from the couch and left for the door. “Come on, you old people, the party’s not going to wait for us,” she exclaimed while opening the door and leaning against the door frame, tapping her foot with urgency.
The twins were quickly behind Tara, and when you went to follow, Sam grabbed your hand, “Hey, wait a minute.” When Sam spoke, the three noticed the way Sam’s dark eyes were pleading with you, so they decided to step out into the hallway to give the two of you some privacy.
“What’s up?” You asked with the softest smile that always made Sam’s knees weak. “Please, Y/N, be safe tonight. If you need anything, call me, okay?” The Latina asked as she gently placed her hands on your triceps, lovingly running her hands up and down.
“You know I will be, and I promise to call you if anything happens,” you replied while leaning forward, placing a soft kiss on top of Sam’s head, “Just think, this is a night to yourself. When was the last time you had that?”
Sam mumbled something underneath a breath that you missed. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You teased with a smile, watching as Sam rolled her eyes. “I said that I only enjoy my nights to myself when you are around,” the older girl admitted through clenched teeth.
“Damn, Sam. You can at least pretend to like me,” you joked with a small laugh.
“You know that I hate to admit these things, but you still make me do it.”
“You’re right! I love hearing my girlfriend give me constant affirmations about how much she loves me; it's the best!” You happily stated with a smile, and Sam laughed at your response.
“Whatever, just be safe tonight,” she said as her eyes looked you up and down, clearing having a distaste for your costume, “whatever the fuck you are.”
Naturally, you scoffed at her words, “I will have you know that I am one of the best historians out there.”
“Yeah, I doubt that,” Sam replied with a smile. It might not seem like much, but these small banters between the two of you were what she loved the most. She could be herself around you, and you would never judge her for it.
In the mood to be a smartass, you straightened your posture and pulled on your coat. You cleared your throat and began doing an impression of a Bolton accent, “It’s hard to believe I’m walking through the ruins of the first-ever city, because I’m not. That’s in Iraq, which is miles away, and fucking dangerous.”
Sam stared at you blankly for several seconds before she shook her head, “You’re a fucking idiot, and I cannot believe you are going as that lady.”
“Excuse me, ‘that lady’ is Philomena Cunk, who is the best damn historian on this planet,” you defended while making your way to the front door, Sam following behind you, “And my costume is certainly the best.”
Sam hummed as she opened the front door, “Yeah because it's so hard to beat,” she quickly looked at the three standing out in the hallway, “a half-assed pirate, a scarecrow, and Jack Skellington.”
“Hey now, I’m a cowboy, not a scarecrow,” Chad replied with a bit of hurt. “She doesn’t care what you are. Now come on, we have a party to go to,” Mindy sat as she threw an arm around Tara the pirate and started walking down the hallway with Chad several paces behind them.
Before you followed them, you quickly kissed Sam’s lips. “I love you,” you mumbled against them, and Sam kissed your words.
“I love you too,” she replied while pulling away. You blew her kiss as you started to catch up with the group, and Sam felt her heart flutter at the small gesture. Words could not even begin to express the love she had in her heart for you, but she hoped that one day she might be able to tell you. She wanted to tell you how her entire being ached for your touch whenever you were away, and she hated watching you leave. But she simply settled for watching you leave with her younger sister, off to have the fun that was promised when you start college.
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Whenever someone tells you that college is supposed to be the time of your life, they are fucking wrong. Hours and hours of studying material that you must teach yourself because your professors are too incompetent to teach it while you still pay them thousands of dollars is not fun. There is nothing ideal about college, and you hated every single second of it, but the part you loved the most was your friends.
Of course, you had friends in high school, but none meant this much to you. You would readily lay down your life for Tara, just as you would the twins. So, that’s why for the first time since the semester started, you finally felt your shoulders loosen and stress leave your body, just for some dipshit in a mask to ruin it.
It all happened quickly, according to Chad. One minute, you were taking shots with Tara, then the next, you were on top of a random guy, beating him to a pulp. It took Chad and Mindy to pry you off the guy, yet you still fought against them, trying your hardest to get your hands on that fucker.
“I’m good, I’m good,” you slurred after Chad carried you out of the frat house, but as soon as he placed you on the floor, you tried to run back into the house. “Hey! Stop it!” He shouted, quickly grabbing you before you could make it up the front porch steps, “Sit down and breathe.” Your head was spinning, and you could barely stand, but you had to get your hands on that fucker.
Grumbling under your breath, you listened to the man and sat down on the grass as Tara came to sit by you. “What happened?” She asked while picking up your dominant hand, lightly tracing her fingers over your bloodied knuckles.
You didn’t want to worry Tara that the piece of shit man was saying false accusations about Sam; you knew it would ruin her night. So, you decided to lie. “He said that the only correct way to eat cereal is to pour the milk first, then the cereal.”
A small laugh came from Tara’s lips as she let go of your hand and pulled out her phone. “You know, I don’t know what’s worse: how crazy you defend cereal or that you nearly killed a man dressed up as Philomena Cunk.”
You chuckled beside her and sat in silence as you watched her call her sister, asking the older Carpenter to come pick you up. You felt bad for not being the one to call Sam, but you knew that if you called her, she would ask what happened, and you couldn’t lie to that sweet and kind woman. Those soft, dark eyes that smiled for her would break if you ever were to lie to her, and you couldn’t put her through that.
So, you sat in silence with the younger Carpenter as Chad and Mindy went back inside the frat house. Once they were out of earshot, Tara spoke up. “I know you lied to me.”
“About what?” You questioned, but you knew what she was talking about. “Tell me why you beat the shit out of that guy,” Tara pressed.
You shook your head and sucked in a deep breath, debating on if you should tell her or not. With a sigh, you down while speaking, “He was saying some shit about Sam, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry that I ruined your night.”
Several beats of silence passed before Tara grabbed your hand and interlaced her fingers with yours. “You know, When you and Sam first started dating, I was skeptical. You’re one of my closest friends, and Sam is my sister. But oh my god, after seeing how she looks at you, I knew that the two of you were meant to be. I’ve never seen Sam look at anyone the way she does with you and the way she smiles around you, Y/N. It's unbelievable; I’ve never seen her smile that much. What I mean to say is that Sam has a hard time with words, but that woman loves you so much. So thank you for defending her name because I know she would do the same thing for you,” Tara admitted with a soft smile, and before you could respond, the both of you saw a tall figure approaching you.
“What the hell happened?” Sam asked with worry laced in her voice as soon as she got close enough to see your hand. She crouched beside you and took your hand out of Tara’s as she lightly traced her fingers over your knuckles, more worried about you than whoever you beat the shit out of.
“Your sweet, little Y/N who would never do any harm went apeshit on someone. It took both twins to pull her off of the poor guy,” Tara said as she stood from the ground and began walking into the house.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Sam questioned while eyeing her sister, who didn’t even look behind her as she shouted, “Back to the party!”
You laughed as you watched the younger Carpenter disappear into the house, “she’s a little shit, isn’t she?” You joked as you looked back at Sam, who glared at you, “What?”
You knew it was terrible, but you couldn’t help but find Sam extremely attractive whenever she was angry; it was probably why you liked to piss her off so much.
The older girl huffed as she stood up, pulling you up with her as well. “Don’t ‘what’ me; you know exactly what I’m mad about,” she said as she grabbed one of your arms and threw it over your shoulder. You just shrugged, not wanting to argue with Sam over the reason for your fight.
“I’m not that drunk, Sam. I can walk by myself,” you declared, but once Sam let go of your arm so you could prove your point, gravity seemed to have a vendetta against you, causing you to begin swaying from side to side.
“Mhm, yeah. Come on,” Sam sighed as she grabbed your arm and threw it over her shoulder again.
Naturally, the entire walk back to the apartment, you complained about Sam not needing to carry you, but you would never admit that you enjoyed seeing this softer side of her.
“So,” Sam asked when you two got away from the frat house, “What happened?”
You shrugged as you continued walking, “The guy was saying false information about how to eat cereal properly. That’s all.”
Now, Sam wasn’t an idiot, and she wasn’t born yesterday. She knew when you were lying, and she knew that you were. In your relationship, Sam always knew that you would be truthful, and her heart began to break at the thought of things changing between the two of you. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t help the anxiety at the idea of you no longer being honest with her.
As if you could sense her doubt, you spoke, “Sam, you know that I love you, right?” The Carpenter nodded her head, silently ushering you to continue. “Well, then you know that I would do anything to protect you, anything at all,” you proclaimed as you leaned over and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.
Several beats of silence passed as Sam was thinking about what you said. She knew that whatever happened between you and the dickhead was about the online controversies surrounding her, even though you didn’t say anything about it; she just knew.
A part of Sam felt guilty that you had the feeling of constantly needing to defend her name, which got you in a lot of trouble. But she also loved the idea of having someone who loved and cared for her enough to start fights over her, no matter how petty they were.
So, instead of asking you any more questions, Sam simply said, “I love you too,” and pulled you closer to her.
Falling into a comfortable silence, you walked for several minutes before you stopped dead in your tracks. “What the actual fuck is that?” You asked with a slight hint of venom in your voice.
You had stopped just outside a Barnes & Noble, glaring into the store’s display case. In that case, there was a small cardboard cutout of Gale Weathers, and behind her were copies of her notorious book that worsened Sam’s public image.
“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you unwrapped Sam’s arm from you and walked up the glass window, pushing on it but getting nowhere. “Y/N, come on. It’s closed, and you’re drunk,” Sam said as she gently grabbed your hand, but you shook it off.
Without saying a word, you walked to the side of the store to pick up a brick. Before Sam could stop you, you threw the brick through the window, causing it to shatter into tiny pieces.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sam whisper-shouted as she tried to stop you from climbing into the store, but you were surprisingly strong in your intoxicated state. Once you entered the display area, you grabbed a signed copy of Gale’s book and ripped out several of the pages. You then began doing that to the rest of the books you could see, and once you were done, you moved to the cutout.
“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you pushed the cutout, causing it to fall, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fucking fuckass loser.”
Now, she knew it was terrible to be imagining this, but Sam couldn’t find it within herself to stop you from destroying Gale’s books. Truth be told, she wanted to join you, but she felt like you deserved to have this moment to yourself.
“I’ll fuck you up, little bitch,” you stated as you picked up the cutout and put it underneath your arm. “What are you doing?” Sam asked with a small laugh as she watched you carry the cardboard Gale Weathers from the store.
“Taking her home,” you slurred once you stepped onto the street, then you began walking toward Sam’s apartment. “Wrong way, dumbass,” Sam stated once you got halfway down the sidewalk.
Without saying a word, you turned on your heels and walked back to Sam. “Thank you,” you replied while the two of you began walking back in the correct direction, still holding Gale.
“Are you taking her home to kill her?” The Latina asked while looking down at the cutout, struggling to keep a straight face with this unusual situation.
“What kind of fucking animal do you take me for? No, I'm not going to kill her!” You exclaimed, “But I am kidding her.”
The sound of Sam’s laughter caused an eruption of butterflies to flutter throughout your chest. Even though you were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember most of this night, hell, there was a good chance you wouldn’t even remember ‘kidnapping’ Gale Weathers, but you knew you would never forget the sound of your woman’s laughter.
“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you home so you can torture Gale,” Sam joked as she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into her side.
She didn’t care that you would be on the news tomorrow morning for the destruction of property; she was just glad you were happy while doing it. It wasn’t every day that Sam got to witness you lose your shit, especially on an inanimate object, but she loved seeing this side of you. She wouldn’t change your relationship for anything, no matter what it was. Sam loved you with her body and soul, and she would never give that up.
The only thing she wished was different was that she knew you when she was young. She would stay up most nights wondering how different her life would have been if she had met you when she was 18, a fresh runaway from home. Before she got into all the hard drugs, she still struggled despite being three years sober. But as she listened to you threaten fake Gale while stating how much you loved the woman you were dating, Sam couldn’t be happier with you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin
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stars1997 · 2 months
Text
left alone
Paring(s): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader (Trevor Zegras's sister) Warnings: NSFW!!! Smut, making out, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (F receiving), getting caught, swearing, very vocal jack, desperate jack, Use of y/n, nicknames (baby, good girl), not edited.(let me know if i missed any) Summary: y/n gets invited to the Hughes's lake house this summer with her brother. She and Jack end up having the house to themselves. Jack then finds out that she has had a crush on him.
word count: 1.9k
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All the boys were supposed to be out getting food for this big barbeque they wanted to have tonight. I was lying in bed, trying to find something to watch on Netflix, just happy to have the house to myself even if it’s only for a short time.
This summer has been crazy. The lake house has been filled with a bunch of rowdy hockey players, and being the only girl in the house, it can sometimes get overwhelming.
After what felt like ages of trying to figure out the TV and then pick something to watch, I finally decided to watch Mamma Mia.
This was my first time coming to the lake house. Normally, it’s just Trevor who gets invited.
Ellen thought it was a good idea for the boys to invite me. I have been cooped up in my dorm room all school year, so I needed a good vacation.
I also think she told them to invite me because she knew that you have had a crush on Jack for a while now.
As I was pulling the comforter over my legs there was a knock at the door. But before I could answer, they just let themselves in.
Jack walks into the room and tosses himself onto the bed. “Hey.” He says his voice monotone as he puts his hands under his head before his head hits the pillow, his eyes focused on the TV mounted on the wall in front of the bed.
He gives the TV a weird look and reaches for the TV remote. He was already changing the channel before I could even register what was going on. Jack and I have never really hung out alone. So, him choosing to hang out with me caught me off guard.
“Hey, I was watching that!” I say, reaching over to try and take it out of his hand.
“Mama Mia sucks. I’m putting on Jaws,”  he says, still no emotion in his voice as he speaks.
“Don’t you have a TV in your room? Why did you have to come into mine to watch it?” he scoffs at me like I’m supposed to know why he’s in my room.
“Jaws is scary. I was also lonely because the guys left without me to go get the food,” he says, turning the volume up on the TV. I let out a huff and rested my back against the headboard.
Jack made himself comfortable as I picked up my phone to text my friend about what was happening.
y/n:
Jack is in my room right now. He just walked in and changed the movie that I was watching. I don’t know why he couldn’t just watch it in his room. He told me that he was lonely.
y/f/n:
Omg! He totally likes you! You should tell him that you like him.
y/n:
No, I'm not doing that. Are you crazy? He’s just going to laugh in my face and then it’s just going to be awkward between us.
y/f/n:
I mean why else would he be in your room right now if he didn’t like you? I say go for it! I love you and all but I'm tired of hearing you talk about how hot he looks when he has just woken up and that you wish he would just rip your clothes off you.
y/n:
Whoa! I have never said that!
y/f/n:
You didn’t have to I always know what you are thinking about. That’s why we’re best friends. Now go and get your man.
You know that nothing could ever happen between you two. Trevor would not be happy to find out that his best friend is getting with his sister.
I place my phone down and get up to go grab a snack. When I come back to the room I see Jack looking through my phone.
“Why the hell are you going through my phone? How the fuck did you even get into my phone? It was locked when I left.” Putting the bowl of popcorn down, I run over to where he’s now sitting on the side of the bed and snatch my phone out of his hands.
“It kept dinging, and I see you type in your code all the time,” he said a smirk now on his face. “So… you have a crush on me?” The smirk never left his face.
“No. What would make you think that,” I say trying to play it off. Trying to act like he wasn’t just looking through your messages with your friend. “Well, first you’re a horrible liar. Second, you are texting your friend about how you think I'm so hot when I have just woken up and that you wish I would rip the clothes off you.” I’m now painfully aware of how close we are to each other. I’m standing so my legs are in between his.
“Now what if I told you that I have liked you for years? And it’s been hell not being able to tell you.” He looks up at me as I cross my arms at what he’s saying. “You're just messing with me because you now know that I like you. So, qui-” He cuts me off by standing up and kissing me.
“Is this ok?” His voice is almost a whisper, almost too quiet for me to hear over the movie that’s still playing. like he was scared to ask.
I shake my head yes. His lips find mine again. The kiss is hard and fast like he was scared I might pull away. “I have been wanting to kiss you for so long,” He says, bringing one of his hands up to cup the back of my neck. His other hand finds its way to my lower back, right above my ass, as he kisses me again.
His hands now travel to the back of my thighs picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He sits back down on the edge of the bed. My hips rocking against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between my thighs.
He lets out a grunt, moving both his hands up to my waist so he can help me grind against him. “Fuck. If you keep going, I'm going to cum soon,” he says, still grinding me against the bulge in his pants. “Jack. Please, I need you,” I say, my voice all breathy and whiny.
That’s all he needs to hear before he picks me up and tosses me on the bed. I pull my shirt over my head throwing it to the side. He climbs over me, taking the waistband of my sleep shorts in his hands, and pulling them off me. I’m now in nothing but my underwear. His eyes rake over my body before he kisses me again.
His lips travel down my body to right above my underwear. He hooks his finger in my underwear and pulls it down, placing a few kisses on my thighs as the cold air hits my wet folds.
“Fuck, you're beautiful. If I had known that you liked me as well, I would have asked you out a long time ago,” he says before he hooks his arms around my legs, his hands holding me down at my hips. Kissing me one last time on my thigh before he licked up my folds, sucking my clit into his mouth.
I let out a gasp that turned into a loud moan. His tongue flicks over my clit as he sucks. I try to buck my hips up, his hands keep me in place. His beard scruff rubbing my thighs, creating a burning feeling, and adding to the pleasure. My hands make their way to his hair, tugging hard. He lets out a few grunts as he switches from sucking my clit to lapping at my entrance, making me moan.
“Jack! Fuck, I'm getting close. Don’t stop!” My hands still tugging at his hair. His hands grip my thighs as he pulls me closer to his face. Letting out more grunts he moves back to sucking and licking at my clit.
A loud moan leaves my mouth and my back arches off the bed. “Jack! Oh god. Yes. I’m-.” My sentence gets cut off with another loud moan as my orgasm hits me hard.
“Fuck y/n. you taste so fucking good," he says, kissing his way back up my body, stopping to suck on my nipples.
When his lips make it to mine, I can taste myself on his lips. He pulled away to take his shirt off, now only in his gray sweatpants. A wet spot where the tip of his cock sits pressing against the fabric.
“Lay down I want to ride you,” I say making my way to straddle him.
I reach my hands out and touch his chest. Running them down so they rest on the waistband of his sweats. Only pulling them down enough to pull his cock out.
My thumb slides over the tip and he lets out a hiss. “Come on baby don’t tease me.” His lips form into a little pout.
I adjust myself so I’m now hovering over his cock. I run his tip through my folds, and he lets out little whines. I slowly slide him in, and he tries his best to hold back a moan. “Fuck! Baby, you're so tight. You feel so good around me. Move baby. Need to you move please.” His voice is desperate.
His hips bucking up into me. I start bouncing, and my head tips back from the pleasure. I feel his hand slide from my hips up to my breasts. I let out a loud moan as he rolled my nipples between his fingers.
“Shit. You're doing good. Such a good girl for me.” He thrust to meet my movements. “Jacky! Yes!” My nails run down his chest. With every thrust, he lets out a little whine and mumbles curse words under his breath.
We were too focused on each other to hear the front door close downstairs or the footsteps up the stairs.
“y/n! Jack! Come help us bring in the food,” Quinn yells as he makes his way up the stairs. Shocked expressions make their way onto our faces as we scramble to move away from each other. I grab the closest thing to cover me, it so happens to be Jack's shirt pulling it over me. Jack pulls up his sweatpants and I'm sliding on my underwear right when the door opens.
“y/n have you seen-” Quinn’s mouth drops open and looks between the two of us. Then he lets out a laugh. “Oh boy. Trevor is not going to be happy about this,” Quinn laughs. “Trevor! You owe me twenty dollars!” Quinn rushes out of the room and back down the stairs. I look at Jack wondering if he knew what Quinn was talking about. He looks at me just as confused. We make our way down the stairs following Quinn into the kitchen.
“You owe me twenty dollars,” Quinn says with a big smile on his face. “No! I told you I was not making a bet on when your brother and my sister were going to hook up. That’s gross bro. Jack, I’ll beat your ass later but right now we have a barbeque to host!” Trevor makes his way back outside. Me and jack just look at each other in shock.
“you guys knew?” I ask, now very confused. “Yeah! Your crush on him was so obvious to everyone, well except to him,” Trevor yelled into the house. Everyone let out a small laugh as they went out to help Trevor outside.
334 notes · View notes
cieloclercs · 9 months
Text
what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc
PART: 3? (read part 2 here)
summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more
warnings. swearing, online hate, we’re getting to the angst now 🫣 arguments, charles is an idiot, arthur and joris being sick of his shit (but what else is new)
pairings. charles leclerc x arsty!reader
face claim. tara michelle
author’s note. again, i have no idea how much modern art sells for at auctions so don’t come at me if this seems unrealistic 🙏☹️ i also feel the need to clarify that y/n has 2 instagram accounts, one personal and one for art stuff ☺️
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liked by joris_trouche and 51,196 others
y/nsart auction update! 🎨
tide - sold for €12,460 erode - sold for €9,500 wave - sold for €20,890 glint - sold for €6,300
this is nothing short of a dream come true for me. the support i’ve seen both on social media and at the auction (once again, thank you to everyone who stopped by!) has been beyond anything i ever could have hoped for 🩵
if you’d told me when i was a little girl that one day people would pay for art i’ve created, i wouldn’t have believed you. i’m so so grateful to have been given this opportunity to do something that i love and to share it with the world 💗 i can’t wait to see what the future holds!
view all comments…
username congratulations y/n! 💕💕
*y/nsart liked this comment
leclerc_pascale C'est tout à fait mérité. N'arrêtez jamais de peindre, ma fille, vous avez un don! / completely deserved. never stop painting, my girl, you have a gift!
y/nsart merci beaucoup 🥹 je promets de ne pas le faire x / i promise i won’t
arthur_leclerc congratulations petite sœur! / little sister
y/nsart merci arth ☺️
y/nsart also, ‘petite’? i’m literally older than you?
arthur_leclerc but you’re smaller 🙃
charles_leclerc toujours fière de toi, ma chérie ❤️ / forever proud of you, sweetheart
y/nsart 😐
charles_leclerc you’re still mad at me? ☹️
y/nsart if you wanted one of my paintings you could have just asked rather than wasting over €20,000. i would have let you have it for free
charles_leclerc i didn’t waste anything, y/n
username uh oh mom and dad are fighting 😳
username ironic how her highest selling painting was literally bought by her best friend 😭
username i guarantee you it would NOT have sold for that much if charles hadn’t been bidding
username i don’t want to be the one to say it but lately it kind of feels like y/n’s been using her friendship with charles as a way to promote her art…
username as much as i love y/n icl i think you might be right 🥲
username 🤢🤢🤢
username stop using charles’ fame to try and make yourself relevant! you’ll never be good enough for him babes 🥰
username the switch up on these comments from ‘fans’ is actually so embarrassing
username i know! it’s like as soon as y/n starts becoming successful everyone suddenly decides it’s not because of her own hard work but because of charles 🙄
username lmao how has she managed to make tens of thousands for that shit she calls art? i’m sensing a clout chaser 😂
username this REEKS of jealousy
username these comments make me sick. y/n has proved time and time again how talented and hard working she is. just because charles doesn’t know you exist doesn’t mean you get to hate on another girl who he ACTUALLY cares about. grow up.
*charles_leclerc and y/nsart liked this comment
username i feel so bad for y/n. no offence to charles but if he’d let the auction play out normally without bidding (although he does have a right to do so if he wants!) then she wouldn’t be getting all this hate right now 😔
comments on this post have been limited.
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charles_leclerc back to work 🇳🇱
view all comments…
username no y/n like? ☹️
username is y/n with you?
username guys check kym illman’s instagram! he said charles turned up to the paddock alone…
username i mean, y/n could be arriving later right?
username if y/n isn’t there it’ll be the first race she’s missed since singapore last year 😳
username y/n has a life besides charles! just because she’s not at one race doesn’t mean they’ve fallen out or anything ☺️
username but think about it…neither charles nor y/n have posted anything to do with each other since the auction a week ago normally they can barely go a day without posting each other 🥴
username can everyone just stop talking about y/n 🙄 all she ever did was distract him anyway
username forza charles! ❤️
username he’s not even smiling :((
username because he knows ferrari are shit, it’s probably nothing to do with y/n
username i didn’t even mention her? 😭
joris_trouche i think you’re missing someone mate
username JORIS??
username HE KNOWS SOMETHING!!
username JORIS PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW
username i hate to be the bearer of bad news but y/n just posted. she’s not at the grand prix 🥲
yourusername
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replies:
arthur_leclerc oh shit arthur_leclerc what did he do joris_trouche just say the word and i’ll smack him for you 😁 ↳ yourusername please don’t do that 😭 yourfriend you don’t need him, mon amour ❤️ ↳ yourusername ☺️
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you:
did i do something wrong?
we haven’t spoken in a week
charlie 🤍:
no, y/n
you:
you won’t answer my calls
charlie 🤍:
i’ve been thinking about what you said
i don’t want you to have to deal with hate because of me
you:
so you think ignoring me is the answer?
charlie 🤍:
i’m not ignoring you, y/n, i’m trying to protect you
you:
what the fuck?
charles, i don’t care what people say about you
charlie 🤍:
but i do
isn’t it for the best? if we aren’t seen together for a while, you won’t get any of the hate
you:
you really don’t get it do you
if you think i want you to cut me off to ‘protect me’ then maybe you don’t know me as well as i thought you did
charlie 🤍:
don’t say that
i just want everyone to see you the way i do
you:
and i already told you, i don’t care what they think of me
i only care what you think
charlie 🤍:
why?
you:
i’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet
charlie 🤍:
figured what out? [ seen at 4:11PM ]
y/n?
you:
i think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while
bye charles
charlie 🤍:
what?! [ seen at 4:13PM ]
y/n come back [ delivered at 4:14PM ]
just tell me what you mean [ delivered at 4:20PM ]
please y/n [ delivered at 4:47PM ]
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scuderiaferrari A DNF in Zandvoort for Charles. Now time to refocus ready for Monza 🔜
view all comments…
username what the actual fuck was going on with him today?
username i don’t know. i’ve never seen him so distracted 😕
username honestly a rookie mistake. if he’s going to be pulling shit like this then he doesn’t deserve his seat 🤷
username it’s just one mistake?? calm down 😭
username why do i feel like this has something to do with y/n…
username oh my god will you all shut up about y/n 🙄 they’re not even dating !!
username and? they’ve been best friends since they were 5 years old. if my childhood friendship broke down i’d be pretty fucking upset about it too
username we don’t actually know that they’ve fallen out tho…neither of them have said anything
username but isn’t it obvious? y/n not at the race, charles being distracted and sulky around the paddock? they’ve definitely argued about something
username charles i can’t keep defending you when you do this 💔💔💔
username how this guy has managed to keep his seat with all these mistakes i have no idea 😒
username hopefully y/n will be in monza to bring him some good luck🤞
➜ part 4
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starogeorgina · 4 days
Text
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𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚
Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader
Warnings: Swearing, smut, child birth
1.03
You blink away unshed tears as you stare up at Ser Harwin; the look on his face was earth-shattering. No traces of anger or bitterness could be detected on his handsome face; the softness in his eyes made you feel nothing but guilt. You should never have believed the rumors, given into your husband's taunting or gone near Criston Cole.
You’re unaware that you’re crying until Harwin wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “Prince Daemon told me your news; congratulations, princess.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, and in a quiet voice, he says, “He also told me what he said to you. I wish I’d known sooner.”
Ser Harwin wasn’t a fool; he knew his beloved princess’s outburst of believing the rumors surrounding him and Princess Rhaenyra being true hadn’t come from thin air, but he had no idea Daemon was the one behind it. The Targaryen prince thrived in chaos, but after causing so much damage, the knight was grateful to be away from the keep for some time; otherwise, he might have done something to get himself executed.
“Do you forgive me?”
Harwin sighs, “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”
Pouting, you shake your head. “I should never have doubted you... henujagon īlva, valzȳrys.” (Leave us, husband.)
You wait until you hear Daemon leave; he didn’t need to be involved in your conversation, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he was within earshot. You take Harwin’s large hand in yours and say, “I love my husband; he’s the other half of me. Targaryens are made to burn together, but I love you too. I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a different kind of love. Since I was a girl, I always knew I’d marry Daemon, regardless of how I felt, but I chose to be with you. You make me feel safe and—”
“What is it you’re trying to tell me?” Harwin wipes away another fallen tear. “I’ve memorized each time you’ve confessed your love to me, which is how I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I don’t know whose baby this is. I forgot to drink moon tea after the last time we lay together.”
His blue eyes fill with tears. “Prince Daemon will be the father.”
“I’m sorry.”
Your heart aches a little when Harwin hugs you; he was a good man. A far better person than you, Daemon, or Criston. He wasn’t selfish, violent, or entitled. You only wish you’d never questioned his loyalty to begin with.
“There’s something else I need to tell you.”
As the months passed, your body changed, and the gorgeous gowns you had made could no longer hide how large your bump had gotten. Rhaenyra often thought you were carrying more than one baby when your bump first started to swell, but now you were convinced she was right.
Daemon smooths his hand gently over the fabric of your dress, feeling the baby kick beneath. You were comfortable laying on your left side with multiple pillows fluffed around you to keep you in that position. Your husband lay behind you with his face nuzzling into the side of your neck.
“Have you spoken much with Ser Harwin?”
“No,” you say, feeling your lip tremble slightly. “Perhaps it is for the best; the less he is near during my pregnancy, the less people will talk.”
Daemon kisses your cheek. “The baby could look exactly like us, and the Greens would still gossip. I suspect the same will happen with Rhaenyra as soon as she has an heir.”
Your sister and her husband, Ser Laenor, had gone to visit various houses in the realm on behalf of your father, who was too ill to travel the distance himself. Although they had gone on dragonback, a large number of knights, including Ser Harwin, had been sent to protect them. When you confessed your antics with Cole to Ser Harwin, he was mad for a while but insisted he still wanted to be with you; he just needed some time.
“And what if the baby doesn’t look like us?” You knew no matter what, you’d love and protect your child fiercely, but you needed reassurance from Daemon. “I’ve been beyond foolish; I’ve given them the opportunity to make my child’s life miserable before they are even born.”
“I will cut out the tongues of anyone who dares question the legitimacy of our child. Any baby you have will be an extension of you; it would be impossible for me not to love them.” He rubs his hand along your stomach again. “This is my son or daughter growing inside you. Nothing anyone says will change that.”
“Princess, it’s time to push again.”
“I can’t! I can’t!” You sob, clutching onto the bed sheets tightly. The pain was overwhelming; you were convinced this is what dying felt like.
“Push!”
The midwives help guide you through the last few pushes until your daughter finally enters the room. She is placed on your chest, and you sob with happiness, “She’s perfect—oh fuck.”
Your daughter is quickly carried away to be cleaned up as the midwife pushes your legs open again. “Time to do this second time, princess.”
Daemon hums while gently rocking your daughter Daella to sleep, while your son Gaemon suckles at your breast. They were only a few hours old, but it already felt like you'd spent a lifetime loving them.
“Perhaps when you are feeling up to it, we can pick dragon eggs for the baby’s.”
You smile and say, “That would be nice.”
With Syrax having laid another clutch of dragon eggs, you were on your way to the dragon pit to pick one while being accompanied by your husband and sworn protector, but before you could leave the courtyard, your waters broke. Ser Harwin immediately picked you up and carried you back to your chambers, while Daemon sent for the maester and midwives.
“There, there,” Daemon says before gently placing your daughter into the crib next to your bed.
You smile down at her. Daella shares your pale complexion; her silver hair and the shade of her purple eyes were an exact match for yours. Gaemon got almost all his features from you, like his sister; his skin was pale and his hair silver, except his eyes were a dark brown.
“I think he’s had his feed,” you say when Gaemon stops feeding and his eyelids slowly start to close.
Daemon takes him from your arms so you can readjust your nightgown. He kisses the baby on the forehead. “They really are perfect.”
Sitting underneath the weirwood tree, she smiles as Daella attempts to walk along one of the thick roots sticking out of the ground, with your loyal knight Ser Harwin right behind her, ready to catch her the second she slips. Gaemon lays back, his head resting against your legs, as you read a story about dragons out loud. Both eggs had hatched in the cradle, and your children were now getting to the age where they understood how powerful and magical dragons are.
“Careful, princess,” Harwin says softly. “Slow down before you fall.”
Daella grins up at the knight before jumping onto a different root. It wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of her, and she attempted to climb the tree.
When screeching comes from the distance, Gaemon points to the sky and says, “Mama, look! It’s kepa!”
You look up and see the Blood Wyrm flying in the direction of the dragonpit. Daemon always made a point of returning from dragon riding before supper time so he could dine with his family. When you lower your gaze from the sky, you are met with the cold gaze of Ser Criston Cole. You often notice the knight observing your son and daughter from a distance, but he makes no attempt to interact with them.
Although Cole would never admit it, you had a feeling he would risk his life for them just as Daemon and Harwin would.
Harwin takes one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth while you lean over him, your hands pressing against his chest. Daemon kisses the back of your neck, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth as he thrusts into you from behind. Over time, the three of you had come to an agreement that when the time came and you wished to have another baby, you and Harwin couldn’t fuck as you normally would, eliminating any chances of him getting you pregnant since you wouldn’t be drinking moon tea. But you still wanted to be intimate with Harwin, and your ever-devoted husband came up with an idea.
Daemon’s voice is cocky as he says, “So, Ser Harwin, how do you feel about our princess taking what she wants from us at the same time?”
Harwin grins. “Do you think you could take both of us?”
“Yes, I want you both.”
“Greedy girl!” Daemon smacks your ass.
Your heart races with anticipation at the thought of having both of them inside you at the same time. You're used to making love to them both, but this would feel different—more intimate, more primal. Harwin and Daemon had mutual respect for one another, but they mainly bonded over how much they loved your little family.
Your husband chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your ear. “You’ll get what you desire, my love. I’ve bet you’ve thought about this plenty of times before, haven’t you?”
Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod.
A princess is desperate to feel her husband and lover fill her up at the same time.
Daemon slowly withdraws his shaft from your cunny, leaving you aching for more. He sits down on the bed beside Harwin, but before you have the chance to move over to his lap, the knight hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you up until you are hovering over his face. Not wasting time, Harwin starts flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue.
Daemon smirks as he listens to your whine. He had already ‘prepared’ both your holes before Harwin joined you in the bedchamber. After coming apart on Harwin’s lips, Daemon gently pulls the small cock-shaped object from your anus, then pulls you onto his lap so you are facing him, and slides his cock into your cunny again.
He leans back and pulls you down with him, gripping your shoulders and spreading them while Harwin readjusts himself behind you. The thought of having them both causes your clitoral area to throb, “Please.”
Harwin guides his thick cock to where you’re aching for him. With a gentle nudge, he pushes past your resistance and enters your tight hole. You gasp as he fills you completely. The sensation of having them both inside you is foreign and exhilarating. Harwin begins to rock his hips gently, slowly pulling them out before pushing them back in again, while Daemon thrusts upwards at a harsher pace.
“How does it feel? Daemon asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “Good as you imagined?”
“So, so good.”
Your mind becomes hazy with pleasure when one of them starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. You come apart, squeezing both of them tightly. Harwin shoots his seed inside you, then Daemon follows shortly after, coating your cunny in his seed, which he will hopefully take.
The knight slowly pulls you out, then brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and kisses you deeply. Daemon smirks, “Take your time catching your breath, my good knight, as we will be here all night.”
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dabislittlemouse · 8 months
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tainted angel 🪽 (pt.2)
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PART 1 // PART 3 // PART 4
ෆ DABI X HAWKS’ LITTLE SISTER
ෆ cw: Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, corruption kink, smut and dubcon incoming
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“So.. Dabi”
A red feather quickly finds itself on my neck, its sharp point pressing against my pulse.
“Let’s start by telling me what the hell you’re doing here. And being friendly with my sister, out of all people” Hawks asks sternly and I can’t help the grin on my face. He is fuming and I’m living for it.
“Hey now, you’re being rude” I rasp out, faking a hurt expression. “Is this how you treat your friend?”
“Enough with games. We’re no friends and you know it. How did you find this place? I swear if you hurt any of the-”
“Chill birdie..” I interrupt him, rolling my eyes. “I’d appreciate first if you got this feather off me. Before I burn it down, that won’t be fun for ya, will it? The little angel inside told me how sensitive feathers can be, even when they’re off your back. Really interesting.. ”
Hawks swallows and removes the feather, letting out a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. Probably mentally cursing his dumb little sister for spilling so much information to a man like me.
“To cut things short I tried to find some information on my own, cause see, I don’t really trust ya, hero. I’m sure you’ve been doing the same behind our backs, searching information regarding any villain in our squad”
Hawks chuckles, clearly a forced one. I’m one second away from blasting flames on his face.
“Come on Dabi.. you’re way too paranoid. After I’ve proven myself loyal to the cause multiple times? It’s kinda unfair don’t you think? Other members of the liberation haven’t gone through such intense stuff so you could trust them. But you still think I’m suspicious.”
“We’ll see about that when the time comes.” The smug smile fades off my face, seriousness replacing it. He needs to know he can’t fool anyone, not me at least.
“It wasn’t hard to find out information about you. But of course finding out that you got an angelic sister was the cherry on top of it all! All sweet and nice to savour~”
Now Hawks was the serious one here.
Ouch, struck a nerve there?
“Listen here, and listen well. I’m all in to help you guys achieve this cause and join forces, but I want you to stay out of my life. Away from my family, you’re going too far Dabi” he growls, approaching closer, while I stand there looking down on him. He really is shorter than me, such disadvantage.
“Tch, you really think I’m gonna hurt em?”
“Who knows, will you?” he replies, golden irises focused on my teal ones.
“I won’t hero, that’s all about it” I smirk, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jacket. “If you’re fully loyal to us and to the cause, then why so paranoid? Why so scared? I would never harm someone who is loyal, or their family for that matter. I’m not that fucking stupid”
I let my words sink in and the hero stays silent for a while. This is all a game and I know exactly how it’s gonna go. Especially now that I got myself a little gem, Hawks is going to think twice before doing anything funny.
“Alright, all I’m saying is, do not involve her or anyone else in this. She is neither a hero nor a villain, let her live her normal life and don’t mess it up. She doesn’t know who you are, nor my association with the League. I’d rather kept this all hidden for both of our sakes, won’t be beneficial if the word gets out”
“Y’got it” I click my tongue, fully aware that I will do the opposite. I didn’t have time to have further conversations with my angel. Besides from being a sight for sore eyes, I want to know all the thoughts in that brain of hers. What goes through her mind, her opinions on different topics, what does she think of hero society? Does she have her own ideologies and beliefs? For sure she is not just a brainless doll who does nothing but sit pretty all day.
Still, even if that’s the case, I will use her whoever I see fit. Been a long time since I had some real fun, and having a brainless little doll sitting nicely on my cock sounds just about right.
Fuck, thinking such nasty thoughts when her brother is right in front of me.
Little does he know that I got her number.
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*2 days later*
As I head back to ReDestro’s mansion, familiar voices of my comrades fill my ears the moment I step inside.
“Hey Dabi, where have you been dude? You can’t keep ignoring your duties as a lieutenant!” Twice says.
“Don’t worry about that Twice” I sigh, ignoring his gaze and heading upstairs to my room.
Though it’s not that easy to escape their interrogation the moment that psycho sticks her nose in my business. Fuckin’ great.
“Mmmm, do you smell this?” Toga asks Twice as she comes closer to me. “Such a sweet pleasant scent~ can’t believe it’s coming from you out of all people, Dabi”
Ouch.
“And what do you mean by that?” I raise an eyebrow, annoyance clear on my face. “Careful with your words psycho.”
“Ahh no didn’t mean it in a bad way! Usually you just smell like cigarettes.” she giggles, then her eyes widen in realisation. “Wait, don’t tell me you are seeing someone?”
“Dabi seeing someone?” Spinner says from the other side of the room, Compress turning his head as well.
Yep, that’s my cue to leave.
“Hey Dabi don’t ignore me!!” Toga pouts. “Tell me is it a girl? Who is she? She smells so sweet!”
Damn it angel, the trouble you already got me in.
“None of your goddamn business.” I say sternly, though I can’t help the small grin on my face. That’s all it takes for the little psycho to blush and squirm in excitement. God knows what kind of romantic crap she’ll be daydreaming from now on.
Laying down on my bed, I let out a sigh and grab my burner phone. It’s strange though, how I’ve always been chasing my goals and dreaming of revenge, my mind focused nowhere but only on the hatred burning deep inside of my core.
My only goal was to bring down this society built on false heroes, but as my eyes laid on her, it was like a ray of sunshine swept through the dark clouds in my life. I never gave a fuck about having fun around with women, I’ve been focused on more important things to let distractions take over me.
But when it comes to her, I am a depraved man.
I dial her number, and patiently wait for her to pick it up.
“Hello?” she answers with a sweet voice that has me biting my lip already.
“Hey angel~”
She paused, her breathing changed. Bet she’s blushing the moment she recognises my voice and the nickname I gave her that day.
“Dabi?” she replies, her voice a tone higher, clearly filled with excitement.
“That’s right” I grin. “Kinda missed your pretty ass you know?”
“Missed me?” she giggles. “We literally met just two days ago, how could you miss someone you met for the first time?”
“Got no idea, you sure you don’t have some kind of seducing quirk? That scent of yours been lingering on me for too long. Anyway, I hope Hawks didn’t make a big fuss that day, angel”
I remove my jacket and shirt off, feeling hot and bothered already.
“He is very overprotective sometimes, it’s annoying” she replies. I can already imagine her cute pouty face.
“That’s how big brothers are, way too overprotective of their little sisters. Can’t really blame ‘em”
My mind suddenly goes to Fuyumi. Was I overprotective of her too? Can’t remember.
“Princess.. you got any plans tonight?” I whisper.
“Mm not really” she mumbles. “Why? You wanna visit me again?”
“Why not?” I smirk. “Seems like you enjoyed my presence that day”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I just want to make sure guests feel comfortable that’s all” she snaps back, but I know too well that’s a lie.
Before I can say something back, I notice the bulge in my jeans growing.
Shit. All it took was her voice.
Lazily I unzip my pants, while I let her talk.
“Tell me angel, you already got a man in your life? Didn’t get the chance to ask earlier..”
“If I had a man, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now” she says, I can hear the teasing smile in her voice.
“Is that so? You that loyal huh? Such good girl” I say as my hand lazily strokes my cock.
A soft gasp leaves her mouth at the praise and I squeeze myself slightly, precum already leaking down my shaft.
“W-Well, that’s how everyone should be” she continues. “But to answer your question no, I don’t have anyone”
Even if you had, they wouldn’t live to see the next day.
“And in the past? For sure a gorgeous thing like you has both men and women salivating”
My mind goes on her swollen tits and soft thighs, my breathing gets harder. That plump lower lip of hers..
“N-None of the sort. I don’t have much experience in relationships” she says shyly. This grabs my attention, little angel is inexperienced. My cock throbs in my hand, I swear if I keep edging myself like this-
“Ngh- Y’gotta elaborate on that sweetheart” I manage to reply. “Y’never kissed someone, been intimate and stuff like that?”
“I’ve had my first kiss but- whenever I tried to go further I just couldn’t..” I can feel her breathing get irregular again.
My chest gets heavier as I edge myself at her voice, my hands moving faster, the tip of my head red and swollen, begging to be stuffed inside that sweet cunt of hers. Just the mere thought of it has me salivating, abusing her pretty hole until her voice goes sore from screaming and her eyes puffy from crying. The metallic piercings decorating my shaft heat up, making the feeling more tense as I reach my high. Like a drug, her voice is sending me over the edge
“Umm Dabi, you still there? You alright? W-what’s going on?”
“Mmhm yeah. M’still here-fuck” I let out a grunt, trying my best to keep quiet as I bust on my hand. Hot thick cum coating all my fingers, and I can’t help but think what a waste this all was. I could’ve filled her up to the brim with this.
She swallows nervously. “Anyway I think it’s time for me to sleep. It’s getting late. We can meet another time”
“Yeah sure thing” I say, trying to catch my breath after that orgasm. “Sweet dreams, doll”
After she hangs up, I look at the mess on my hand. So filthy. And for some reason I do not feel ashamed of this behaviour. Probably for the fact I’ve made my mind up that she is mine, so I can do whatever the fuck I please.
And with that being said, I decide to pay the sleeping beauty a little visit tonight.
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Tagging: @touyalove @awalkingshame @mostlyheinous @dabislittlebeaniebaby @dabihawksluva @syrenkitsune
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bloatedandalone04 · 23 days
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The Lucky Ones - Part 2
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➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5
Word Count: 3k | Part 1
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms. 
You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?” 
“Please,”
You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”
Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?” 
“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”
Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”
You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely. 
When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids. 
So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not. 
Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?” 
“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him. 
You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?
The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.
Like how you’re looking for him. 
You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”
“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now. 
“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”
Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”
There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”
Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”
That was true. 
Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.
That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since. 
He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard. 
You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone. 
“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”
Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”
You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod. 
-
“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards. 
“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it. 
His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you. 
“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard. 
��I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words. 
“Do you think she made it out?”
“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.” 
Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost. 
Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into. 
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.” 
“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring? 
He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her. 
“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.” 
He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too. 
-
When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?
Rick might be alive. 
Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.
They’re alive. 
You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you. 
There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have. 
You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison. 
Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest. 
You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay. 
You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job. 
Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.
Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms. 
His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest. 
You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere. 
But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them. 
“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”
It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”
Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure. 
You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”
Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it. 
You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.
Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick. 
“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”
Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”
He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,” 
You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”
“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”
“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.
He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”
You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”
Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away. 
“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.” 
And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated. 
Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.
You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay. 
The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”
You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,” 
Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you. 
“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.
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killshotbabe · 1 year
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Title | Creepin’
Pairing | University student!Mark x reader ft. nct dream (minor appearances)
Warning (s) | minors dni! NSFW, Use of swear words, really mean!Mark, stalker and simp reader, solo masturbation, rough handling (to reader), degradation, name-calling, dirty talk, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, smut, unprotected sex (please wear protection!), creampie, public rough sex
Word count | 2.8 k ish…?
Song(s) | Toxic - RealestK, U&I - The NBHD
“Hey, time to go.”
The familiar voice of your friend stirred you out of your nonsensical dream, causing what seemed to be an audible gasp from her when you reached out so suddenly, all startled.
“Dude.”
“It’s always this fucking bean bag, sorry.” You mumbled, letting her hand go. You carefully stood up to stretch, the mini blanket you brought landing on the carpet floor. “How long was I out?”
Your friend glanced on her wristwatch with a hum. It downed to you that it was indeed time to go when you saw her with her coat on, books on-hand. You retrieved your blanket off the floor and folded it carefully.
“Like two hours tops? Our bus comes in like fifteen.”
“Well, you can go. I’m gonna get my sis to pick me up later instead.” You say, wanting to stay at least another hour to make up for the supposedly “study” date but you were so exhausted and told your friend you’d take a twenty nap only to end up sleeping for two hours.
You didn’t tell her to wake you up after twenty though, and you didn’t set an alarm too thinking your body would do the favour for you but that was still a dumb decision especially when the small booth you rented with her had a really comfortable looking bean-bag where students rest or even go as far as sleep on.
Unfortunately, you’re always a victim (and so is everybody else).
“What! You’re ditching me agaaaain,” She grumbled, bottom lip jutting out trying to spite you but she knew you’d just chuckle at her cute efforts.
“You literally get off the bus after five stops and leave me dude. But seriously, go home your pup’s probably looking for you right now.”
“Right! Ok, fine text me when you’re safe and sound though ok? Don’t want to lose my “study” buddy who loves getting her beauty sleep.”
Your opened your mouth to try and come up with a smart insult but you sighed, a matching smile gracing the both of you.
“You had no right to say that! But hey, I’m often available for you so…”
“True! I’ll see you next time then and will text you if we end up renting a different booth.”
Your friend blew a flying kiss which you jokingly grimaced at and made sure to escort her out of the entrance, reminding her to text you when she’s home (and if she could send a pic of her new pup too through messages you’d truly appreciate that) before you made your way back to the booth.
The clock read 5:45 pm and the window was absent of any daylight, plunging the whole room in semi-darkness until you decided it would be best to turn the lamp on which had been plugged to the table for use.
You spend another thirty minutes typing up study material for the incoming finals season until you slowly packed your things, one hand trying to rub the threatening surge of sleep terrorizing your eyes.
You stretched your arms above your head before you slipped your coat on, humming to yourself as you informed your sister you’d be home a little later and to not lock the gates so it’d be easier for you to get in especially when it’s dark out now and there were way too many creeps lurking in the alleyways of your neighbourhood despite the cold mid-October weather.
You could get her to pick you up — the option was there but you like taking public transit even at this hour because you knew it’d still be somewhat full and if it wasn’t, you didn’t mind having time for yourself as you drown yourself in music from your headphones, gaze falling to the window next to you as you watched a whole strip of sidewalks and tall buildings with an occasional bridge on sight.
You saw your friend’s message and replied back to it too, grinning at the picture of her pup learning a new trick. You sent her a quick reply before heading downstairs to make your way to the second floor of the library. There were still a lot of people at this hour so you weren’t really worried about being alone at this time.
Sometimes, you do stay just before 10 am but that usually takes place when there’s a group research, or if you need to do more studying. Studying at home didn’t really work for you, especially when your desk is just right next to your cozy-looking bed so the university’s gigantic library was the best option.
You tuck your phone into your pocket as you rounded yourself into another wing, your brain automatically leading you to your destination; another row of open study booths near the science department.
With your headphones strapped on, you search for an empty table near the dim-lit hall, claiming the one facing one of the meeting rooms filled with students majoring in medicine. The room in front of you is usually booked by the same group of people, one of them being your long-time crush for two years now.
Mark Lee.
You grin to yourself when you propped your laptop open, noticing the familiar head full of dark hair above the transparent glass along with those signature doe eyes. You can’t see the rest of his face because of the frosted glass but you could tell what expression he had. He looked quite focus, typing something down so intensely. He would look at the speaker (that being Jaemin, which your friend knew since they did share a class once back when they were taking classes for faculty admissions) then nod to himself. He would raise his hand too for the sole purpose of sharing his opinions on whatever topic they’re discussing.
Sometimes, you find yourself wondering why you didn’t gun for nursing just like them but you weren’t good with blood and nursing didn’t interest you just like the rest of the medical-related jobs. It was on demand, yes, but you were perfectly fine with pursuing finance. It promised great money, though, it would have been nice if you were in the same field as your crush. At least then you’d have the same interest and that would count as some sort of a connection between you and him.
However, there’s a part of you not wanting to get it out there and to actually introduce yourself to Mark, try to see if he’d give you his number or go off the rails with your imaginations and delusions running wild in your head. You like to think you’re not that crazy, just a little weird for thinking about Mark that way when he could turn out to be the worst guy in the planet but so far, there was no indication of that or him having a girlfriend at all. If he had, you’d find out by now but even then, you think it won’t stop you from liking him for a reason you don’t really like to admit.
You liked to follow him around, peeking in small corners and sometimes attend some of his out-of-school activities with your friend or alone, and you were quite consistent, though you made sure you stood far away from him so you can watch him play and have fun without having him figure it all out and confront you as to why you’ve been steadily following him around for two years now.
You don’t even follow him on social media because his account is private but you do visit his profile sometimes, even going as far on keeping track of his friends with accounts set to public like Chenle, another promising nurse from their group. He would come through often with pictures that involve Mark and you would take screenshots here and there and save all of it in the hidden category in case your friend needed to use your phone.
Most of them knew about your crush on Mark but not to that extent.
One of them did go with you to attend two of his rugby matches but they thought it was just that and you weren’t going to go home to sift through any local newspapers online or stalk the rugby league he’s a part of.
You knew it was getting unhealthy, maybe it might scare anyone off if they did find out but you kept it a bay.
It was like your dirty little secret and crushing on him was just so fun, especially when he has zero idea about it all. You’ve never even made an eye-contact with him and you’re not really sure why that doesn’t upset you.
You just don’t want to be acknowledged, that’s all. It’s a bizarre thing to say but if Mark did find out and decided to do something about it, you think you’d probably want to run away and never be seen again so up until now, you did nothing to earn his attention nor tried anything to have him befriend you.
When you have decided it was time to go after what seemed like forever, you cast a final glance to where Mark and his friends were. They were still inside, no longer having a discussion but rather chatted about where they’re going tonight. It’s Friday after all and you know they always had plans every Friday. You made no effort to follow him when it came to that though… Not when you have no car and for some reason, you didn’t want to find out where he lived even when a friend told you they all lived in a suburban neighbourhood close by the university unlike you who resided on the north side opposite of theirs which required you to take two buses to get home.
It didn’t bother you though.
You’ve always wanted to attend this particular university even if you could have settled for the smaller one ten minutes from home, and if moving there for the sake of your safety (especially on nights like this) was on the table but that would mean you’d have to stop following Mark, you wouldn’t even opt for it. Not even in a heartbeat.
Mark, you find, is like some sort of a God you idolize. You think about him whenever you do anything, especially when you’re studying.
Seeing him be so diligent and fully committed in doing well in school inspired you to do same, if not better. So moving away from him would probably affect you drastically. You’ve had it in your head every passing time whenever you’re met with a possibility of getting physically assaulted or yanked off the streets in the dead of the night from university but whenever you make it back home safe and sound, it gives you some sort relief until it turned into an endless cycle.
And you weren’t going to give it all up.
He was your lucky charm through it all and you’d like to keep pushing until God knows when.
You’re not sure when either but you’re having fun and that’s all that matters, right?
“Yo, let’s go.”
Your gaze flew back to your keyboard, refusing to check whoever walked out of the room.
You waited until they all left, only checking back until you could only make out Mark’s black backpack as they headed downstairs. He wore all black today but kept his navy scrub pants on. You’ve seen him wear full on scrubs from time to time and he looked too great — his broad shoulders causing you to go all numb on the spot.
It was made for him and you couldn’t help but ogle whenever he put on fitted clothes. It gets even worse when you see him with his rugby uniform on, and although it’s a sin to admit what you do after every match you’d voluntarily attend just to see him play, you can’t help but release the ache you feel between your legs. Not only do you love his face but his lean, muscular body too especially his strong thighs.
There have been so many things where you dreamed of him having so close to you, even going as far as doing things to him you’ve never done to a boy before and it only spiralled to constant wet dreams that drove you nuts. It would piss you off quite often too because then you’d think about it whenever you space out in public which yanked you to a sudden jolt of embarrassment coursing through your bloodstream.
He was just so hot, and even if you felt guilty for having those type of sinful thoughts about someone who doesn’t even know you, you think it might be the “thrill” that drew your near the edge.
The thrill of him not knowing…
The thrill of him looking so busy and unbothered just a few feet from you when he gets you all worked up in your imaginations…
He doesn’t even know anything…
Anything at all…
You squeeze your thighs together, sighing under your breath as you waited inside the glass shelter, looking forward to go home and shower — specifically thinking of the new shower head you bought for yourself with different water pressure points, only using it for your pleasure with that one person wrecking havoc in your head like always.
It was fun. So much fun.
You find yourself being his shadow for the next month. It might have gotten worse, you think.
You’ve never touched him though.
By worse, it meant you followed him almost every day but made sure he didn’t actually notice. You were good with your methods especially now that you have car for a while since your mom will be out of town for two months if not more. She gave you the liberty of using it so you can get better at driving especially when it’s now the month of December and it started to snow heavily, making it difficult for you to take the bus home.
You hum, unbuckling your seatbelt as you parked right in front of moon drive in, a diner Mark and the boys frequented to. Sometimes there would be girls tagging along but none of them were with Mark. You did come close to hearing one of them flirt with him though but he’d only laugh it off and you can’t help but snicker to yourself as you listened to their conversations behind your seat.
This would be the fourth time you went. It was originally for the purpose of “following” Mark but you find yourself coming back for your usual — classic fries and a chicken burger paired with a strawberry milkshake.
You even brought one of your friends here last week but tonight you came alone craving a fast food fix. You didn’t even think of Mark at all but much to your surprise, he was actually there with Haechan and Renjun (more names to label very familiar faces) and they were laughing about something you can’t quite pinpoint.
It was around midnight now and you planned to just do a take-out and go straight home so you waited inside, acting oblivious about them being there.
It didn’t take quite long until your take-out bag was ready so you made a move, walking out of the diner and to your car. You think of how gorgeous Mark looked tonight even if it was just a quick glimpse you had greedily stolen before you drove off, a grin on your face.
What you didn’t know though, was when your back was completely turned to them when you were paying for your order, Mark spared you a glance, head tilted to the side.
And when you left, you completely missed the way he smirked at you on your way out.
“Ok, that’s enough studying for me I think my head is about to explode.”
You’re back in the library at the main campus now just a few weeks later. You actually studied without a break this time and took it like a champ even if the exhaustion from your head had mentally taken over, giving you a pounding head ache.
“Are you leaving now?”
You yawned, gesturing towards the clock behind your friend. “It’s almost sunset.”
“Yeah, and I gotta meal prep for next week.” She cleared her side rather quickly. Next thing you know, she was all packed up and ready to go. “Don’t stay in too late ok?”
“Maybe. You know I got a car now so I’d probably overstay.”
She raised a brow with a giggle. “Yeah, yeah you smartass. See you next week then?”
“Sure! Careful on your way out it’s snowing again!”
In a hushed silence, you inwardly groaned and began packing your things up as well to head down the second floor to see if Mark was there. You heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that he had the flu so he might not be there today but it didn’t hurt to check so that’s what you did.
Surprisingly though, a different group took over the room Mark and the boys rented so you made a detour, checking to see if any of them are using the gym tonight. You knew Mark, Jaemin and Jeno would frequent over there and honestly, you might have started having a little crush on Jeno too so you make your way down to the separate complex for that one purpose — if Mark wasn’t there, then Jeno would do, and maybe you can hit up the treadmill for a bit to cross the “stay active” off your to-do list for today.
You don’t even know how your attraction for Jeno started actually. Jeno was always there, all smiley and always bickered with Jaemin but ever since his jet-black hair started growing longer behind his nape, something shifted in his aura and you liked it. He’s just as conventionally attractive as Mark and he too, had a great body. You found out that one time when you saw him doing waterpolo with Jisung which made you go a little crazy.
You don’t know much about him though, so Mark was still your number one of course.
None of the boys were in the gym tonight but since you’ve always wanted to use the treadmill without the gym being too overly crowded, you decided to do just that. You spent forty minutes on it going between slow and vigorous before you called it quits and gunned for the shower to wash away the sweat on your skin.
No one was in the showers so you didn’t bother hiding your modesty, even going as far as being fully naked in the dim-lit hall as you darted in the last stall, music blasting off your phone you left on the bench just a foot away along with your belongings.
You let the warm water cascade down your body, eyes closing at the calming sensation it brought as it washed the sweat and stress away into the drain under your foot. You stayed in until the clear mist from the hot water climbed into the atmosphere, wrapping around you like a cloud of comfort. You then hummed, soaping up the curves of your body as you feel yourself get lost in your thoughts, suddenly thinking of Mark when you snaked your hand to cup your sex, already slick with pure arousal.
You practically shook, feeling how too sensitive you’ve gotten when you continued your erotic ministrations before you slipped in a finger in, a sweet moan spilling out of your throat. You fingered yourself whilst standing, free hand cupping and pinching your hard nipples as you let your fingers do you wonders, ultimately sending you over the edge when you thought of Mark’s skilled tongue playing with your clit before he fucked you with just that, eating you out like a starved man you imagined him to be when eating pussy.
You held yourself, growing weaker against the tiled walls as you slowly regained full consciousness after going through such euphoric state, smiling to yourself. You eventually darted back out, wet hair in a bun and took the elevator because you didn’t have the strength to take the stairs especially after doing all of that.
It was then you realized, as you headed to the front door, that you’re quite stranded in the building for now. The snowstorm had gotten worse. You couldn’t even see anything through the glass walls.
“You waiting for the bus?” The security on site asked. “Doesn’t look that good out there.”
“No, I drove here but… yeah, looks like I gotta wait it out.” You nod your head in agreement, a little pissed off at the sudden turn of events.
You knew the weather was unpredictable lately but you thought it wouldn’t get this bad until tonight.
“Check again in an hour maybe? If not, the library is open 24/7 so… you know how it goes over here.”
You didn’t look forward to that all but if staying here overnight was better, you had no choice. You didn’t want to risk anything, not when you’re still a novice driver. You’d be playing with death if you still chose to suck it up and try to drive in this type of weather.
“Yeah, thanks. Have a good eve sir!”
“You too, young lady.”
You texted your sister about the current weather and how you’d probably get home later or might sleep here overnight if the snowstorm doesn’t lay off with a pursed lip then took another detour, going back upstairs to the lounge area and see if there’s a spot you could rest at for the time-being. You find one overlooking the parking lot where your car is but made sure you’re tucked away from the students preparing for their finals so you can snooze in peace which you succumbed to right away, missing the fact that Mark had gone his way back up, slightly frustrated at the bad weather.
When he saw your sleeping figure hiding in a dark corner though, he could only raise a brow.
Your wristwatch read 10:45 pm by the time you woke up, panic in your eyes when you realized you’ve overslept. The floor you’re currently on had gone too quiet, so quiet you thought you were the only one left if it’s not for a small number of students typing away furiously, one of them sipping on a coffee cup.
The weather had been better so you take that sign to leave, yawning your way to the elevator. You were still quite sleepy and so out of it you haven’t even even realized you were not alone in the elevator as it brought you to the basement when you were meant to press ground floor.
It didn’t even hit you until you simply walked out, met with a plethora of cars only to stop on your tracks, seeing as this was not the ground floor.
You were about to turn around and head back to the elevator when a strong arm yanked you to a dark corner, making you gasp.
“How was it?”
Your eyes rounded in shock as you registered the very familiar face just inches away from yours. You have been caged between his arms, your back to what looked like the sleek, black car he drove to the campus. You weren’t sure if you were still dreaming because if you were, you didn’t want it to end.
“Mark?”
You swallowed a lump in your throat, quite dazed seeing him up close. He’s way too gorgeous, doe-eyes pinning you down. The smell of his clean cologne making you sigh in frenzy, but he didn’t look too happy.
He chuckled darkly, his grip around your wrists tightening like he meant to hurt you.
“I don’t even fucking know you.” He growled, deadly poison coating his words. “You’ve been following me around, haven’t you? How was it? You had fun?”
“N-no.” You lied, your eyes practically quivering in excitement. Was this real life? “I wasn’t following you.”
“I’m not dumb.” He squinted in annoyance, scrutinizing the way you reacted to his confrontation. “What the hell do you want? I even saw you at the diner. It’s not funny anymore.”
You wanted to laugh, but you liked the way his torso brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but to felt something aching in between your thighs again. He came off mean, which is something you didn’t really imagine, but you loved it so much. It drove you to something more sinister so you pressed on, pretending you’re so damn clueless about what he’s trying to get out from you.
Like you were so innocent… So unaware of it all.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re saying that when you know my name.” He clenched his jaw, losing a bit of his patience due to your playful nature which he didn’t really expect. “Admit it already. You’re caught.”
You could only grin, blinking slowly at him as you watched his chest rise and fall against yours. You could feel your nipples starting to be harden the more he got closer. Oh, how you wished for days like this to come true… You wanted for it be a literal dream but this was so, so much better.
“What if you’re wrong? I could report you.” You joked, watching him attentively. He smelled so damn good you were having a hard time trying to resist him so badly.
“Nothing to report when I have receipts. You think you’re slick?”
Your smile widened. Receipts? So turns out, he was creeping on you too it seems and you don’t know how to feel that, about all of this when you’ve fought so hard to keep your secrets under the wraps, forever tucked away from anyone to see or find out.
But Mark wasn’t oblivious. He knew there was something off when you would show up to his games even if it rained. He asked his team mates if anyone of them knew you but no one did, and for a couple of days he thought it was because you liked watching Rugby until he caught you taking a picture of him walking out of the diner. It all came together when he would notice you occupying the lone table facing the room him and his friends would be at quite often so he took it upon himself to puzzle everything together and made the connection.
There was no last straw, however.
At first, it was quite charming. It was a normal thing for him even in high school with so many girls chasing after him but he started seeing you everywhere he went and that made him a little insane which then lead to a strong desire to confront you, preferably alone without the usual friend you’d come with for study sessions, and much to his dismay, tonight was the good time.
He thought about approaching you about it in nicer way, but the “nice” demeanour had dissipated and he thinks it’s because you’ve started to look at Jeno too.
Was it jealousy?
He didn’t even like you like that. You were an actual stranger to him, so why is he suddenly so worked up about you possibly being into Jeno, too?
“Oh, you keep ‘em?” You tried to wiggle away from his vice grip but he just made it worse, further catering to your suffering. “Hey, you’re gonna leave a bruise on me…”
“Don’t care.” He placed your arms over your head now, your sweet vanilla scent catapulting him away from the scandalous thoughts of him making you suffer as you whined for him to let go but he refused. “Don’t change the subject and answer my damn question. Why are you doing this?”
“I just… like you.” You admitted truthfully, the funny feeling in your stomach making you sigh, eyes searching something in his but all you saw was pure anger mixed with something you hoped might be true. “I didn’t touch you or show up in front of your house so I don’t get why you’re so angry, Markie…”
The pet name.
He thinks his friends wouldn’t let that slip but he knows where you got it from. It wasn’t a play or a coincidence. He knew what you were doing but he couldn’t stop that pet name from rolling out of your tongue. It did nothing but have his blood rush straight to his dick.
“Don’t call me that.” He huffed, too aware of the way your hard nipples pressed against his. “You don’t know who you’re trying to provoke.”
“What do you mean?” You wondered, almost moaning at the hard ridge of his cock pressing on your clothed cunt. You couldn’t believe it. He was so hard. Did he love that pet name so much? “You’re so hard… Are you still angry?”
“Stop!” He suddenly yelled, backing off you when you attempted to grind on him.
You let your hands fall loose to your side, watching his pretty features crumble but his eyes were still burning a hole through your head and you think that if you don’t move now, he might just take you and show you what hell feels like.
“If that’s what you want…”
You diverted your gaze down to his pants, mouth watering at how hard he’s gotten. He looked big and it made the ache between your legs more mind-numbing, your growing wet cunt pulsing around nothing. You gradually advanced to him, testing the waters before pinning him to the wall, the difference between your heights so drastic it almost came off funny but he let you run your hand down from his chest, to his abs then finally, to his hard-on painfully standing upright in his pants.
You’ve never even attempted this to anyone before but suddenly, you had the full reigns of what he started and you weren’t going to let him win.
Or so… you think.
“Stop it…” He exhaled heavily, almost begging as he clamped his eyes close when you bit his ear, licking the shell before you placed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, your surging arousal practically bubbling up you think your underwear wouldn’t be able to hold it up if you kept up with this. “I don’t even know you.”
“But you’re reacting quite the opposite.” You stopped to look at him in the eye, yours and his equally blown with nothing but lust. “You like being watched, Markie?”
He didn’t respond as his hands formed into fists. You were just about to kiss him on the neck again when he grabbed you by yours, quickly flipping your positions.
You whimpered in pain when your back collided against the brick wall, about to cuss him out for handling you like that when he crashed his lips into yours. He went in too hard until your bottom lip started to bleed after he bit into your soft flesh, his palm flexed around your little throat, choking you but not enough to render you unconscious.
There was a muffled “mhmff” from you as you pounded your fists against his chest, unable to breathe from how rough he was kissing you like he was about to eat you and swallow you up with no mercy. You were about to bite him back when he lets you go, trapping you against the wall, the sweet taste of his minty mouth mixed with your blood causing you to lick your lip, tasting iron, ignoring the fact that it stung all because of him.
If anything, it didn’t anger you at all but aroused you even more. You liked the fact that he was like this to you.
“I didn’t want to do anything with you.” He declared with a glare, but his next move proved otherwise. “But I’m not letting you touch me like you own me.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit too late now?”
You didn’t miss the way he came closer and the way he darted his mean gaze from yours and to your bleeding lips. You didn’t even bother wiping it off as you remained still, too entertained with the fact that he just kissed you. Hard.
“Did I give you the green light? No.” He whispered, sounding so cynical. “But I could touch you. You’ve violated me enough so I think it would be fair for me to do this, no?”
You were about to speak when he shut you up with his callused hand tight on your mouth, his free hand snaking down your hip to cup your pussy through your jeans. Your held your breath, knees about to buckle from the way he rubbed you in circles. You were so taken back, the violent rush of pressure sending you over the moon.
“You’re so desperate and insane. You kinda make me go a little crazy, but you don’t deserve to touch me.”
He bit through his words with so much hate as you grew weaker against him, unable to contain the shrill excitement and carnal desire hitting you like a truck. If he kept this up, you would probably cum in your jeans so you started to whine, grinding on his palm and begging for him to do something about it.
“Mark… Please…”
You let out a shaky gasp when he did allow you to speak, his head disappearing into the crook of your neck to kiss you there, way too turned on with the noises you were making and how you’ve gotten so fucking wet he can practically feel it through your jeans. He can’t help but bite your shoulder as he slipped his long, slender fingers inside your jeans groaning at how fucking soaked you were for him, it was almost embarrassing for you but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see how much you desired him.
You attempt to touch him but he quickly swats you away, telling you to keep your hands to yourself.
“I could fuck you with my fingers right now bet it’d just slip right in, huh? You’re fucking wet. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“N-no!” Your head fell back as your knees wobbled. You place your hand on his wrist as he played with your arousal, smearing it all over your clit and pussy lips. “God,”
“Hands off or I won’t fuck you.”
Was all he chided before you let go, keeping your hands flat to the wall as he slipped a finger inside your throbbing hole causing you tear up when he began pumping inside you in a exhilarating speed you thought you were going to pass out from too much pleasure it brought you. It got so bad that you had to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from screaming as the loud squelching of your wetness could be heard between the both of you.
“So fucking tight,” Mark scoffed coldly, liking the way you were taking him in, like your pussy was made for him and his fingers only. He couldn’t help but wonder if you can even take his cock too but he wasn’t going to let you have it easily.
“Faster… p-please!” You closed your eyes, tears falling nonstop you were so sure he’d be able to bring you to the edge with just his fingers. “I’m close, fuck…I’m-m.”
“I know you are, you dirty whore.” He pinned you deeper to the wall, slightly losing it when he felt your walls squeeze him, sucking his fingers further into your warm cunt. “Bet you thought about this in your sleep, right? Is this better? Now that I’m fucking you like this?”
“Yes!” You fisted on his shirt, mouth gaping open as he drove you closer into another orgasm, more powerful than all of the times you touched yourself combined and he hasn’t even fucked you with his cock just yet. “God! Mark, fuck!”
“Dirty fucking mouth you got,” He hissed, pumping his fingers faster and harder, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. “Keep it open if you’re such a good girl.”
Your mouth had gone slack as he coaxed your orgasm closer, your eyes shut tightly as your back arched for him, but just before he could let you cum, he yanked his fingers out of you making you swear out loud in frustration only to have him shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.
He loved how flushed you look and he thinks you’re prettier this way — all fucked out from just his fingers.
“You like how you taste?” He snarled, watching you lick the arousal off his middle finger whilst you whimpered at the sudden loss of contact even if you were so damn pissed for being edged like that. “Good, take it all in, yeah?”
“You’re an asshole.” You pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a loud pop followed by a scowl. “I was so close—”
The side of your face suddenly met the wall, Mark having to push you and have both of your arms on the curve of your back. You bite your lip upon realizing what he’s about to do next.
“I’m not that generous.” He placed his knee between your thighs, spreading them wider for him after he pulled your jeans down to your ankles along with your underwear. “Shut the fuck up and behave.”
You feel him move as you braced yourself, your pussy aching for his hard cock to be in you when you see him kneel on one knee behind you. You were about to say something when his tongue delved into your pussy, flicking it up and down to your folds, his hands grabbing a handful of your ass, groping you from behind.
“Fuck-fuck! S-so good, so good-d Mark…”
You babbled, right fist thumping to the wall with your left fully unzipping your coat so you could slither your free hand inside your shirt to cup one of your breasts as he slipped his tongue inside your wet hole, quickly bringing you back to the peak of your orgasm. You felt him lap your wetness in your pussy lips like how you’d imagined him to do, one of your hands going down south to play with your now swollen clit, ultimately sending you to you to the edge.
You hear Mark swear behind you as he stood back up, slapping your ass when your legs shook uncontrollably. You took a sharp breath before squirting right on the cement and on his shoes, your hand still putting pressure on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, spurts of clear liquid draining out of you too violently.
You thought you actually blacked out, only gaining full consciousness after you had squirted in front of him, the sound of him unbuckling his belt faint to your ears. It didn’t register that he was actually going to give it to you until he shoved his cock inside your soiled pussy in one go, the sudden stretch burning you. You nearly screamed and toppled over only to have him shut you up as he began pounding into you relentlessly, cursing at how good you took him so well.
“Fuck, I wasn’t gonna give it to you but you squirted you cockslut! so, so desperate for me huh? Is that it?”
His breathing shallowed as he tried not to cum inside you right there and then. You were so damn wet and too tight around him it felt amazing, way too amazing he thought he was going to lose it for a minute there but he fought to control himself, wanting to fuck you dumb and watch you cry as you struggle with his size.
“M-Mark!” You moaned loudly in defeat as you tried to open wider for him, his big cock rendering you numb and helpless like how he wanted it. “Wait, shit! God… oh my god…”
You pressed your hand on top of his which was now loose on your mouth until you urged him to slide his index finger inside the wet cavern of your sweet mouth, sucking on it to suppress your cries, tears dripping down your cheeks and on the floor along with the pool of your arousal from squirting minutes ago.
You whimpered pitifully, too overwhelmed with the brutal burn of his cock inside you as he fucked you faster and harder than before until your slick wetness coated his entire cock, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls. It wasn’t so long until the both of you finally reached your climax— with you coming hard first and out of nowhere which led him to spill his cum inside you after telling him you were clean and on pill which made it so, so much better.
You remained still, catching your breath as he collapsed on your back, his nose nuzzling your nape. The whole aftermath felt almost romantic, you thought.
“You keep my cum inside you like a good girl so you can keep a memory of me when you get home, yeah?”
He whispered in your ear with a certain bite, tone so wicked it brought shivers down your spine, and when it was time to face him after shamefully tugging your underwear back up, careful not to spill any of his cum out of you, you weren’t sure what to do so you wait until he fixed himself up before saying something.
“Hey.”
You tried to smile, but you were still so high from having sex with him in the basement parking lot you couldn’t help but to chuckle, not believing that this, in fact, actually happened.
“Don’t think we’re friends or anything.” He said, not looking at you as he smoothed his shirt down from you fisting on it earlier. “Don’t even know you like that.”
For some reason, you had already accepted it and seen it like that but still, you knew he had truthfully enjoyed this too. You can tell from how he’s looking at you right now or so you hoped.
“But can I… still like you?” There was a crack in your voice. Your round eyes practically begging him to change his mind about you.
“Sure, just stop liking Jeno.”
You stared at him in confusion, unable to discern how he came up with such accusation but it tickled your fancy. It actually made you tilt your head to down, tongue poking the side of your mouth, clearly amused upon realizing what he meant by that.
Guess you were so bad at hiding your tracks…
“Jeno?” You teased. “Your friend?”
“Stop liking him and I might just give it to you again. That’s it.”
“Oh, Markie,” You drawled seductively, the pink hue of your fair cheeks from post-sex rendering Mark sort off in trance-like state. You’re a pretty face for sure and he can’t deny that after all. “You only want me to be for you? As your play toy? How did you know?”
You attempt to touch his face only for him to grab your wrist with a vicious sneer.
“Don’t think you’re the only one watching.”
A sardonic grin graced his beautiful face, distracting you for a moment before he pulled you closer to him as if it was such a natural thing to do, his lips already brushing lightly to the shell of your ear to whisper what seemed to be a dire warning — like a harsh brewing storm about to wash you away and drown you into an endless abyss you can no longer escape out of.
“I’ve been watching you too.” Your mouth parted upon his confession as he nipped on your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist, fully claiming you. “…And I might be worse.”
A. N | Mark is currently bias wrecking me so hard right now I’m literally fighting for my life so I just had to let my frustrations out by writing this in one sitting. :)
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ieatangstforbreakfast · 3 months
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.
[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]
MASTERLIST
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“Miles, what would make you hate me?”
The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.
“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”
At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.
“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.
Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.
“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”
“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”
“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”
“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”
He thinks about it for a moment.
“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”
“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”
“No!” He rapidly shook his head.
“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”
“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”
“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”
“Well, you got a chance now.”
“How so?”
“You got me.”
You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.
“… I’ve got you?”
Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?
“F’course you do. We’re friends.”
Friends.
“Friends?” Just friends?
Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”
Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.
Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.
“You want some?”
You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.
“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”
“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”
Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”
“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”
“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”
“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.
“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”
You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.
“You’re welcome, princesa.”
Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”
His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?
You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.
Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.
“Sure, whatever.”
That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.
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Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.
The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.
Damn the rich, all of them.
Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.
Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.
When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.
He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.
“Did I make ya wait long?”
A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.
“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”
He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”
A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.
“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”
With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?
“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”
And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.
Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.
“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”
“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”
“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”
“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”
“How so?”
Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.
“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”
He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.
The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”
“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”
His head turns. “… I see.”
He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.
“.. So can you tell me?”
A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.
“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.
“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”
Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”
“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”
Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.
What would make him any different from the elites?
“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”
He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”
“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”
“Credible name?”
“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”
The boy swallowed.
“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”
And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’
And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.
“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”
The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”
“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”
Without missing a beat, he answered.
“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”
“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“
“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”
“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”
Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”
With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”
Planned? Planned by who?
Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?
“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”
“Then the Aureum building?”
“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”
Miles pondered and pondered.
“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”
“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”
“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”
Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”
“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”
“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”
It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.
“You know any of their names?”
“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”
Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.
Miles swallowed.
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It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”
“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”
“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”
Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”
“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”
Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.
“She from the finer part of York or what?”
“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”
Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”
“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”
“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.
“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”
Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”
“It ain’t like that.”
“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”
“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”
“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”
Miles didn’t reply.
As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.
“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.
“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”
“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”
“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”
Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.
“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”
.. Miles left seconds after.
It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.
His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.
He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.
But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.
Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?
An illegitimate child. Which one was it?
Your brothers, who had everything?
Or you, who had nothing?
And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.
And you could still taste blood in your mouth.
You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.
The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.
Snap.
Snap.
SNAP.
The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.
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“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.
Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.
“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.
Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.
Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.
“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”
You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”
The lights dawned upon the both of you.
“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.
You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”
Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”
“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”
You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.
“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”
“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”
You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.
“Is that a threat?”
“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”
You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”
“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”
You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”
“Sure.”
Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.
No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.
But could Miles do it?
Could he actually change you? Humanize you?
Make you kind and loving, and normal?
You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad��s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”
“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.
“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”
“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”
You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”
Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”
Oh, so like a normal family?
We were capable of having that this whole time?
“[Y/n]?”
You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”
“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”
“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”
The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”
Such a romantic.
“Do you think you can handle it?”
“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”
Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”
“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”
“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”
The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”
Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.
“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”
“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.
Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”
Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”
“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”
“But why?”
“Because I said so.”
You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.
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A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.
He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.
In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.
Then there was this drumming.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.
You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.
You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.
Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.
Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.
It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.
Really, who are you, [Y/n]?
Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?
And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?
“.. Miles?”
From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.
Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'
Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.
“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”
“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”
His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”
He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.
“.. Nightmare.”
Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.
Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.
“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”
His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”
He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.
You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.
You chose him.
But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?
Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”
Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.
“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”
“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”
“Me duele la cabeza.”
“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”
He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”
“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”
He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.
But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?
“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”
Rio sat in silence.
“.. Que?”
Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.
“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“
“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”
Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”
“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”
“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”
“Well, ma, it’s just..”
“Did she cheat on you!?”
“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”
“And then?”
“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”
“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”
“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”
“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”
“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”
“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.
“So.. Who’s the girl?”
Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”
“Mhm.”
“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”
“Oh, so she’s an artist?”
Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”
Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.
He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.
But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.
But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.
His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.
“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”
“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”
Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.
“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”
“Oh?”
“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”
“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”
He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.
“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”
“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”
Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.
“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”
Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.
Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.
“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”
The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”
“I can help—“
“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”
“But Ma—“
“Rest.”
And he did.
Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.
her ♡ || two minutes ago.
sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭
remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date
i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad
if you want, we can do it tomorrow.
Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.
So he waited for another five minutes.
.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.
He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.
‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’
“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”
He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.
“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”
‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!
‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’
“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”
It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.
A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.
“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.
He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.
Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.
As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.
He peers through it, before kicking it away.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.
But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.
It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.
Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.
Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.
This belonged to his father’s.
He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.
A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.
Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.
It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.
“Miles, do you want juice?”
“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”
His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.
Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.
There was a USB.
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“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”
Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.
As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.
The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.
And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.
Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”
You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”
One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.
Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”
“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”
Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”
You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”
Wait. What? WHAT?
Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?
I’m just as shocked as every other person.
“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”
“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”
“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”
“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”
You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.
A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.
You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.
Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.
The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.
It was your own greed that was worsening you.
Your desire to have a tantamount of power.
But what if you never needed it?
“Miss!”
What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?
“Miss [Y/n]!”
.. But what about Miles?
He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.
“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.
Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.
As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.
“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”
“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”
“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”
You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”
The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.
Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.
“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”
The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.
“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”
“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“
Clack.
You turned your head.
What was that?
SOMEONE‘S HERE
No shit.
Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.
Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.
“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.
You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.
“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”
Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.
You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”
“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”
You tilted your head.
“Who would you like me to be?”
His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.
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[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]
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loveronlineee · 2 years
Text
Off Limits Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader)
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Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: Swearing
Synopsis: Dustin becomes slightly worried when Eddie seems interested in his older sister
Y/N notes: none
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“Dustin!” Y/N shouted as she approached her little brother’s table. “You forgot your lunch dummy.” She dropped the brown paper bag down in front of him.
“Oh thanks!” Dustin replied with a smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother’s lack of planning. She looked to Mike who was sitting next to him.
“Hey Mike, you alright?”
“Yeah I’m good thanks Y/N.”
“My juice isn’t here…” Dustin mumbled.
“What?”
“My juice! The juice Mom always packs us!” Y/N sighed and reached into her bag. She took out her own juice and slammed it down on the table.
“Next time I’m not gonna be so nice.” She closed her bag. “You got your club thing after school today yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay I’ll pick you up after.” Y/N began to walk away when she was stopped by a loud voice.
“Dustin!” Eddie shouted from the head of the table. “You never told me Y/N was your sister.” He smirked as his head tilted to the side. Dustin quirked an eyebrow.
“Uh yeah we have the same last name. Thought you knew.” Dustin replied, confused as to why he cared. He looked back at his sister. “Uh Y/N this is-“
“Eddie Munson. Yeah I know.” Y/N said, giving him a quick polite smile. “I gotta go. See you later.” Y/N began walking away. Eddie jumped up on the table, walked to the other end and jumped off. He began following Y/N to the soda machine near the exit. Dustin and Mike watched.
“Dude I think Eddie’s got the hots for your sister.”
“Whaaaaaat no. No way.” Dustin denied. In truth, he was thinking the same thing but didn’t want to believe it. He shook his head. “Even if he did, Y/N would never go out with someone like him. They’re like opposites.” He reassured. Mike looked back over to see Eddie had nearly caught up with Y/N.
“I don’t know man. Y/N’s never had a boyfriend despite a lotta guys approaching her. Maybe she has very specific tastes. And Eddie sure isn’t like anyone else.”
“Okay you’re not helping.”
“You seem to be in a hurry.” Eddie commented as Y/N waited in line to get a soda. “Or do you just not wanna be seen near the freak?”
“I’m studying. Math test last period.” Y/N replied as she stepped forward and scanned the drink choices. Eddie nodded and leaned against the machine.
“Good excuse. Avoiding the freak question.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head.
“I don’t think you’re a freak Eddie. Just because you dress a certain way and are loud as fuck, doesn’t mean you’re dangerous. If I thought you were, I sure as hell wouldn’t let Dustin be around you.”
“Huh.” Eddie wasn’t expecting that. “Well uh thanks… then.” He smiled before putting the change from his pocket into the machine. Y/N stopped. She already had her own money in hand.
“Uh thanks to you too.” She pressed the button for the coke and one fell out. She picked it up and proceeded to put in her own change to get a second can. She handed it to Eddie. “See ya later.”
Eddie watched as she walked off. He headed back to his table with a spring in his step. Dustin was now glaring at him.
“What did you say to her?” Eddie sat back down and shrugged. He opened the can.
“Not much.” He answered vaguely before taking a sip of coke. “She gave me this though. Think it’s a sign?” He joked. Dustin pointed a finger at him.
“Don’t get too close with her.”
“Love works in mysterious ways my friend. I can’t help if she falls for my charms.”
“Dude shut the hell up you barely know her.” Mike giggled. Eddie pointed at him.
“Careful Wheeler. I know you got an older sister too.” Mike immediately stopped laughing.
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bettysupremacy · 2 years
Text
Eddie Munson x Henderson! reader Pt. 2
Summary: Eddie’s been waiting all day just to see Dustin’s sister again and now hellfire has run 30 minutes late.
Warnings: fem! Reader, cursing, fluff, broken walkmans, Dustin’s dead cat is mentioned, two idiots in love, no spoilers
A/N: here’s a part two for everyone who’s been patiently waiting. I didn’t realize y’all would like the first one so much😭 much love.
2.3k words
They’re running half an hour late. Eddie swears he’s tried to wrap up this campaign for the entirety of that half hour, but it’s gotten him nowhere.
“I think that’s a perfect place to leave off.” turned into “guys, we’re running late. No, I’m not late for anything. I’m just a very on schedule man, okay?” turned into “This is where we leave off! I refuse to DM any later then this very late hour of 6:30pm. Clean up your messes. Yes Gareth, I know where we’ve left off, thank you.”
So, much to the boys dismay, they clean up their messes and shove papers and dice into their binders. Not without Dustin grumbling about how they usually play well into 8 o’clock. His sister can wait another half hour. Come on!
They’re still shuffling to get everything picked up and put away when they hear a soft knocking at the door. Eddie flinches out of his skin. Gareth, who’s right next to him, looks at him startled. Who is that? There’s no one else it could be but her, all the teachers are gone and the janitor left 15 minutes ago. Oh my god, the room is still a mess. What is he going to do? His thoughts are cut off by Mike quickly opening the door-
Jesus Christ it’s just Jeff. Eddie completely forgot that he left to use the bathroom 5 minutes ago. He lets out a big breath of air in relief, slumping forward to grab the chair In front of him, and closing his eyes that are now hidden by his messy hair. He’s gotta fix that before he sees her.
Everyone’s staring at Eddie, and Jeff is paused in the doorway, hesitant to walk into the room after such a reaction from his dungeon master. What did he do?
“What.. what did I do?”
“Nothing Jeff,” Eddie waves him into the room, “we’re just cleaning up, cmon.”
He walks into the room, but not without looking at each of his party members confusedly. His gaze sticks a little longer on Gareth who’s now on the verge of tears from laughing at Eddie. Can someone tell him what’s going on?
“Did you think that was her?” Gareth manages to gasp out, he’s weak in his seat holding his stomach and wiping tears away from his lash line. His mind keeps replaying the way Eddie flinched at the thought of her seeing the room in this.. state.
Eddie promptly ignores him. He can’t get worked up right now. He’s gotta play it cool for her and he can’t do that if he’s worked up over his own party teasing him.
At the way Eddie ignores his question, Gareth is sucked into a new laughing fit so hard he fears he might start gagging. Jeff puts his hand on Gareth’s back, slowly rubbing up and down, hoping that the giggles will stop. He thinks it’s kinda.. cute.. of Eddie to be so head over heals for a girl.
“Yeah, yeah, so funny.” Eddie draws out “We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m the only one in this room with a girlfriend.”
“But.. me and Mike have girlfriends?” Dustin’s confusion has taken him so far aback, he hasn’t even realized that Eddie just said his sister was going to be his girlfriend.
That makes Eddie smile down at his DM folder he’s neatly packing up. Why does that make him smile? “Oh yeah, sure.” He lifts his eyes to Dustin’s “Except mine won’t conveniently live in another state, making it impossible for their friends to meet them.”
“Her name is Suzie, and she lives in Utah!”
“And shes hotter then Phoebe Cates?” Eddie’s hand is on his hip now.
“Yes! And she’s like really smart. She can hack into-”
Eddie shakes his head in amusement “Hey, can’t be hotter then your sister.”
Dustin gapes at him. What did Eddie just say? Mike has both hands over his mouth desperately trying not to laugh.
“You know what?” Dustin turns on his heel offended, and walks out the club door, not even waiting for Mike to catch up.
“Shit,” Eddie scrambles for his stuff. Before he leaves the room he runs his hands trough his hair, using a prop mirror to push his bangs into place, and smooths down his shirt. He will not have a remake of lunch.
He’s practically tripping over his feet to keep up with Dustin, who’s setting an imposible pace trying lose Eddie. He’s yelling apologies through the hall “I was joking! Kid! It as a joke, im sorry!” He doesn’t sound sorry though, he sounds like he’s about to bust out laughing.
When they push through those large high school doors, she’s the only in the big empty parking lot. She’s sitting on the hood of her car messing with something in her hands, while Sweet Leaf plays loudly in her car. Sweet Leaf. My God, he’s in love.
She hears the doors open and snaps her head up like she’s been expectantly waiting for something. Or someone.
She’s not wearing her cheer uniform anymore, just a large Back to The Future tee shirt Robin bought her and Steve as an inside joke (she’s been using it as a sleep shirt, but she was in a rush to get to Dustin), and denim shorts. Her hair looks like it’s in the process of drying. Did she take a shower? Also why does he suddenly have the urge to see her in his own shirt?
The “Dusty!” she yells out is wobbly like she’s holding something in, and he can hear the upset laced through it. He thinks he must’ve heard her wrong. That is until he sees her watery eyes and furrowed brows, and realizes he didn’t at all.
Dustin immediately thinks the worst, rushing over to her. They didn’t kill all the demodogs? Russians are back in Hawkins? No it’s not that, she’s handing him something. What is she handing him? Her.. walkman?
Even though she scared the shit out of him, he try’s not to get upset with her. Her Walkman was a gift from Steve and she treats it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, she’s never let him touch it either. Is it broken?
“You scared the shit outta me.” He breathes out, winded from running through the parking lot.
She looks genuinely sorry. “I’m sorry dusty,” She’s had that tight feeling in her throat since 5:30 when she got out the shower and saw her mothers cat treating her most beloved Walkman like a cat toy. The talking gives into her tight throat and she lets out a quiet sob. Oh, Eddie’s heart just broke a little. She sticks her Walkman in Dustin’s hands, “look.”
“Why are you handing me this?”
“Click play.”
“Oh.”
Her Walkman won’t play when he clicks the button.
“And! My Master of Reality cassette is stuck in there!”
Dustin frowns, “You love that cassette.”
“It’s my favorite one!” She sobs, dropping her head into her hands. She doesn’t fight the crying anymore. Only, she’s being so quiet that the only reason Eddie can tell she’s crying is because of how hard her shoulders are shaking. He wants to hug her so bad. So bad.
Dustin fiddles with it for a moment, bringing it up to his eye to look at it closer, before looking up at her and asking “what happened?”
She treats this thing like gold, she couldn’t have been the one to do this.
“Tews, that stupid fucker. I came into my room and he was tossing it around like it was a play toy. I thought maybe you could fix it”
Dustin’s just trying to distract her enough to quiet her sobs, he really doesn’t know if he can fix this, but worst case scenario he’d ask Steve if he would buy her a new one. And he would! Matter of fact, if Steve knew that this one was broken right now he’d insist on buying her a new one instead of Dustin fixing it himself.
“I hate that new cat,” another choked sob “I miss mews so much” now Dustin doesn’t know if she’s still crying about her Walkman or if she’s accidentally made herself start crying over their dead cat. That poor mangled cat.
Eddie thinks he hears her whisper out “so mangled” and wonders what the hell happened to their last cat. I mean mangled?
“I know, I know” he’s still fiddling with it. She looks like she wants to object when he starts softly hitting it, but she doesn’t.
“I liked Dart more than I like Tews. Dart’s face opens up, he’s a carnivore, and Tews is somehow still meaner!” She sniffles a little while Dustin nods, too engrossed with trying to see what’s wrong with the Walkman. “What was the candy you gave Dart down there??” down where? Eddie’s so confused. “Was it a.. Nougat?” Dustin nods again.
“Nougat! I’m gonna go back down there with a Nougat and bribe dart to come back up and kill Tews the way he killed Mews”
What? Okay. Now they’ve really lost Eddie. He looks over at Mike, expecting his confusion to be mirrored on the younger boys face. Why does Mike look like he understands what they’re talking about? What the hell?
Dustin let’s out a strangled laugh like he’s startled and pats her knee, “I think I’ll be able to fix it.”
She gasps, wiping the tears off her face harshly, “really?”
Dustin nods, “I might even be able to save Master of Reality.”
She hops of the car quickly and throws her arms around him ecstatic. Eddie hears a quiet chant of thank you’s. He could laugh at how quickly her mood changed. Like a mood ring in a warm fist he thinks. When she pulls away she remembers her promise of dinner and says “you guys are getting extra fries tonight.”
The excitement that bursts from the two youngest boys has her in wet laughs. She turns to Eddie and swears she has a heart attack when she realizes that he’s there too. When did he get there? Did he see her crying? Oh Christ she’s mortified.
“You can come too, if you want I mean. You don’t have to come if you don’t want-“
The boys excitement dies down quickly. Well, Dustin’s does. Mike still has a grin on his face. Before Dustin can object, Eddie rushes out “I want to come! I’ll come, if you want me to?”
“I want you to come.. if you want to come.”
A loud laugh bubbles out of him, startling her into a nervous laugh. They’re just repeating the same thing over and over. “Yeah, I want to come. But my car-“ he points behind him dramatically, smiling at her “is alllll the way back there. Do you wanna meet there?”
Her words mix and muddle with Dustin’s, as he says “no” and she says “yes” at the same time, but he wasn’t listening to Dustin. He was listening to her.
“Ok! Cool! So I’ll just-“ he makes to walk towards his car.
“We haven’t told you where we are eating yet?”
“Oh-“ he laughs a little, looking away to cover up his bright cheeks, just in case the dark of this cold fall night doesn’t. That’s actually a really good excuse. His face is just really.. really cold right now? Jesus Christ. “What- where are we gonna eat?”
She turns and gives an expectant look to where her brother just was, but he’s.. gone? She spins a full 360 looking for him and quickly realizes that he’s sitting in the dark car with Mike. He just really couldn’t stand to watch them stumble around each other any longer.
She lets out a breath of a laugh, and Eddie can see it in the cold air. “Jesus. he’s- he’s something.”
She walks up to the window and crouches so she can motion for him to roll the window down. When he does he looks severely unimpressed, arms crossed and looking cross himself. “What d’you and Mike want for dinner, Spock?”
He rolls his eyes at her teasing and says “You seem very in the mood for Enzo’s”
“Har har, very funny. What do you want for dinner Mike?”
“The diner on curly?”
“Perfect, thank you.”
She gets up and walks back to Eddie, feeling more prepared. “We’re gonna go to the diner on curly, do you know where that is?”
He nods, “I’ll see you there, pretty”
He didn’t mean to say that. He really didn’t mean to say that. Oh my god. What’s wrong with him? It wasn’t him being smooth, it was him having no filter! I need to buy a filter he thinks.
Meanwhile, her heart soars. He thinks I’m pretty?? She smiles so hard, so quickly, she turns her entire head away to look behind her.
He was hurriedly looking for any emotion he could find on her face, but when he sees her look away to hide that ever growing smile, he feels sweet relief. Suddenly he’s bursting with pride. Maybe he is smooth.
He’s smiling wide when she turns her head back to look at him, and she feels she needs to look away again just to escape his pretty smile.
“Yeah, I’ll see you there, Eddie.” She can’t even say it to his face, his attractiveness is blinding her.
He watches her quickly turn towards her car and climb in, before turning towards his own car himself. The smile never leaves his face.
He really needs to ask that girl out on a proper date.
Who wants a pt 3?
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lonelym00n · 1 year
Text
The End.
Part five of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series
Tara Carpenter x Reader
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Word Count: 8.9k
Summary: All good things must come to an end, even if the path to get there is a difficult one.
Warnings: Spoilers for Scream VI, some violence, and a few buckets of angst!
A/N: That's it, it's done! For my first ever series, it's not terrible! Sure it could be better, but I'll happily settle for it being good. I never would've thought that my silly oneshot would've turned into this, but I'm so glad it did!
The Carpenter’s apartment goes from being quiet enough to hear a pin drop, to the loud thunder of arguing voices. 
Sam orders Tara to pack a bag, to get all of her stuff together quickly so they can take off.
Tara refuses, stating that Sam is overacting and that she doesn’t want to disrupt her life here in New York.
While the sisters are locked in a battle of crossed swords, you are preoccupied with your own feelings of unease. Mindy has been eyeing you with something akin to skepticism for the past few minutes and you are desperately trying not to panic under her scrutiny.
You have an idea of the conclusion that she’s likely come to. The attacks occurred last night, the same night that everyone was conveniently accounted for inside the apartment. Everyone but you.
All the current signs point to you and as daunting as it is, you can’t deny that if you were in Mindy’s shoes, you’d suspect yourself too. It didn’t take a mind as sharp as Mindy’s to piece together what it might mean that Ghostface reappeared at the same time that you were absent.
A sliver of luck is evidently on your side, because no one else but Mindy has stopped to consider potential suspects. 
You know that it’s going to be hard to talk Mindy out of her distrust in you, but you have to attempt to sway her opinion before she notifies the rest of the group. 
Without alerting anyone else, you cautiously wave Mindy over to you. 
Begrudgingly, she makes her way across the room. Her arms are crossed firmly over her chest while you chew your lip nervously.
“I know how it looks, Minds, but it wasn’t me.”
She snorts, “You do realize that’s exactly what the killer would say, don’t you?”
You attempt to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This conversation was going to be harder than you thought. 
In the days that you were avoiding the rest of the group, Mindy had opened up to you about her trauma. She’d relayed that her uncle was known as the expert, the guy who knew just what to do to not only survive the killer, but to expose them. A ghost of a smile had appeared across her lips when she told you that she’d followed in his footsteps and taken up the same role. 
The task of convincing the expert that they’re wrong is overwhelmingly difficult, one incorrect move and no one will trust you for however long these attacks last.
“I swear that I went back to my room.”
There’s a wide and pleading look in your eyes, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to persuade her.
You’re scrambling for anything that can back up your alibi. “My roommate saw me! I can text her, shit I’ll call her.” 
Before you can dial the girl’s number, Mindy’s hand lands on your wrist. You snap your eyes up to meet hers.
“Alright, stop. I know how much you hate talking to her, you don’t have to call her.”
You heave out a sigh of relief. 
“You’re not off the hook completely, maybe you were at your dorm but there’s still a chance you could be lying. It’s not enough to check you off my list entirely, but I’ll leave it alone for now.”
“I get it,” swallowing thickly, you nod. 
 “Good.” 
Mindy turns to return back to the group, but stops short.
“You’re my friend and I care about you, but I won’t give you a second chance. If you screw up and do anything else that I find suspicious, I’ll make sure that none of us ever talk to you again.”
She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, but you don’t need to. You know she’d keep true to her word, and so you can only hope you don’t find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time again.
You remain in your spot against the wall for a while. It’s in your best interest to try and blend in, so you’re in no rush to reenter the room.
Most of the others are still sitting on the couch, Sam’s pacing back and forth on the phone. Tara stands in the entryway of her room with her arms crossed defiantly. 
Sam turns to face everyone, “I’m going down to the station.”
She strides over to the door and Tara speeds over before she can exit. 
“I’m coming with you.”
Sam goes to argue, but Tara cuts her off, “We’re supposed to stick together, aren’t we?”
Though you are situated directly adjacent to the entryway, neither of the Carpenter sisters spare you a glance as they leave the apartment.
A sense of apprehension creeps up into your chest, and though it’s glaringly obvious, you have a sinking suspicion that everything is about to go terribly wrong, terribly quickly.
Attempting to ignore the fact that you’ve now become a character in a real life horror movie, you survey the rest of the room once more. Mindy and Anika are hushedly whispering between themselves, Quinn has returned to her room, and Ethan is distracting Chad with some video on his phone.
You want to leave, to lock yourself into your dorm room to process the fact that there’s a pretty high chance that you might die at the hands of a knife-bearing psycho in a halloween costume, but you can’t. You can’t risk being alone right now, not only because you’d be privy to an attack, but because Mindy’s words haven’t stopped swirling around in your head. No second chance.
So, despite your want to be alone, you trudge over to the couch and perch on the edge of it. Your hands come up to cover your face as you try your best to think of anything other than the worst case scenario of the situation you’ve found yourself in. 
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you and the other occupants of the small apartment, another attack has occurred in the rundown bodega up the street. 
Sam and Tara, who just barely evaded the long-barrel of Ghostface’s shotgun, are now sitting in the precinct’s interrogation room, accompanied by Detective Wayne Bailey.
Once he receives both of the Carpenter’s alibis for the attack the night prior, he shifts his questioning to the other members of the group. 
Mindy and Chad are promptly vouched for, leaving you, Quinn, Anika, and Ethan vulnerable to Bailey’s queries. 
The gruff man asks about everyone else’s whereabouts last night, excluding Quinn who, as her father, he can check off the list.
A reluctant conversation silently takes place between the sisters.
Sam gives her sister a sorrowful look, as if to say, ‘We both know who wasn’t there, we have to tell him.’
Tara’s eyes widen, signaling her response, ‘But Sam-’
Sam places a heavy hand on Tara’s shoulder, patting it lightly. She turns to Detective Bailey.
“Anika, and Ethan stayed over at our apartment after the movie night.”
“And Y/N Y/L/N?”
Sam pauses, trying to avoid catching her sister’s pleading glance.
“She left late last night, we don’t know where she went.”
Bailey jots something down on his notepad before looking back up at the two sisters.
“We’ll call her in for questioning.”
Tara stays frozen in her seat, unmoving. All the while, her mind is shouting at her to jump to your defense. 
Her lips, however, remain pressed together in a thin, disconcerted line. She wants so badly to believe that you’re innocent, but a tiny nagging voice sings songs that you’re guilty and that you’re out for her blood, out to finish what Amber Freeman couldn’t.
Distantly, Tara notices that Bailey gets up to leave the room. She and Sam sit in silence, the older girl afraid to say anything in fear of upsetting her volatile sister.
Twenty minutes or so later, Detective Bailey returns.
“Before you ladies go, there’s someone here who wants to see you.”
The sisters stand and exit the room per Bailey’s instruction. A blond-haired woman shuffles forward. 
Sam’s eyes light up, “Kirby!” 
The blond chuckles, “Sam!” 
Kirby greets Tara, the small girl giving her a tight-lipped smile in return.
As the two catch-up, the sight of a figure being led in by an officer snags Tara’s attention. 
Back with the rest of the group, you remained in your own little bubble while everyone else chatted amongst themselves.
Following the pattern that has been laid out for you, your peace was quickly disturbed.
You had nearly dropped your phone when it rang loudly throughout the Carpenter’s apartment. You answered the call, only to be told by the police that you were to report to the station. The call was kept brief, but you knew the reason behind it nonetheless. 
Things only declined from that point forward. 
You were nervous, extremely so. You didn’t kill the film teacher, nor did you kill Jason or Greg, but the fact that you were being treated as a suspect for the murders had you anxious enough. 
You stood up on shaky legs, fumbling towards the door. Mindy pulled Anika closer to her at your haste, while Chad and Ethan merely side eyed you. 
No one said anything as you left, and despite the want to sob into your hoodie, you kept your head high and bit your tongue.
The officer who led you into the station was nice enough, her eyes didn’t scream guilty guilty guilty like your supposed friends’ did.
You kept your eyes firmly on your shoes throughout the walk. A tiny, familiar gasp made you stop short in your path.
You looked up and met Tara’s eyes. You were conflicted at how you felt when you looked at her, your usual longing and adoration joined by several other emotions. Heartache, desolation, and gut-wrenching hurt. 
She didn’t say anything to you, just blinked back at you with those gorgeous deep brown eyes, her expression completely unreadable.
You understood well enough that the cops were only aware of your potential involvement because someone had mentioned your name to them. You’d thought that Mindy had somehow silently tipped them off at first and sure, you were wounded by it, but the knowledge that it had been Tara? Well that nearly devastated you beyond repair.
If Mindy giving the police your name was a stab to the heart, then Tara having been the one to do it was six shots to the head and a complete dismemberment of your body. 
You were entirely conscious of what the girl had gone through with the Woodsboro attacks, and how her previous girlfriend had been the one behind it all. But even so, was it fair for Tara to be treating you this way?
Since you've fallen for the girl, she’s done nothing but emotionally harm you. It started with her flirtatious teasing that drew you into her like a blissfully unaware moth to a too bright flame. She’d had you hook, line, and sinker, but to worsen your infatuation, she’d kissed you. You were trapped by then, drowning in everything that came in the small package that was Tara Carpenter. 
Just as fast as she’d pulled you in, she’d pushed you away. She left you to piece yourself back together, and once you finally repaired the cracks, she was back, admitting that she’d wanted you all along.
And now, immediately after her admission, she’s accusing you of murder.
Though your head spun from the back-and-forth, you knew that you’d stupidly always be patiently waiting for her to reel you back in.
So no, it probably wasn’t fair for Tara to be treating you this way, but it wouldn’t stop you from wanting her all the same. How could you possibly distance yourself from her when she was all that you’d ever wanted? 
Your eyes sting with the familiar need to cry at how pathetic you feel. You’re hopelessly in love with the girl who thinks you’ve committed murder. Isn’t that just spect-fucking-tacular.
You throw her a dejected look and allow the officer to continue ushering you into the interrogation room. 
If Tara glances your way at any point after your nonverbal interaction, you don’t stop to notice. 
You have bigger fish to fry than your ill-advised love for her, like the fact that not only do she and all of your friends see you as a potential murderer, but the NYPD does too. 
You’re sitting in the room for a while, left to fester in the stale air. You’ve watched Criminal Minds and Law & Order, you know that this is a common tactic used to make criminals grow skittish. Though you are not a criminal, the biting silence in the room makes the tactic work on you all the same.
Your lip has been chewed raw and as you begin to faintly taste the sharp copper of blood, the heavy door swings open.
Two people walk in, introducing themselves as Detective Bailey and FBI Agent Kirby Reed.
Your skin pales at the title of the woman and the flash of her badge. They’d brought in an FBI Agent to question you?
They pull out the chairs in front of you and take a seat.
Detective Bailey clears his throat, “Y/N, we understand that you’re a friend of Samantha and Tara Carpenter.”
You nod tightly.
“We have reason to believe the sisters are under attack by a copycat Ghostface killer. Are you aware that both Carpenters were recently ambushed at a bodega near their apartment?”
The blood drains from your face at the mention of Ghostface by name. Wait-
“Tara was attacked?”
Kirby and Bailey exchange a look at your failure to include Sam in your question.
You, on the other hand, are mentally losing it. Tara was attacked, she must be so scared, so shaken up. It was easy to be distracted by your own involvement in the attacks, but god, this was Tara’s second time going through it. 
Seeing how panicked you are, Kirby has to refrain from placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“She’s okay, Sam too. Just a few cuts and scrapes here and there.”
The fact that she hadn’t been heavily injured comforts you. You nod to Kirby in thanks. 
Bailey, on the other hand, doesn’t care too much about your emotions. It’s clear that he’s taken over the bad cop persona, while Kirby plays the good cop. 
“So, where were you tonight?”
Oh right, you’re here to be interrogated for murder. Any thoughts of Tara’s wellbeing float away at the reminder that she gave your name to the cops for potential murder. 
“I was with Mindy, Anika, Chad, and Ethan, at Sam and Tara’s apartment. I came here as soon as I got the call.”
Bailey grunts and scribbles your response onto the notepad in front of him.
Once he’s done, he lifts his gaze up to meet yours and raises a singular, probing eyebrow.
“And what about last night?”
You bite your lip, suddenly feeling very fidgety.
“I went back to my dorm room and went to sleep.”
“Did anyone else see you? Can anyone confirm that?” Bailey stares you down, a tad bit menacingly. 
“My roommate, she saw me this morning before she left.”
Detective Bailey reluctantly accepts your answer, and requests your roommate's contact information to confirm that she’d seen you. You give it to him readily.
Kirby speaks up, voice gentle, “I just have a few more questions, and then we can let you go.”
Something about the way she’s treating you so kindly makes you even more anxious. Whether it’s that or her status as an FBI Agent, you aren’t sure.
She speaks slowly, like your English Lit professor does when she wants the class to catch on to the author’s analogy buried deep beneath the text.
“I specialize in determining whether certain murders have any connection to Ghostface. I know a lot about copycat killers, and what might motivate someone to put on a mask and become a ghostface.”
You get what she’s trying to convey. Boiling it all down, she’s good at telling Ghostface apart from non-ghostfaces. She can tell the guilty apart from the innocent. Wait that means-
Suddenly, you’re no longer scared of Kirby.
Suddenly, you’re hanging off of her every word like she’s a life raft in the middle of a barren ocean. And metaphorically, she is. She’s your last hope in the series of accusing fingers that have been pointed your way.
Her eyes gleam with the sense that you’ve understood her hidden implication. 
“So,” she pushes a singular photo in front of you, “Can you tell me who this is?”
The photo in front of you is a movie poster, with all the words edited off. A tall man stares down the camera, complete with blue coveralls and a pale white mask with tufts of hair coming out of the top. 
Though you aren’t a huge horror buff, you recognize the character. But is it right to know who he is, or should you lie?
“Um,” you swallow and pause for a second, “That’s Michael Myers, from Halloween.”
Kirby hums, and slides three more photos forward.
The first one has a character that wears a red and green striped sweater, with razors extending from his fingers. Freddy Krueger.
The second picture’s character is donning a menacing grin, and has distinct clown-like makeup on. If the makeup doesn’t give it away, the singular red balloon does. Pennywise.
The third character you are admittedly less familiar with. It’s a bald man with a stark white complexion. A series of nails adorn his head, and he has a long leather getup. In his palm, he displays a glowing box. Pinface? Pinhead?
You lift a sweaty hand to point at the first picture. Your voice is shaky, “Freddy Krueger from The Nightmare on Elm Street.”
You point to the second picture, “The movie IT, it’s Pennywise.”
Finally, your finger lands on the last picture. You’re hesitant, you think you know the answer but you’re still unsure if you should be getting these right or not. Would the killer know all these characters?
“I don’t know the name of the movie. And I’m not entirely sure, but I think that’s Pinhead.”
You think Kirby is pleased with your answer, because she simply collects the pictures and places them back into their folder. 
“I know it's a bit of a weird process, but it actually gives me a lot of information. That’s all I need from you, you can go now.”
Kirby’s face remains impassive, not revealing her current thoughts. Detective Bailey, on the other hand, is looking at you with something akin to a scowl.
You stand up, legs slightly wobbly. Kirby and Bailey get up to leave as well. Bailey continues down the hallway while Kirby holds the door for you. Before you can make it fully past the door frame, a strong hand landing on your shoulder makes you jump.
Kirby glances over her shoulder to make sure Bailey is out of earshot. She pulls a card out of her jacket and discreetly slides it into the front pocket of your sweatshirt. “Call me if you need something, or if anything happens. Especially if it’s anything that could be related to you-know-who.”
You look up at her gratefully, nodding. It’s her close-lipped way of saying she trusts you.
She releases your shoulder with a small pat, and you all but scramble out of the police station.
Once outside, you check your phone for any missed messages. Surprisingly, you see one from Mindy, telling you to meet her and everyone else at the park just off of campus. 
The same park that led to your Tara-related downward spiral. The same park that was home to the catalyst of your current separation from the rest of the group. Lovely, just lovely.
Reluctantly, you make your way over to the meeting spot, completely unsure of what horrible scenario would be awaiting you this time. 
Once at the park, you stop a distance away from the group to take in the scene. They’re seated together on the benches, the only empty seat next to Quinn. Mindy stands front and center, no doubt about to shed her expert wisdom on everyone.
As much as you’d rather turn and walk away, you shuffle forward and make your way over to sit next to Quinn. The group has gone silent at your arrival, but you keep your gaze firmly on your shoes, not wanting to face the judging looks that are being sent your way.
Mindy claps her hands together to break the tense silence, “Okay nerds, listen up. As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time.”
She takes a deep breath, “The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”
Anika interrupts with a question, “Um, what’s a requel?”
Mindy gives her a sweet smile, “You’re beautiful sweetie, let’s hold questions til the end.”
 After a few comments from Sam and Tara about Stab, Mindy launches into a ramble about sequels and requels and franchises. You’re listening distantly, but are more distracted by the weight of your own exhaustion. Being interrogated by two officers of the law took a lot more out of you than you thought it would.
Your thoughts are placed on a back burner at Ethan’s voice entering the conversation. 
“Am I in the friend group?” 
Mindy nods, along with a few others.
“Am I-,” his voice breaks slightly, “Am I gonna die a virgin?” 
Mindy laughs through her nose, sharing a look with Anika at the boy’s admittance. 
“Weird overshare, but that brings us to our suspects.” 
You stiffen at the mention of the group’s suspects. So that’s why she’d texted you to come, not just to explain the rules, but to ridicule you in front of everyone.
She gestures towards the flustered boy, “Ethan, the shy dorky kid who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”
He splutters for a moment, “Wait- I’m a suspect just because I’m Chad’s roommate?”
Mindy scoffs, “Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could’ve fixed it to get closer to us.”
He remains silent, dumbfounded. Mindy moves on.
“Quinn, the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic!”
Quinn arches a perfectly plucked brow, “Sex positive, but thank you?”
Mindy rolls her eyes at the terminology. “How’d you end up rooming with Sam and Tara?”
“I answered their ad online?” She glances at the Carpenters.
“Say no more!” Mindy barks out a laugh, “You’ve already implicated yourself!”
Sam, sensing that Mindy is getting a bit too carried away with her antics steps in, “It was an anonymous ad, Mindy.
Tara nods, “Plus we vetted her, and her dad’s a cop.”
Mindy’s eyes widen and she exclaims, “‘Cuz having a cop dad is the perfect cover, do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?!”
Tara sits back in her seat, huffing.
Mindy shifts her attention to her girlfriend, “Next up, Anika.” 
The girl blows her a kiss and Mindy catches it goofily. Her face quickly morphs into a straight look, “Never trust the love interest.”
Anika pales.
“And finally, speaking of love interests.” The horror-loving girl whips to your direction, and regards you more seriously than she had the others. You want nothing more than to shrivel up and shrink down to the size of an ant.
“Y/N, who might I remind everyone, we met while she was wearing a devil costume.”
The feeling of everyone’s eyes burning into you makes you want to throw up. 
“We’ve known you the least amount of time, and I can’t be the only one who finds it weird that the only people you’re friends with are here right now. A killer, clearly trying to keep all ties short.”
You flinch and open your mouth to respond, but Mindy continues.
“You were noticeably absent the same night the killings began. And if that doesn’t implicate you enough, your perfect motive will.”
Though you want to scream at how unfair this is, you can only sigh and give in. At this point, you’ve realized there’s nothing you can do to make yourself seem less suspicious. They all think it’s you, so why defend yourself when it would only fall on ears that are unwilling to listen?
 “And what would my motive be?”
Mindy grins, victoriously. 
“You’re in love with Tara, and not just surface level love, no no no.” She laughs to herself, “You’re actually in love with her, and it goes so far deep that there’s no way out of it.”
The urge to throw up and empty your guts is stronger than ever. You’re pissed, but more so shocked that Mindy has stooped so far as to reveal this to the whole group. And right in front of Tara. She knows now, knows everything. The girl who can’t even decide if she wants to be with you now knows the full extent of your feelings for her. Fucking great. 
The last piece of your dignity is gone forever. Mindy speaks again, “She broke your heart when she said she only wanted to be friends. Trampled it even, and you were so upset that you decided to break hers too. Only literally.”
She faces everyone, clearly proud of herself, “There you have it folks, the perfect motive! Break my heart and I’ll break yours, but worse! A flawless romance-horror mashup.”
Everyone remains silent, just blinking at Mindy in astonishment. 
Your restrained sniffles break the silence. 
You rise, not even bothering to hide your tears or wipe them away. You’re broken, worse than you’ve ever been before. 
Before you can stomp away, you meet Mindy’s eyes, letting her see exactly how upset, angry, and ruined you are feeling.
Your tone is even and still as you spit in her direction, “Screw you, Mindy.”
With that, you walk away, uncaring if it makes you look any more suspicious. 
Watching as you move further and further away, Mindy finally decides to talk once more.
“I went too far, didn’t I?” She knew she always had a flair for the dramatics and it wasn’t the first time someone had been offended during one of her killer call-outs. 
Sam had been the last victim to be scorned by Mindy’s words, “Yeah, yeah I think it’s pretty obvious you went too far Mindy.”
Ever the protective big sister, she glances over at Tara to see how the younger girl has taken the news.
Tara is sat as straight as an arrow, eyes wide and blinking slowly. She looks utterly gobsmacked and as much as a little part of Sam wants to giggle like a child at her sister’s expression, the older and more mature version of her wins over.
“T, you okay?” Her voice is soft like a blanket, a tone she reserves just for Tara.
Tara comes back to life at Sam’s question. She shakes her head heatedly, “No, I’m not okay. Mindy, what the fuck?”
Mindy bristles slightly at Tara’s anger, no one likes being on the receiving end of her chihuahua-like biting remarks.
“Tara I-”
“Mindy, why the hell would you tell everyone that? She told you all of that and you just threw it right in her face?”
Mindy’s silence spurs Tara on.
“It’s one thing to accuse her of being Ghostface but to say all that? Really?”
Tara scoffs and pushes herself out of her seat. She starts striding to catch up with you, to say what exactly, she isn’t quite sure yet, but she’ll figure it out on the way.
To her dismay, a familiar hand catches her wrist and twists her around. 
It’s Sam, because who else would chase after an agitated Tara Carpenter?
“Tara, you can’t go after her.”
“She’s upset Sam, and it’s not safe for her to be alone and upset with a killer on the loose.”
Sam frowns, lips almost forming a pout, but nods in agreement. “I know Tara. She’s really upset. But it’s not safe for you to be alone with someone who could very well be the killer.”
Though the shorter girl is still unsure of whether or not you could actually be the one behind the mask, it's the last thing she's thinking of in this moment. A snarl forms on her face, “So you agree with Mindy.”
The older Carpenter is quick to defend herself, “I’m not saying I agree with Mindy, I just don’t think that you and I should split up. Can we keep staying together Tara, please? I can’t let you get hurt again.”
Tara deflates like a balloon, the angry miniature dog that lives in her finally gone. She nods in resignation and lets Sam lead her back to the group.
Meanwhile, you finally make it back to your dorm. You pluck Kirby’s business card out of your pocket and carefully examine it. The only information given is a phone number and her name. 
You debate calling her for a moment, maybe you’d be able to find some comfort in the agent. She was the only one who didn’t think you were Ghostface, after all. 
You decide against it, choosing to instead stew in your overwhelming emotions. You’d finally been granted time to process the onslaught of events, a brief calm in the inevitable storm.
Just as it was weeks before, your bed remains your safe space. You move to plug your phone into your charger, but stop short upon seeing a message.
Tara: hey, we’re making dinner at the apt and having evryone stay over tn.
Tara: u should come
The invitation leaves you frozen for a minute. Why would she want you to stay over with everyone else? Was this some sick move for her to corner you and reject you once and for all?
You aren’t sure what to respond with, so you leave her text unanswered. You can’t think rationally right now, so you plug your phone in, lay your head on your pillow, and succumb to the swirl of your emotions.
You lay there, staring up at your ceiling and sobbing, for what must be a few hours. Your friends think you’re a killer, and Tara knows the full extent of your love for her.
Your phone, ever the annoyance, interrupts your breakdown with the alert of an incoming call.
Groaning, you roll over and pick it up without looking.
“Hello?,” your hoarse voice croaks out.
“Why hello, Y/N. About time we talked, don’t you think?” 
The voice is teasing, like it’s somehow toying with you.
A chill shoots up your spine, and you sit up against your headboard. You sort of recognize the voice, but you can’t place how you know it.
“Who’s this?”
A laugh rings out and it somehow freaks you out even more.
“Since I like you, I’ll give you a hint. What’s your favorite scary movie?”
You drop your phone onto your lap and scramble away from it, as if it was purely responsible for how terrified you feel. 
Shit, shit, shit.
Back when you were avoiding everyone, Mindy had insisted for you to watch Stab 1 with her, since you’d never seen it before. You tried to refuse, but she shut you up with just one look. Rolling your eyes, you allowed her to put the movie on.
Though she was providing commentary throughout the entire opening, you’d heard the voice that had spoken with Casey Becker on the phone. 
You heard Casey’s killer ask her the same question you’d just been asked.
Fuck.
It was him, somehow, someway, he’d gotten your number and was calling you.
You were on the phone with none other than Ghostface.
Shit.
The person on the line chuckles, their altered voice muffled because of the way the phone is being pressed into your comforter, “Now I’ve got your attention.”
With trembling hands, you pick your phone up. “What do you want with me?”
“To thank you. Y’know because of you, I get a little more wiggle room. More time to be off on my own, carving up another person or two, or planning out exactly how I’m going to kill Tara.”
“Leave her alone!”
“Oooh feisty, but not a chance. I think I’ll burn her alive and shoot her in the head, just like she did to Amber.”
“Amber was a psycho and so are you!”
“Maybe, but you’re the one who everyone thinks is psycho.”
Clenching your fists, you remain silent.
Ghostface continues, “I think I’ve decided I want to play a little game. A new game I made just for you.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, full of pure fear. “I’m not playing any games.”
“Too bad. It’s a guessing game, it’s simple really. You guess if I’m in your bathroom waiting to spill your guts all over the place, or if I’m under Tara’s bed, ready to slice through her skin at any second.”
Your blood runs cold as you turn towards the tiny bathroom connected to your dorm room. The door is shut, and an eerie silence fills the room. Ghostface could be in there right now, and you’d be dead in seconds. Worse, he could be biding his time for the perfect time to strike an unsuspecting Tara.
“Tick tock,” the killer sings.
You steel yourself and cautiously position yourself upright, ready to bolt towards your door.
“You’re in my bathroom, come out and get me you fucker.”
The bathroom door stays shut, and you’re left poised in a tense position, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I’m afraid you’re wrong.” Oh god.
“Don’t hurt her!”
“I have to. We have unfinished business.” The words are spat out, clearly in raw anger.
The teasing tone plays through the voice modulator once more, “Thanks for being apart from everyone again, it really helps that you’re always able to take the fall for me.”
Ghostface ends the call. You clamber out of bed, toss on the nearest pair of shoes, and sprint out of the door, though not before grabbing the 3.5 x 2 inch card off of your dresser. 
While racing like a madman to the Carpenter’s apartment, you dial Kirby’s number.
After one ring, she picks up. “Agent Reed.”
“Kirby!” You’re panting as you hurry along.
“Y/N?”
“Yes! Kirby you have to get to Tara and Sam’s now! Ghostface is there.”
You can faintly make out her rustling around, likely collecting her jacket and gun.
“I’m on my way. What happened, how do you know?”
“He called me, Kirby. He’s setting me up!”
“Shit, okay get there as soon as you can.”
“I’m trying!”
This can’t happen to you, not again. Your stupid emotions about everyone thinking you were guilty fucked things up even more. If they didn’t hate you and suspect you before, your absence now definitely cements your fate.
Your only hope is to make it there in time to help defend against Ghostface. 
But alas, luck isn’t on your side. When you arrive at the Carpenter’s apartment, you’re met with yellow caution tape and the flashing red and blue lights of both ambulances and police cars. 
Too little, too late. 
You aren’t even sure what to do, not knowing if it’s better for you to turn and walk away, or to feebly defend yourself like a broken record. You see a body bag being rolled by on a stretcher, and the sight of it makes everything that you’re feeling so much worse.
One of your friends is dead.
You aren’t angry at them for how they treated you anymore, how they turned their backs on you so quickly. You can’t be angry. Not when someone died at the hands of whoever was behind this. Not when you’re being so cruelly reminded that this isn’t a petty fight, or a game night squabble. 
One of your friends is dead. 
You’re sad, instead. So immensely sad. And scared, your limbs still shake from the residual fear leftover from the phone call. The killer was taunting you on the phone, so shouldn’t you have been the next one to go? Whoever died didn’t deserve to, not while you just got to freely exist.
But like Mindy had said, you’ve been brought into a franchise, and everyone has a role in a franchise. Your friend is now nothing more than a notch under the famed killer’s belt, a tally for the rankings of a video titled ‘which slasher villain has the highest kill count?’
And your role?
You’re the killer’s toy, their beat-up ragdoll held together by loosened strings that they’d stopped caring about years ago, but still blame for every mess they create.
You’re the scapegoat, the one to blame, traveling down a path of loneliness and carrying around the killer’s sins for all to judge you for. Just when your innocence is proven, you’ll die, a sacrifice the killer is all too happy to make.
You sigh heavily, the weight of your thoughts resting deeply on your shoulders. You can’t feel sorry for yourself though. Not when you’re still alive, still breathing.
You can’t walk away, because running from your problems has just made everything worse.
The cops are distracted, so you slide underneath the caution tape. You sluggishly drag your feet towards the ambulance, further into the throng.
Mindy’s sitting in the back of the vehicle, a blanket wrapped around her shivering form.
You approach her, moving as shakily as a baby deer.
She sees you out of the corner of her eye. You watch as hers widen exponentially, “Stay the fuck back.”
You halt. The fearful and disgusted look in her eyes at the sight of you swallows you whole. 
Tears cloud your vision, “Are you okay?”
She remains quiet, just staring at you, unblinking.
“Dumb question.” 
Mindy blinks again.
You don’t know what to say, and you don’t get a chance to. You’re being ripped away from Mindy, met with Sam’s blazing eyes.
You can just barely see Tara behind her, looking smaller than ever.
Sam grips your chin, forcing you to look up at her. 
“Where the fuck were you?” She barks.
The murderous glare she’s leveling you with has you shrinking into your skin. “I- I was in my room.”
“Liar!”
“Sam, please. You have to believe me, I’m not lying.” You’re crying now, because she’s still looking at you like an untamed beast waiting to rip your heart out.
Near blubbering, you continue, “He called me, Ghostface called me.” 
The reminder of how scared and alone you felt on the phone with Ghostface makes your cry even harder, and Sam softens slightly, albeit still glaring at you.
“What’d he say?”
“He thanked me for helping him look less suspicious. He said it gave him more time to plan his next kills.” It’s a conscious decision not to include that he’d specifically mentioned how he’d kill Tara. Sam would rip your head off right on the spot.
She stares at you, trying to decipher if you’re telling the truth.
You heave in a breath, preparing yourself to finish your recount, “He made me play a guessing game. He told me to guess whether he was waiting to kill me, or Tara.”
Sam is scarily still. In the distance, you can see Chad harshly slamming Ethan into a van.
If Sam, Tara, Mindy, Chad, and Ethan are here, then that leaves…
Quinn. And Anika. God.
If you weren’t about to be strangled by Sam, you’d likely curl into a ball and sob at the knowledge that the two girls you’d seen earlier today are gone. 
You’d beg and plead with Sam if it meant she’d believe you. “I ran here as soon as I realized he was gonna hurt her. You have to believe me.”
You stare up at her with shiny eyes, praying she accepts your story.
Without warning, you’re released from the death grip that she had on you. Sam backs away from you without saying a word, slinking back towards Tara.
You meet the younger Carpenter’s gaze for one brief second, before you tear your eyes away. You couldn’t afford to decipher how she currently felt towards you. It hurt enough to be painted as the killer, you didn’t need her rejection of your love for her to pile up on top of your already too intense hurt. 
From your spot alone, in the middle of the group, you can hear Mindy telling an apologetic Ethan to get away from her. She tells him how the two of you are at the top of her list, and that she didn’t need either of you near her ever again.
Though you aren’t part of the conversation, her words still bruise. You might’ve called her your best friend once, probably still would, but she’d forever condemn your name.
You wallow in your sorrow while Gale shows up, sharing a regretful exchange with the two sisters. Kirby comes soon after, also checking up on the Carpenters.
Gale announces to everyone that she’s found what’s likely the killer’s hideout, and everyone silently follows along while she leads the way.
You walk a ways behind the group, arms wrapped around your own waist both defensively and protectively. A firm body knocks their shoulder against yours, breaking you out of your daze.
Kirby levels you with a worried look, “You good kid?”
“Don’t worry about me, ask the others.”
She clicks her tongue at your response, “Already did, now I wanna know how you’re doing.”
You reach a hand up and drag it through your hair, “Mindy hates me, probably Chad too by association. I can’t tell how Sam feels, if she thinks it’s me or not. And I can’t even  bring myself to look at Tara, let alone ask her if she thinks I’m out to murder her.”
Kirby shoots you a sympathetic look, “That’s a lot for one person to deal with.”
You shrug, “Yeah well, nothing I can do about that.”
The two of you finish the walk towards the abandoned theater in silence.
Before you enter, Kirby places a hand on your arm to stop you.
“We’re gonna catch who’s behind this eventually. Why don’t you stick with me for the time being?”
Your eyes light up, “I’d love that.”
And truthfully you would. Staying by Kirby’s side will not only be comforting, but will also ensure that you’re no longer left to accidentally fall into a situation that makes you look guilty. For the first time since all of this started, you feel seen, like you finally have a friend that’s on your side.
She smiles at you and the two of you enter the theater. You soon realize that it’s less of a theater, and more of a shrine dedicated to the Ghostfaces of the past.
Everyone fans out to inspect the items. You’re stuck to Kirby’s side like glue, inching your way towards a display case.
She carefully places her hands atop the case, scanning her eyes across the items.
Pointing out a few items, she speaks out to no one in particular. “Charlie stabbed me with that knife, and that’s the same flannel Jill was wearing.”
You hum sadly, what she went through must have been so horrible. 
The rest of the visit to the shrine is lonely for you. Kirby leaves to bond with Mindy, then to check on Tara. You’re left to stand in a corner, trying to blend in with the shadows.
When Kirby returns, the group clusters together, forming a plan.
As you sit by Kirby’s side in the van, the plan quickly goes to shit. The killer’s call is traced back to Gale’s apartment, leaving the Carpenter sisters to race to her rescue.
You and Kirby head back to the precinct for a while, where she combs through her files once more. She gets a call about a new plan, and the two of you hop back into her car, headed back towards the abandoned theater.
Sam, Tara, and Chad stand outside. 
Chad points to you, where you’re standing by Kirby’s side. “Is it safe for her to come in with us?”
You swallow at his retort.
Kirby calmly comes to your defense, “Safer than leaving her alone, yes. Where’s Mindy?”
Sam explains that Mindy got separated and had to take a different train with Ethan.
Kirby quirks an eyebrow, “Okay, well it’s better if we wait inside.”
The others go their separate ways, leaving you and Kirby to stand by the door. She double checks the ammunition in her gun, and makes sure her bulletproof vest is intact. 
A few minutes pass where you’re left to sit and wait. With Kirby distracted with her gun and you distracted with your thoughts, neither of you notice the figure creeping up behind her.
Kirby falls to the ground, groaning before she falls unconscious. Before you can think of screaming, you’re hit hard in the back of the head.
You land next to Kirby on the ground, head spinning as your world fades to black.
You’re groggy as you wake, but you quickly notice that Kirby is nowhere to be found. You stand and take a minute to regain your bearings.
Once you’ve calmed down, you start to make out the faint sounds of voices in the main room. You slowly approach, stopping dead in your tracks once you see what’s going on.
Sam and Tara are clutching bricks, trying to defend themselves from Quinn and Ethan, who are wearing the ghostface robes and taunting the sisters with knives. 
Detective Bailey stands in front of them, waving around a gun as he monologues.
To your dismay, Quinn notices you.
“Well, if it isn’t our favorite accomplice.”
Bailey turns to face you, grinning. 
“Come on over, join us!”
The rest of the group can’t see from where his back is turned, but his gun is aimed at you and his eyes are threatening. You comply, terrified as you inch forward.
When you’re within reach, Bailey reaches out and wraps an arm tightly around your shoulders, the force of his arm nearly knocking the wind out of you.
He turns to taunt the two sisters, “We couldn’t have done it without her. Your little girlfriend was a great help, Tara.”
Sam and Tara look shocked and then betrayal fills their eyes.
You’re confused, caught up in fear and panic.
Sam’s scoffs, “You needed four people just to take me out? That’s pathetic.”
Only now do you realize what’s going on. Bailey’s making it seem like you’ve been helping them all along, still not allowing you to be innocent.
Your eyes are wide and begging for the umpteenth time, “Wait, I didn’t help them!”
Ethan rolls his eyes, a tiny hidden smirk on his face, “Drop the act! This is the fun part Y/N, remember? Like we talked about.”
You try to wiggle out of Bailey’s grip, but he’s unwavering.
Your struggling causes you to meet Tara’s eyes. She looks devastated, like her worst thoughts were coming to life. 
“Let me go! I didn’t help them, Tara please! Please it wasn’t me! They’re lying!”
Your cheeks are wet with your tears. 
Bailey looks between you and Tara for a second before a smirk slowly spreads across his face.
“Well Tara, it looks like it’s up to you.” He tucks his gun into his waistband and pulls out a knife. 
He gestures to you with the knife, “Girlfriend, or killer?”
The knife presses against your abdomen, ready to strike. 
Time pauses for a second, while your eyes are locked on Tara’s. You’re pleading, the most desperate you’ve been up to this point. Your life is quite literally on the line, and if Tara chooses not to trust you, you’re dead. 
Her mouth is agape, opening and closing, as she glances to Sam for help. Sam shakes her head and mouths a trust no one to her sister.
Tara remains conflicted.
Bailey growls, “Girlfriend or killer, Tara. Choose one.”
Tara’s gaze hardens, but you can still see how her eyes are flitting around worriedly. 
She’s biting her lip hard.
You decide to try to sway her one more time, this is the girl you love, who knows how much you love her, though not by your choice. You don’t know if she returns your feelings, but this isn’t the time to be fearful of rejection. At least if she still doesn’t believe your innocence, you’ll die knowing you did everything you could to save yourself.
You don’t sound desperate anymore, just broken. “Tara, I- I love you. And I wouldn’t do this to you, or Sam, or any of our friends. You know me better than anyone else, so you should know I’m telling the truth. I have been all along.”
The room is still and silent. 
Tara looks into your eyes, and whatever it is she sees, it makes her finally open her mouth to respond. She’s looking right at you as she speaks, “I believe you.”
It’s then that the room erupts into chaos.
You’re blinded with pain as Bailey’s knife enters your insides and twists around.
“You got it right Tara, but you’re too late.”
The knife is pulled out and thrusted back in. A trail of blood leaks out of your mouth.
Quinn and Ethan laugh. Tara’s screams ring loudly throughout the shrine, but she is held from running towards you by Sam. 
You’ve lost track of how many times the knife has entered your body. The pain is so intense that you can’t even feel it anymore.
Your vision is spotty, and you slide limply out of Bailey’s grip to crash unceremoniously to the ground.
You’re left to wonder why no one’s ever said how sickening it is to feel your own life draining from your body. Maybe because they didn’t live to retell the pain?
As your eyes drift shut, you think back to the first night you’d met Tara. How you found her to be so alluring, so painstakingly beautiful. You remember the offhand internal comment you made after hours of blushing under her relentless teasing, when you’d said to yourself that this girl would someday be the death of you.
You’d laugh at the irony if you had enough energy to do so.
With the hopes of being reincarnated into a simpler life, you finally stop fighting death’s cold grasp and allow yourself to fade away.
And fade away you do.
Until the paramedics are pumping you full of drugs, their arms flying around you with practiced precision. They’re stitching, and bandaging, and doing everything they can to save your life.
Somehow, someway, they do it. They save you.
A week later, your eyes open for the first time. 
The room is empty, your only company being a vase full of wilted flowers. 
You’re covered by a thin blue blanket from the waist down. You’d reach down and assess the damage, but your arms don’t want to cooperate, still too weak to comply with your brain’s request.
Besides, you’re alive, shouldn’t that be all that matters?
It’s then that you hear two voices out in the hallway, growing louder as they likely approach your room.
The door opens, and you suck in a breath. It’s Sam and Tara, the latter of the two clutching a fresh bouquet of flowers in her uninjured arm.
They haven’t noticed you’re awake yet, still continuing their previous conversation.
“Hi.” You mentally kick yourself for always having the most awkward greetings.
They gasp and turn to face you.
“You’re awake!” Tara flies towards you and carefully embraces you, mindful of your barely healed injuries. You make a small noise in response, though eventually slowly lift your arms to return the hug.
Sam leaves to go inform the nurse of your condition.
The small girl pulls away to set the flowers down, before moving to gingerly sit on the side of the bed.
She lifts a hand to cup your face, silently stroking your cheek with her thumb.
“I owe you a huge apology,” she begins. 
You shake your head, “We have plenty of time to talk about that, let’s just exist for now, yeah?”
She nods, big brown eyes scanning your face nervously. You watch curiously, as she seemingly works up some confidence.
“Is it true, what Mindy said?”
You pale, and meekly nod your head, knowing she’s referring to when Mindy exposed your love for her.
She’s launching herself towards you again, stopping with her lips mere millimeters away from your lips, a silent question of permission lurking in her eyes.
You glance down at her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they were the first time you’d kissed her.
She takes that as your answer, and closes the gap. You’re drowning again, in everything that is Tara Carpenter, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.
There’d be time to talk later, to work through your issues of trust with her and everyone else, but for now? 
You were perfectly content with the blissful feeling of being consumed by Tara, of her expressing everything left unsaid with just her lips.
You’re scarred and hurt, beaten and bruised, but none of it matters.
You’re kissing Tara, and she’s enough. More than that, she’s all you’ll ever need.
Bonus note: Everyone thank @cartierdreamx for the happy ending, as much as I love it, r's death would've really fueled the evil angst rat that lives inside of me. Send me your thoughts, I'm so excited to hear what you all think after reading!
Taglist: @thenextdawn @dreifhraniquo29 @fanboy7794 @thelonewriter247 @simp4natasha @cartierdreamx @btay3115 @friedryes @bananasplits-world @alexkolax @ordelixx @adaydreamaway08 @youralphawolf72
As always, so sorry if I forgot to add anyone to the list that asked to be added! I tried my best to add everyone!! <3
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tulipsforyourlips · 12 days
Text
✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (1)
|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||
SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.
PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader
WC: 800
WARNINGS: none I can think of
PART 1 ✧˖°.
"Promise me.”
"Hope I,-"
"Promise Dream."
"I promise." 
The Dream Lord stiffened in his seat as he banished away his thoughts to the darkest chambers of his mind, afraid they would return otherwise. But they still did, every time. The colours swirling in the glass pane that framed his throne cast vibrant hues of light on his poised face, accentuating his features that were sharp enough to cut skin. Promise Dream the words came back as a whisper, evoking a chill on his neck that travelled through his spine. He shut his eyes willing his mind to quiet, trying to-
"My lord." Lucienne's welcoming voice pulled him to the present. 
"You have a visitor," she announced. 
Morpheus raised an eyebrow imperceptibly at his failure to come up with someone who might visit his realm, especially when he was not expecting anyone. 
"Little brother,”
The voice was accompanied by a woman with black curls and a skin that glowed before the light from the glass pane even touched her. 
"Death," Morpheus stated, bewilderment tucked somewhere in his tone. After all, he hadn't expected to meet her again so soon. 
"How are you?" She asked.
"I am truly well sister, what brings you here?"
Death knew how much truth his ‘truly well’ held but let it pass for the moment. "Lucienne would you please excuse us for a minute?" 
"Ofcourse my lady.” She dipped her head and pursued the command, closing the colossal doors behind her. 
"Something...something has happened.” Death wasted no time in speaking.  
This time Dream did not try to hide the raise in his eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" His calm voice floated through the room. 
"Dream,”
Before she could follow the sentence, turmoil had already begun growing within him, Death was using his name only to soften the blow. 
"It's here."
“Bloody hell, that was one hell of a case!” Charles exclaimed as he shut the door behind you three. 
“Charles you know Edwin suffers from serious ptsd please stop using hell so much around him. It’s not like the British lack in creative curses,” you reprimanded him as you shrugged your jacket off, draping it over the couch. 
“Haha you’re hilarious,” Edwin stated monotonically while Charles started chanting ‘hell’ in the background just to spite the both of you. 
“Thanks hon,” you winked. “And Charles shut that hole up or if the ghost didn’t get you I surely will.”
“Hell hell hell hell hell- ow what was that for?” 
You grinned in delight as your boot contacted with his abdomen, “for being annoying.” 
Another “ow” escaped Charles as he sent glaring looks at you. “And that?” 
“For being you,” you beamed, devoid of both your boots now.
Your smile was quickly wiped off your face as Charles began his incantation right in your face. 
“Get away from me!” You groaned flailing your hands to push his bloodied face away. 
“Okay now I don’t know about you both but I for one am seriously tired after the events that have transpired during the day. So if you will excuse me and please take whatever this is,” Edwin gestured at the both of you with a foul expression, “somewhere else because I need to rest.” 
“Hell hell hell,” Charles resumed being annoying as if nothing had happened. 
“I swear if even a droplet of that ghost’s blood drops on my t-shirt I will fucking kill you. Again.” 
“Hell hell- you love me too much for that-hell hell-”
“Yeah? Go on and find out- NO!” You let out a scream that would have for sure woken up your neighbours if you had any, being a secretive ghost agency and what not. 
“You bitch! That was my favourite t-shirt!” You looked down at the once white fabric now bearing an impression of Charles right profile with blood.
“I know.” He had the audacity to smirk at that. 
You went for his throat, fully determined to give truth to your previous threat when Edwin pulled you from him. 
"Enough! Both of you!” 
Charles and you stared at each other, your ears still hot with fury.
“Charles go wash up that face please! And Hazel you need sleep, unlike us so go retire to your bedroom.” 
“Like you can just order us around,” you rolled your eyes. 
But Edwin’s one look in your way got you scrambling for your jacket. 
“Yes boss.” Charles made his way to the bathroom. 
“Goodnight Edwin, fuck you Charles.” And you departed with your wishes.
You sighed as you switched on the lights in your room, and plopped down on the single bed. Not even mustering up the courage to change into your night clothes, you let sleep engulf you and entered the world of dreaming. 
A/N: hello peeps this story is set post the events of the sandman show and i haven’t read the comics so you will have to bear with the inconsistencies and the like. if i mess up real bad pls do let me know<3
SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.
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