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starcrossedkaiju · 3 years

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Kingslayer AU: Chapter Eight

I don’t know what to say other than I like this one. Rendog enjoyers come get your free angst!

Scott filled the pages of his sketchbook gradually at first. He sat at his window and drew what he saw, focusing on putting shapes on the paper. Many times he was unhappy with the finished product, almost ripping out and throwing away his limited space.

He had to learn to be okay with it. The next time it would be a bit better, and a bit better, until the tree he’d been slaving over didn’t look half bad.

Soon his interests turned to drawing his friends. Their faces would pop up on his pages, drowned in eraser smudges at first. Then it became easy. Like second nature, he could memorize Grian’s knowing grin, Jimmy’s downturned eyes, Martyn’s slightly crooked nose.

He drew the way he saw Ren’s piercing yellow eyes that night, the way they were shadowed by his brow.

It felt better. To have a place where his memories could stay exactly the way he saw them. Scott even pinned some up on the wall of his room.

Soon his supply of paper started dwindling, Martyn told him if he needed more drawing paper to come back and ask him for some. So he did, after Jimmy went to bed and the world was quiet under the snow.

Scott made a trip to the Renchanting base, entering through the tunnel hidden under the mountain. It took him right to the storage area. Which was dark and deserted. Only a clock ticked on the wall, everyone else must have been in the sleeping quarters or back at their bases to fend off the Phantoms.

He took a torch from the “stuff chest” and started making rounds, looking at each storage container. Food, Armor, ores, wood, stone, and redstone. Until there was a wall of chests with people’s names on them.

Everyone in the Red Army had a chest, from left to right there was Ren, Martyn, Etho, Skiz, Impulse, Tango, Joel, and then Scott.

The last chest on the right side, Scott’s name was carved on top. It hadn’t been there before. He placed his hand on the lock, wondering if he should even bother opening it. Someone had cared enough to dedicate a space for him to put things. Under the roof of Dogwarts no less.

His torch flickered and Scott decided he’d spent too long lurking around, so he flipped the lock up and quietly opened the chest. Slowly so it wouldn’t creek.

Inside there was a single stack of drawing paper. Hand-sewn like the one Martyn had given him.

Scott placed the torch down and retrieved the paper. He knew it must have been Martyn. A smile found its way onto his face, and he let it stay there. This time, when nobody was looking.

Blowing out the torch and closing the chest, Scott gathered the sketchbook and decided to just leave through the front. It was almost midnight anyways.

Up the stairs and to the double doors of the enchanting room. The book on the table rose from its position and opened towards him as he walked past. Scott still had his hand on the doorknob when he opened it and stepped out into the frigid night.

Of course he didn’t expect to see anything, so when he did see something he froze in place.

In the spot that Martyn would typically occupy, on the very top of the walls sat Ren. His grey cape was bundled around himself to keep out the cold and his pointed ears were pressed low on his head. He was facing away from Scott.

Huddled on the perch, Ren’s shoulders were shaking. Silently, he cried.

Scott stood in the doorway motionless. He couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. Ren wasn’t one to cry. He was calculating and smart, rarely loosing his temper to even the worst of setbacks. A humorous man in charge of an Army of vagabonds, he never cried. He never expressed so much as a single weakness, he couldn’t afford that.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise, not really, that the Red King would save his sorrow for when nobody should be looking. Under the loneliest arm of the Milky Way, coldly gazing down on him. The weight of every star in the sky on his shoulders.

It made him look small.

Scott backed away from the door and ran back to the tunnel he came from, the kind of running you do when you are convinced your worst nightmare is snapping at your heels; and maybe for Scott it was.

He sprinted home without looking back. Trying to shove the image of Ren out the back of his mind.

That night he crept quietly back into bed, doing his best not to disturb Jimmy. Who stirred momentarily before simply turning over.

Scott stared at the arm of the Milky Way through the window until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Days pressed by, Scott slithered too and from the walls of Dogwarts under the noses of his allies and between Spy Ring meetings. The first page of his new sketchbook lay empty, because whenever his pencil hovered above that damn page all he could see was a man huddled up under a galaxy of stars that would never return his wishes.

So when he was called out on night watch to the Renchanting base, Scott snuck out with his empty sketchbook held close to his chest. He arrived to a sleeping base, aware that his shift would be over in an hour and he would get to go home when the next guard showed up.

He yawned and stared out the window, at the stars above the wall. A pencil came to his hand and he started drawing what he saw. The shape of the wall against the glowing sky. He drew it, but it wasn’t right. The image in his mind came back to the front.

A weeping man holding a million stars on his shaking shoulders, the end of his frayed cape flaring out when the breeze kicked up. Tiny compared to the infinite sky. Scott’s fingers and palm turned black with graphite as he crafted the cosmos onto that paper.

His scribbling and smudging consumed all his thoughts as he focused on making the scene perfect, the pencil dulled and threatened to snap under the pressure.

“Major,” a stern voice came from right behind him.

Scott seized up in his chair, a feeling of terror so pure exploded in his chest that his vision left him for a few seconds. He gasped and turned around with his jaw on the floor.

Behind him was Ren. Clad in his winter jacket, a hand on the back of Scott’s chair. He stared directly into the other’s eyes from behind the dark lenses of his aviators. All the color had gone from his face.

Hoping the Red King hadn’t seen what he was drawing, Scott moved his hand to close the book.

It was too late. Ren had been watching him draw for long enough to know.

“You saw me?” Ren asked, but it was phrased more like a fact. It was.

Scott’s hesitation was enough of an answer. He stared up into Ren’s glasses, reminded of a familiar time. This time was different though, and this time Scott wished he could see behind the lenses.

He nodded and tore his eyes away, it felt intrusive to be staring.

“Ren,” Scott said to the floor, but was dismissed.

“No. Just go home. Now,” the other man ordered with a wavering voice.

Scott didn’t nod, he didn’t look at Ren. He gathered the sketchbook and slammed it shut within five seconds.

He didn’t say goodbye as he fled the walls. Scott ran from Ren, and this time he felt bad about it.

Scott didn’t return to Dogwarts for a week after that. Nobody called him to the night shift, nobody asked him to run any supplies. Maybe he was grateful for that, in the sense that he wouldn’t have to look Ren in the eyes again.

Until one night he couldn’t sleep. The clouds cast a dark blanket over the sky. Scott huffed and crawled out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He pulled his boots on and took his coat off the hanger.

A walk is what he told himself he was going on, but really he knew where he was going. He didn’t know why, but for some reason Scott had a feeling he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep.

This time instead of entering Dogwarts through the underground he rounded the front, cresting the hill right in front of Big B’s house. Scott scanned the top of the wall and saw what he was looking for. He shoved his hands in his pockets and entered Dogwarts through the front door.

Scott climbed the ladder and balanced himself as he walked over to Ren, who was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the wall. His jacket was pulled tightly around him. Scott didn’t greet him when he sat down, Ren had seen him coming a mile away.

Ren didn’t look at him, he breathed in heavily, then sighed out a burst of vapor into the cold air.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Scott started the conversation this time.

“Wouldn’t matter if I could. I’m on night watch,” Ren said after a beat of silence.

Scott nodded, turning his head to the dark sky, “it’d be nicer with some stars, hm?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ren trailed off. He stared at his shoes.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ Scott made to get up and leave but Ren interrupted him.

“No, wait, you can stay,” Ren pulled on the sleeve of Scott’s elbow.

Scott nodded and pulled his knees closer to his chest. A pocket of clouds had moved, creating a window that let the moon gaze upon the Earth.

“Do you stargaze a lot?” Ren asked, this time he looked at Scott.

He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

“I try,” Scott replied, “there’s this huge book I found uh, In a village library a while ago. It has everything you can possibly see from down here in it,” he mused.

“Have you ever read one?” Scott asked.

“Uh, an astronomy book?” Ren’s eyes flicked to the left in thought, “I mean I’ve seen them. I haven’t read them. You like astronomy?” he asked.

Scott nodded, then pointed north, into the cloud cover, “you can’t see it now, but Ursa Major would be right over there,” he said.

Ren looked over like he was trying to imagine it, “you like Ursa Major?”

“Easiest to remember,” Scott said plainly.

“I’ll bet. S’ like a namesake,” Ren rested his chin on his palm, “I wish I had a constellation with my name,” his ear twitched on his head.

Scott’s metaphorical ears perked up, “Oh well, there’s one kind of like that,” he said. Ren’s actual ears perked up.

“It’s called Canis Major. It means Great Dog, or Big Dog,” Scott pointed south, “it will always be easy to see on a clear day. One of its stars is called Sirius,” he explained.

Ren nodded, “I’m familiar. Brightest in the sky, right?”

“Yeah. That’s right,” Scott replied.

“Canis Major huh?” Ren repeated. Scott nodded.

“Canis Major, and,” he looked over at Scott, “Scott Major,” Ren nudged the other on the shoulder.

“Right,” Scott said, and suddenly the sky didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Not when you have a friend to share it with.

#listen. hear me out...#the constellation thing was clever okay!!#also Canis Major rises in the winter. I call that poetic #there’s nothing too deep about Scott being Ursa Major other than his name and him being star-born #kingslayer au #3rdlife #3rd life smp #3rdlife smp #rendog #scott smajor #mcyt #mcytblr #cas types

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a-detraque-barista · 5 years

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Our Haunted House

Title: Our Haunted House

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: yandere, horror, smut

Warnings: cursing, yandere behaviors, mention of blood, tentacle fucking, buckets of cum, biting, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex

Summary: On your first trip back to the Halloween Fest you ran into a quiet but attractive man. Once you get separated from your friends he can’t keep himself from touching you.

A/N: HAPPY SPOOKS DAY EVERYONE!!!! A perfect rainy day (not for trick or treaters) for Halloween and to stay home and have a Halloween Movie Marathon while eating candy and other junk food. Anyway, this is my very first smut and I hope you all like it. I also entered this in @bang-tan-bitches writing challenge, Monster Mash. So go check out all the other amazing stories posted in the challenge and show them some love and now on with tentacley Jimin 💜 💜 💜

The music box played alone on the stage. It reminded you of carnival music but there was a dark undertone to it. You were only twelve and your father decided to bring you to the annual Halloween Fest. You never got scared when someone jumped out in front of you. For some reason, you have never felt fear. Nothing ever frightened you like other people.

Your mother had voiced her concerns on more than one occasion. Calling you a freak, a monster, even going as far as a demon. She doesn’t speak to you anymore. Ignoring your existence and spending her time drinking wine and watching trash television.

The stage you sat a few rows away from had gone completely dark before a clown was in the spotlight. His makeup was done terribly. His lips were painted black which was peeling and the white paint on his face was cracking. As he smiled widely you could clearly see black smudges on his yellow teeth.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!! I am your host for this evening! And tonight I welcome you to The Clowning. I did not come up with the name by the way,” he spat as he spoke with a fake speech impediment. “And now I present to you, Stabby the Prankster.”

Your father’s eyebrow raised, just as many other parents at the name. Then a clown wearing all red and black popped out from behind the curtain. A laugh similar to Woody the Woodpecker reached your ears. And just as his name entailed, he had knives in both hands. His makeup was just as terrible as the first. Instead, his eyes had red circles and his cheeks had red spots on top of the cracking white paint.

He jumped down from the stage and in front of the first row viewers. His bulging eyes looked from left to right before lunging straight ahead and swiftly slit the young boy’s throat.

Screaming followed as people began to rush towards the exit. Your father picked you up and began to run with you tightly in his arms. Pushing his way through, he got to just outside the door before stopping dead in his tracks. Everyone around the two of you gasped as they saw the dagger sticking out of his back.

Your father looked down at you and smiled weakly before dropping to his knees and before he could fall forward onto you, a family friend hoisted you onto her hip. She ran with you as you looked back to your now-dead father lying on the floor.

The clown that had thrown the knife had made his way to your dad’s body and locked gazes with you. His smile was gone and he was no longer slashing townspeople one by one. He seemed as if he was worried about something.

The clown that had claimed to be the host grabbed Stabby by the neck and threw him back into the auditorium before disappearing behind the doors himself.

“It’s going to be okay sweetie. They can’t hurt you. There’s nothing you have to worry about,” the woman carrying you said softly as you began to cry. Your father was the only one that cared about you. And you were old enough to know that.

It’s been around a decade since then. You moved out of your mother’s house into your own. You finally had your own space. Your mother didn’t talk to you much after what happened. Only a few words every couple of weeks.

As you grew older, nobody realized your dad was one of the victims. Which led you to make friends. Your best friends were Jennie and Mark, they even wanted to be your roommates. You may not live alone but you still consider this your own space, compared to your mom’s house.

You laid in your bed as you played on your phone. It was already four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep. Nothing worked. Listening to classical music, drinking some of Jennie’s chamomile tea, tossing and turning. Now you stared at your white ceiling thinking of other ways to fall asleep.

Halloween is coming up and you had to think of ways to decorate the house. No wonder why you can’t sleep, your mind always wanders off. Still, you think about all the decorations you have in storage in the attic and think of new ones you could buy.

As you zone out you see something in the corner of your eye. Quickly looking to the side, you see nothing but your closed closet door and look back up at the ceiling to see swirling patterns begin to slither across. They were navy blue mixed with graphite grey. They were like vines twisting and curling around each other. Your eyebrows furrowed as the vine-like tendrils became bigger like they were getting closer. You feel the smooth tip of the reaching blue vine graze your nose. You attempt to sink further into the bed but as you run out of space the tendril still follows and moves to the side to comfortingly caress the side of your face. It was gentle and you could feel your eyelids becoming heavier.

Trying to fight it, you struggle to keep your eyes open. Even attempting to hit it away with your hand but another tendril grabbed your wrist, with the utmost care. It laid your hand back down softly as if it didn’t want to cause you any pain, even a little.

Your eyes were closed by the time the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard say, “You have all the power over me.”

Mark jumping onto your bed while Jennie made an alarm go off on her phone was what woke you up. Mark began to shake you violently as he laughed, “It’s one in the afternoon, lazy ass. Get up.”

You weren’t able to say anything until he finished shaking you. Even then you didn’t say anything and just groaned. Mark and Jennie both started to jump on the bed and stopped abruptly to hear what you had to say.

“Fuck you,” you swiped your leg into theirs to make them fall. Jennie landed on her back on the bed and Mark landed on the floor.

“So mean,” Mark grumbled from the floor. You sat up and leaned on your elbow to give him a blank look when he popped his head up.

“So annoying.”

Mark laid back down on the floor to sulk while Jennie turned to you, “Wanna go to the Halloween Fest with us? I know you never go but it’ll be fun.”

You got up and walked to your bathroom connected to your room, closing the door behind you. You never told them about your father being one of the victims during what they called, Hallow’s Eve Massacre. You had always thought it was a dull name. Created by none other than the group of moms that have nothing better to do than to drink overcomplicated coffee that was too expensive for their small sizes and get into other people’s business like it’s their own.

Standing at the sink you thought about the pros and cons of going. Pros. Delicious seasonal foods, haunted houses, everything scary you love, and getting out of the house with your two best friends.

Cons. Paranoia, especially of clowns and stages, people you don’t like to even be within a ten-mile radius, and going outside.

You supposed the pros outweigh the cons. Who knows, it could be fun.

You regret your decision the moment you walked through the admission stands. Looking around you saw many clowns. Or were they your former classmates? It was hard to tell. None of these-

“Ow!” Landing on your ass you ended up dropping your coffee.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The man who bumped into you kneeled down to make sure you were okay. You felt like you've seen his face before but couldn't really pinpoint where you've seen him.

"Yeah-yeah. I'm fine," you felt him begin to pull you up by your arms to stand up directly in front of him. “Are you okay? I mean I ran into you-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good,” you stood there awkwardly and watched as his hand soothingly rubbed your forearms. It felt comforting. His hands were warm and it seeped through your jacket and into your skin.

“Jennie, I think we’re interrupting something,” Mark joked as he leaned into Jennie’s side like he was whispering to her but spoke in a normal, almost loud voice.

Your face gained a red hue as you stepped away from the man who tried to look into your very soul, “Sorry again. I’ll try to pay more attention.” You stared at the ground and began to quickly walk away from the man.

“Please don’t. I’d love to run into you again sometime,” he called out before turning the other way and continued his path to wherever he was going. You kept walking with Jennie and Mark until you arrived at the part of the fairgrounds where they had all the rides.

First, you rode the Twirling Tangerines, inside the large oranges there was a wheel you could all turn. Then, you rode the Spider, where you sat in a cart-like box that spun as the arms lifted you up and down.

You were on your way to the haunted house when you turned to Mark, “I think I just saw-” Noticing he’s not with you, you look around the crowd to try and spot him. “Jennie, where’d Mark go?”

She turned to you and looked around as well, “How the hell could we lose him?” She took out her phone from her pocket and clicked on his contact to call him. He didn’t answer.

“We’ll have to split up and look for him,” you shrugged as you headed toward back the way you came and Jennie veering left from the way you were going.

It took almost half an hour before you get a call from Jennie, telling you she found him. She failed to mention the man that Mark had crossed paths with on his adventure.

You met them at one of the tents where they had a rigged game for people to play as stuffed animals hung from the top. You may or may not have stopped at the apple cider stand on your way to the game tent.

“Woooooow. You didn’t get us any?” Mark was obviously hurt but you didn’t really care. “You shouldn’t have wandered off like you did cause then we’d both have apple cider right now,” you took a sip of your hot drink while looking at him.

Your eyes shift to the man who you had bumped into earlier. You began to cough up the warm beverage that was trying to intrude into your lungs from your sharp intake of breath. Coughing into your sleeve, you tried to breathe again before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Mark ran into me while I was heading toward the Baker’s Street and he was looking somewhere else,” his smile was so big it made his eyes turned into crescent moons. It almost made you want to smile. He walked closer to you before reaching out his hand to you, “My name’s Jimin. What’s yours?”

You stood there wide-eyed and shocked before snapping out of it and taking his hand. Maybe a bit too eagerly, “Y/n.” You took your hand back and turned to Mark and Jennie, “Ready for the haunted house?”

Mark groaned and Jennie gave an unconvincing “yeah” as she kind of curled into herself. You lead the way and never turned to look if Jimin had ended up following you or went ventured off somewhere else.

You didn’t really know what to do with guys. Keeping to yourself you never really talked to people. Especially guys so it was kind of new and weird for you to speak with such an attractive guy that wasn’t a close friend like Mark.

Walking up to the house you showed the wristband you got at the admissions booth to allow you to go in.

"I'm sorry sir. If you don't have a wristband then I can't let you in," the woman at the entrance practically spat the person she was talking to.

You turned around to see her speaking to Jimin and felt kind of annoyed by how she spoke to him. She didn’t really have any reason to be so rude, that you knew of. “He did have one, I saw it on his wrist a few minutes ago,” you don't know why you were vouching for this guy. You just felt like it, you guessed.

The lady reluctantly nodded him through with a sneer. He smiled politely towards her before joining your group into the dark foyer.

As a dressed up ghoul jumped out in front of you and Jimin, you did nothing but stare blankly at the man while Mark yelped and Jennie gasped. How Jimin ended up next to you, you didn't know.

Jimin noticed how the jump scare didn't frighten you. He found it intriguing, in fact. You didn’t even bat an eyelid.

“Where’s Mark?” Jimin’s head snapped to you as you looked around for your not-so-bright friend once again. Jimin began to look around with you.

“You must be fucking kidding me,” Jennie sighed before saying, “I’ll go look for him so he doesn’t make any weird friends in here.”

Leaving you and Jimin alone, you kept walking through the hallways and up the staircase. Many people attempted to scare you but none of them succeeded. And Jimin tried not to laugh at your reaction to their attempts. It’s not that he was making fun of you. He was just amused how much effort the actors put into being frightening and all they get is your eyebrow raised at most.

You felt Jimin take your hand gently and slowly tighten his grip into a comfortable hold, “I’m scared.”

Immediately, you could tell he wasn’t scared at all. He just wanted a reason to hold your hand like he was smooth. But you didn’t really have the heart to take your hand away. And you didn’t really want to. You felt him come closer to you bit by bit until your shoulders were rubbing against each other.

“You wouldn’t mind if I held you would you?” Jimin broke the eerie silence that sat between you two.

“Why do you want to?” you found the question odd but weren’t completely opposed to it. You weren’t a hoe but he just made you feel comfortable.

“Cause I want to get closer to you.”

“But you’re already close to me,” you smiled. “I suppose.”

He reciprocated your smile and let go of your hand to wrap around your shoulders. He tugged you closer so you were tucked into his side. The warmth from his body kept you from shivering because of the freezing temperatures inside the building.

Seeing a door crack open not far down the hallway, you expected someone to jump out of the room. Getting close enough to look into the bedroom, no one jumped out. Jimin noticed your interest in the room and peeked inside with you. The only thing in the room was a wardrobe, a desk, a king-sized bed, and a mirror hanging in front of the desk. All were caked with dust.

“Must be an extra room they decided not to use,” you concluded before you took a glance at Jimin, only to meet his eyes. You quickly looked away and awkwardly scanned the room.

All you heard were his footsteps before feeling his grip your arm to turn you towards him, “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your cheeks felt like the sun had been shining on them for hours. And as he demanded, you kept your eyes on him. The thumb on the hand that rested on the side of your face came up to slightly pull down your bottom lip.

“You wouldn’t mind, right?” he said quietly then bit his lip while looking at yours.

Shaking your head gently, Jimin kissed you without a second thought. It was rough and hungry. He didn’t hold back for a second. Licking your lips, practically begging for access. You parted your lips slightly and that’s all he needed to slip his tongue into your mouth. No inch was left untouched. He started to walk forward making you walk back until the back of your knees hit the bed.

After falling back on the bed, Jimin practically ripped off his thick black hoodie, showing the loose white shirt beneath. It was thin and the neckline hung well below his collarbones. The hoodie landed somewhere by the door as he got down on the floor on his knees. He gently took hold of the waistband on your pants before pulling them down slowly. As they pooled around your ankles, he came back up to start peppering kisses along your inner thighs.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I would take my time with you but I can’t wait anymore,” his voice was thick with arousal as he tore off your shoes, socks, and pants. “I need to have you.”

Jimin ripped your panties from your waist and fell to the floor in shreds, “I’ll get you new ones.”

Trailing more kisses down your thighs he got closer and closer to your core. His fingers began to skim over your folds and dip between them to land right on your clit. Rubbing small circles around it, his soft lips were at the apex of your thigh.

He was so gentle with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. Adored, impatient, excited. Personally, you were never the vanilla type.

Jimin was so close to your core, so close. But he pulled away at the last second. You whined, at which Jimin laughed at, as he pulled his shirt off from over his head. Tossing his shirt away he climbed back up your body.

“There’s something I need to show you,” Jimin’s eyes were dark with excitement as he hovered over you.

Your puzzled look was all he needed to continue to show what he meant. He was groaning as his head hung and his expression made it seem like he was in pain. You didn’t understand what was happening until you saw the tendrils coming out from his back. They were cobalt blue. Two were thinner than the other two. They grew and grew towards the ceiling but stopped just short of it. Once they were straight, as if they were stretching, they curled back down towards you and Jimin. They floated in the air and you stared at them. You weren’t appalled. No, you were...curious. You would’ve never thought he was anything other than human.

It’s not like you believed in aliens and werewolves it’s just you the type of person that thought, maybe they do exist, maybe they don’t. It looks like they do.

“Are you gonna fuck me with those or not?” you said half-joking.

“You’re not disgusted? Horrified?” Jimin could not believe what he was hearing. You wanted him to fuck you with his tentacles. You wanted him.

“No, why would I be? I’m surprised and I have some questions but those can wait till later. Don’t you think?” you answered honestly and looked Jimin in the eyes while you said it. And after you said it, the tendrils behind Jimin visibly relaxed.

Jimin’s eyes lit up for only a second before he attacks your neck with his pillowy lips. One of the smaller tentacles reaches down between your legs causing you to get surprised and you try to close them. Jimin sucks on your neck harder as he held your legs open with his right hand, “It’s okay, jagi. I’ll make you feel good.”

As Jimin nibbles on a particularly sensitive spot, you moaned. He almost came right then and there. Your voice was already music to his ears. But your moans? Absolutely heavenly. He tried his best to keep his body from shaking from the numerous shivers. Part of him couldn’t even believe that this was happening. He was touching you, breathing in your scent, pleasuring you. It was his dreams coming true and he was intoxicated with everything you.

The tentacle between your legs began to rub your clit faster than what Jimin did. More moans started to escape you and your head tilted back into the pillows. Jimin was still making his way all-around your neck, making sure he was marking your neck thoroughly.

You felt the other small tendril circling your entrance. Becoming coated with your arousal. It slowly began to enter, inch by inch. It was about the same thickness as your trusty vibrator at home so you stretched to its girth with ease. Its smooth texture slipped past your walls effortlessly.

Jimin was starting to groan the deeper the tendril went. His breath became heavy as he nuzzled his face into your neck, “Jagi~ you’re so tight around him. I can’t wait until my cock is inside your hot cunt. Can I, jagiya?”

“Yes, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said brokenly in between moans.

Jimin sat up and quickly unbuttoned his pants and took them off swiftly. The two larger tentacles reached down to you and took off your coat and shirt. You arched from the building pressure in your abdomen just in time for them to take your bra off.

The tentacle fucking you took up a hastened pace. It was starting to go deeper and deeper with every thrust. The knot in your lower stomach grew tauter. Jimin kissed you feverishly and swallowed your moans as you got closer to the peak. The very last thrust of the tendril made you come the hardest you’ve ever came before. You felt the tendril in your stomach as it spurted. As did every other tentacle and even Jimin’s cock was spewing out cum.

Jimin’s moan was getting you excited again. It was deep and guttural. You were panting as you felt full of his cum and felt more cum on your chest and stomach.

“I didn’t know all of them had cum,” you chuckled as you regained your breath.

Jimin laughs with you, “Now you know how I felt the first time I jerked off.”

His statement made you laugh harder as both of you came down from your highs. The appendage slowly began to pull out of your cum-filled cunt. You whimpered from the sensitivity. Jimin’s cum flowed out of your entrance before Jimin plugged you up with the tip of his cock.

Feeling the head, you realized just how big Jimin was. Being too distracted to notice earlier. Jimin could tell your realization by your expression.

“What’s the matter, jagi? Never had anyone this big before?” Jimin knows he was being a tease. Even though he doesn’t want to even think about the others who’ve touched you. Only he can touch you like this. He’s the only one who can pleasure you.

You knew what he was doing. He was getting smug. But you didn’t really have the patience to play games with him.

“Who knows.”

Jimin’s smirk fell as yours grew. Jimin stared into your eyes as he slammed his entire length into you in one thrust.

“You know I’ve stuffed you full. I don’t think there’s even any room for one of my tentacles. I can feel how I’m stretching you,” Jimin wasn’t going to let you win this one.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you with him as he sat back on his heels. Your chest heaved from his massive girth inside you. One small tendril wrapped around your wrists and held them above your head, the other small one began to circle at your puckered hole while a larger one spread your right cheek to give it room. And lastly, the last, larger tentacle curled around one of your breasts.

Jimin slowly pulled out his thick cock before slamming back into your hot cunt. His moans mixed with yours as his pace became faster. Soon he was slamming in and out of you at a bruising pace. The appendage at your tight hole caught some of yours and Jimin’s combined cum and lubed you up.

At first, it only dipped in its tip. After a few thrusts, it started to go further. Still taking on a slow pace, it steadily enlarged your hole.

Jimin’s right arm let go of your waist to support himself above you as he leaned forward. He was still pistoning in and out of you with no intention of slowing down. Hair stuck to his forehead as did yours. Moans left you uncontrollably as both of your holes were being fucked and your tit was being gripped.

You felt the pressure on your breast vanish before feeling the said tendril slither up your neck. You hear Jimin breathe out a laugh as he saw his appendage shyly touch you.

“I think he wants to know if you could suck him,” Jimin smirked, knowing that’s exactly what it wanted.

Opening your mouth, the tendril appeared to become a light blue as it took the invitation. You felt the tentacle practically purr from the wetness and warmth from your mouth. It thrusted into you languidly. Not going very deep so it wouldn’t hurt you.

“Look at you. Being a slut for me. All your holes are filled with parts of me.”

His thrusts were becoming sloppy. And the tendril in your mouth was going down into your throat until you were gagging with every plunge. Your ass was so stretched out you knew that there was going to be a gap now. Maybe not a large one but there will be one. And Jimin was still pounding your swollen cunt with his massive girth.

The tendril around your wrists let go to reach down to rub your clit in quick, small circles. You’re loud, almost screaming moans were muffled by the deep throating appendage.

You could feel you were getting so close to your release. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach building. By Jimin’s groans growing louder and his sloppy pace, you tell he was close too.

He opened his eyes to see your body being completely surrounded by him. He let his arm fall around your waist again but he laid his head between your tits and put the rest of his energy into the last few hard pumps and stilled as he felt your walls flutter around him.

Your eyes rolled into your skull and Jimin squeezed his eyes closed tightly. Your walls milked Jimin’s cock as it pulsed and shot cum inside you. You felt all the tentacles pulse out cum into your throat, ass, and onto your clit and mound.

Reaching up to Jimin’s hair, you carded your fingers through the strands. Both of you were trying to calm your breathing down. Jimin was still coming but the tendril down your throat pulled out so you could breathe more easily.

Jimin began to kiss your sternum after he came down from his high. You glanced down and back up, only to glance down again to notice a visible bulge in your stomach, that's still growing.

"How much cum do you have?!" you exclaimed as you watched it grow bit by bit.

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Jimin's smug attitude was still there as he knew he was right by your silence.

Jimin reluctantly pulled out of you and he didn’t mind how much cum was pouring out of your cunt. He knew there were going to be many more times like this. And that’s when he’ll worry about keeping you plugged up but for now, he just wanted to fall asleep next to you.

He pulled your exhausted body back up to the pillows with using the help from his now sky blue tentacles before they slowly retracted back into the slits in his back.

“We should probably go, Mark and Jennie might be worried about us,” trying to sit up Jimin pulled you back down.

“No need to be in a hurry, jagi. You’re too exhausted to go out looking for him-them right?” Jimin brushed the hair from your forehead so he could see your eyes more clearly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just hope none of the employees find us,” you huffed out a laugh as you snuggled further into the covers.

Jimin wrapped his arms around you and entangled his legs with yours. He wasn’t able to even doze off until you were sound asleep. He tried not to think about what just happened so he wouldn’t become hard and wake you up. He needed the whole night to transform this place back to the original with how worn out he is.

“Goodnight jagi. Tomorrow you’ll start your new life here with me. In our own haunted house.”

You woke up to Jimin hugging you tightly beneath the warm blanket that you had dirtied just a few hours ago. Your muscles didn’t want to make any effort to move so you had to lay there until you had the energy to get up and get dressed. Stretching out your legs a bit you felt a crack somewhere in your spine. You’re puzzled about how that would affect your back but you don’t worry about it. Nuzzling back into Jimin’s neck, you finally remembered Jennie and Mark being in the house with you. They must have gone home without you given how long it’s been.

They were adults, no reason to really worry about them. You tucked the blanket over your shoulder to hide from the cold draft. Jimin felt you moving around so he got impossibly closer to you and pulled the blanket up to his neck so it covered most of your head.

You groaned and tilted your head up causing your chin to rest on his chest making your lips pout. He cracked an eye open to see what you were doing. Seeing your sleepy, pouty face made him let out a breathy chuckle.

Jimin leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Did you sleep well?” He continued his kisses all over your face, moving down to reach your nose.

“Mm-hm,” your eyes were still closed when you thought about what it was. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” he kept smothering your face in kisses.

“I have to go home soon.”

“No.”

“No? I kinda do. I need clean clothes, I need a shower, and I need to check up on Jennie and Mark,” you began to untangle yourself from Jimin’s arms and legs only to have him roll you over to lay on you. “Jimin~ I have to get up,” laughing you tried to roll back over Jimin had you completely pinned.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly into your ear before he kissed right below your lobe. “My marks are fading already, stay still.”

You huffed as he darkened the already almost purple hickeys on your neck, “After this, you have to get off me so I can go home.”

“But you can’t go home. You live here now, with me,” he pushed himself up with his forearms on the mattress. His eyes were stone. But they were warm as they bore into yours. “You’re not leaving me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you whispered as you maintained eye contact. “How can either of us live here when it’s just a stage for townspeople to dress up and scare people?”

“It seems, you haven’t noticed the change in the room,” Jimin smirked as his eyes left yours to scan the room, causing you to follow his actions.

The room was no longer a dirty beige with dust-covered furniture. It’s the same exact room except, it was gray. Everything in the room was gray beside you two. The window that had light from the fair shining through was completely blacked out. And the mirror above the desk was completely shattered. Little to no pieces remained in the frame.

“Besides, your friends tried to find us but they kind of got trapped,” He laid back down next to you and rested his head on his hand. “So there’s no need to worry about them, sweetheart.”

You pushed his arm off and swung your legs onto the floor but you felt the familiar wetness from one of Jimin’s tentacles wrap around your abdomen. It made you sit back down and pulled you back to Jimin.

“It’s true that you have all the power over me. However, that doesn’t mean I’ll let you go.”

Your heart undoubtedly fluttered.

#park jimin #bts jimin #yandere!bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jimin #yandere jimin x reader #jimin smut #possessive jimin #possessive bts #bts smut #tentacle smut #tentacles #halloween #monster mash

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chicagocryptid · 4 years

Note

'you’re the one in class who has tattoos all over their arms and piercings and everybody’s scared of you and one day I catch you watching cat videos and doodling in the middle of a lecture and wow you’re a dork' with larry and ash? i only ever seem to think of sad stuff about them and they need some cute silly stuff too.

((wow this has been sitting in my inbox for ages i’m so sorry))

False Pretenses // Larry x Ash

Warings: None

She was curious about him.

Their first day in class, most of the students had made a conscious effort to steer clear of where he was sitting, and she could see why. He looked about two decades too late, with long hippie hair and the air of a high school burnout. He was tall, too, and quiet, which most people didn’t like. They never knew what to say, she thought. They don’t know how to enjoy silence.

The next time they had class, she sat a little closer to him. Not right next to him, not yet, but two rows back, so she could spy a little better without looking suspicious. His handwriting was neat, but sloping. He had tattoos on his hands that disappeared underneath the sleeves of his flannel. He had worn his hair up, knotted at the back of his head, and she could see another tattoo peaking out at the base of his neck. She wondered if they all connected. A perfect tapestry of art.

She found herself waiting for him. She would get to class early to watch him come in. She would stay behind to watch him leave. Once she caught him in the art room, sitting behind the pottery wheel. She had to stand on her tiptoes to see him through the crosshatched window, and only left when another student rudely asked her to move so she could get inside.

She watched for weeks, but she never saw him with anyone. He always came to class alone, and left alone. There was always a circle of empty seats around him, as though he were infected with something contagious. When she saw him around campus, which was rare, he was always by himself. But he didn’t seem to mind. It didn’t seem to bother him that people cowered in his path or moved when he sat too close or avoided speaking to him as much as they could. She had thought she would feel sorry for him, but this only intrigued her more, made him an even more unattainable attraction.

It had taken a while to gather the courage, but one week before fall break, she steeled herself and set her bag down at the seat next to him in the lecture hall. She tried to make her voice as strong as possible when she asked if he would mind her sitting there. He glanced at her, and gestured to the seat, but didn’t speak. Feeling foolish, she settled into the chair and tried not to seem eager to leave.

Maybe he was a bad guy, she thought. After all, she didn’t really know him. They had never spoken. She didn’t think he’d ever even really looked at her. Maybe he did hard drugs. Maybe he was in some kind of gang. Maybe he was a murder.

Next to her, he laughed. Small, stifled behind closed lips, and she jumped a little. Oh God, she thought. He can read my thoughts. I’m thinking about him murdering me and he’s laughing. She looked over at him from the corner of her eye and was surprised to find that he hadn’t been laughing at her at all. He was watching a video of a heft orange cat climbing into a refrigerator and curling up on the shelf. The camera shifted, someone was putting it down, and then a blue haired boy entered the shot. He picked up the cat and carried him off screen. A moment later, the cat ran back to the fridge, still open, and crawled back inside. The blue haired boy picked the cat up again, and the same thing happened. Finally, resolved, the boy left the door open, picked up the phone, shrugged into the camera, and the video stopped.

Her classmate was doing his best to hold back his laughter, but it ended up backfiring and sending him into a fit of coughing. Ash laughed a little too, partly because of the video, and partly because of how flushed his face had gotten when the professor stopped the lecture and watched him until the coughing had died down. She tried to pretend she hadn’t been watching him too.

For a while, she got caught up in notes. She had been so transfixed by him all semester, she had barely paid any attention at all, and it had shown dramatically on her mid-terms. Still, every so often, her eyes drifted to his paper instead. He took notes, though far less than she, and the edges of the page were covered in drawings. Some of them were campy, a bug and a flower, a bee in a tophat. Others were filigree and decorative. Some were realistic, half of a lion’s head, part of a palm. They were gorgeous, even the cartoons. He must have caught her looking, because he cleared his throat just loud enough for her to hear, and when she looked up, their eyes met and she blanched.

“Oh.” She kept her voice at a whisper, which only served to elevate the shaking in it. “I’m sorry, they’re just -”

“Do you like them?” His voice was raspy and warm, even though he was whispering too. His eyes were the deepest brown she’d ever seen, never-ending and vast. She couldn’t tear herself from them.

“Yes.” He smiled, one side of his mouth turning up more than the other, and he looked down at the notebook. She followed his eyes and saw that he was turning pages, closer to the back. He found what he was looking for, and folded the pages over so she could see. It was her. Sketches of her leaning over her desk, focused. Of her in the cafeteria drinking diet coke, holding a french fry in her fingers, laughing. A small one of her in the common area, reading a book. She pulled the notebook towards her, awestruck, careful not to touch the graphite so it wouldn’t smudge. In the bottom corner he had written the words “Mystery Girl” in blue ink.

“They’re beautiful.” She ignored the sudden urge to cry, and pushed the notebook back towards him.

“I noticed you watching me. So I started watching you too.” She would have been embarrassed that he had discovered her doing what could probably been considered stalking, but she was too busy looking at the sketches. “You wanna keep them?” He asked, not waiting for an answer before tearing the page out of the notebook and sliding it across to her.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. They’re yours.” Even so, she put her hand on top of the paper.

“They’re you, Mystery Girl.” His eyes sparked, and her stomach flipped.

“Ash.” She picked up the paper and slid it into her notebook for safe-keeping before looking back up at him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “I’m Ash.”

“Larry.” He smiled that lopsided smile again. “Nice to meet you, Ash.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

#larry johnson #ashley campbell #sally face #sally face fanfic #larryxash #ashxlarry #sally face larry #sally face ash #beholdthemem #heres some good shit since its been so long

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druid-for-hire · 5 years

Note

can we get orpheus and eurydice's first conversation in the apartments au and their reactions to seeing each other's faces?

A wind blows through and Eurydice has to spit the hair out of her mouth.

Above her, the papers rustle and get swatted down again. There’s a commotion of banging around as the guy on the balcony above her scrambles over his furniture to keep all his music from flying away. Eurydice sees his hand reach out for one last sheet, but the wind whisks it away from his grasp. He lets out a pained cry, and the sound twists in her chest.

The wind changes again. Eurydice snatches the music out of the air before it can hit her in the face.

She’s… never seen his music before, actually. Or any sheet music that wasn’t officially printed. She’s only ever listened to him play and practice and rewrite and mumble to himself. She’s heard his process, but what does it look like?

Eurydice unfolds it gently. There’s no crinkle, she notices–it’s gone soft from being folded or crumpled so many times, probably from vigorous erasing and being hastily shoved into bags, judging by the old smudges of graphite and the tears on its curling edges. The notes themselves are extremely wibbly and sparse. It was written only for him to be able to make sense of.

She thinks that’s kind of cool, actually. Eurydice boasts no musical inclinations whatsoever, but she finds herself peering at the notes anyway, trying to find the melody out of the mess he’s scratched onto the page.

She’d gotten so invested in it that the sob above her jerks her violently back into the present. Oh crap, she thinks. Right: it’s finals week. Guy above her is stressed, lost his sheet music, and is probably going to have a breakdown if she doesn’t say anything. She should say something. Uhh, d–hell, what is she supposed to say–wait, why is this a hard question?

She leans as far as she can over the railing and calls above her, “HEY! Hey! Is this yours?”

The guy above her startles. She can hear him scrubbing at his face, and then he rushes to the railing so fast he almost goes careening over it.

His eyes are still teary and wet and his face is kind of a mess, but oh fuck, Eurydice would still call him cute. Really cute. This is the guy who plays that guitar like a gentle magic and sings so sweetly. This is the guy whose late-night practice has lulled her to sleep. This is the guy who Eurydice, in spite of herself, can already feel herself falling very, very hard for. If she’d just spotted him from across a bar she probably wouldn’t have given him a second thought. But after months of eavesdropping on him and his music and his kindness, open on display from phone calls and his visiting friends, the moment she finally sees him over the railing is the moment she decides, fuck. I’m in love with this boy.

He blanches when he sees her. “Oh my god. Uh. Y–yeah, that’s mine, uh, holy–hold on, I’ll come downstairs, please don’t fall over oh my god.”

Then he’s gone again.

She hears his steps rush to the door through the ceiling above her, and she honestly hopes he doesn’t trip and hurt himself or something. That’d be… pretty unfortunate, given the day he’s had. That she thinks he’s had, anyway. Well. He was already on the verge of crying on the balcony, so she’s pretty sure it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to say that it hasn’t been a good day. Week, even.

She pulls open the door the second he knocks. Maybe that was too eager.

He’s really cute up close. He’s like a rabbit. All cute and nervous and a little twitchy, but she doesn’t mind. It’s charming.

Ah. She’s staring.

“… I have your music,” she mumbles, and passes him the sheet.

“… Thanks.” He’s staring too. She can’t tell if the redness in his face is from crying or blushing. He doesn’t look down to take the paper, and he misses–he accidentally grabs the back of her hand instead. Both of them recoil, and the blood starts to rush to Eurydice’s ears. (His hand is pretty. Sharp around the edges, strong-looking and a little veiny; they must see a lot of use. She’d never seen a hand actually look pretty before, and she’s including the callouses.)

She regains her composure, smooths out her feathers. “Here.” She holds the sheet up higher, and he takes it this time.

“Thanks,” he repeats. “Um, I gotta go study, but do you wanna talk again?”

“Yes.” She sees his eyes light up.

“Okay. Maybe not on the balcony. It’s kind of scary when you lean out like that.”

“I’m not sure we can do anything about that. I only ever run across you when we’re both on the balcony, ‘cause we never get to run into each other when we’re leaving or coming back into the building.”

“But can you lean back? For me?”

“Pfft. Fine.” That’s a lie. Eurydice wants to see his face, and if that means leaning precariously over the railing, then so be it.

God, this guy looks so happy right now. If this is what she does to him, then maybe she’s got a chance. There’s laughter underlining his voice when he says, “Okay. Thank you so much for getting this for me.”

She shrugs. “It’s nothin’. Blew into my face anyway. Hey–I didn’t catch your name?”

“Orpheus.”

“Eurydice. Go do your homework, Orpheus. See you around.”

“Okay, Eurydice, you too.” He waves back at her as he walks back to the elevator, and Eurydice tries to ignore the way hearing her name on his lips makes her feel.

When he turns the corner and leaves her sight, she shuts the door and immediately falls back against it, sliding to the floor with her face in her hands.

Oh god.

#hadestown #hadestown au #apartments au #my work #epiceurydice #orpheus #eurydice

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just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms · 6 years

Text

Sanity is Relative Chapter 9

Catch up on the series here!

Characters: Darby, Ema, Sam, and Dean

Word Count: 2000

Written by @uttertrash--butlikecutetrash and @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

Chapter Nine

Darby

It was dark. So dark I couldn’t even see my own hands in front of my face. But there was humming. It was quiet at first as I stumbled forward trying to find it. I knew the song… Dear Prudence… I tried to hum along as I walked forward but the blackness began to seep into my lungs. It was a stinging cold as it took over my chest. The humming got louder and I knew who was humming…

“Daddy?” I choke out.

The dark was consuming me, I felt it all over. Inside and out. In my lungs, my throat, every inch of my skin. It was pushing its way into my nostrils now and my eyes were stinging. I fell to my knees and tried to breathe but I couldn’t… the humming stopped and I heard him.

“D.G. my little princess…” my father’s voice sang in my ear. I swung my arms wildly trying to find him. Suddenly the darkness in me shifted and ripped through my insides. I doubled over in excruciating pain. I clawed at my neck, desperate for air that wasn’t thick and black and stinging. My father laughed in my ear but it wasn’t his laugh. It was evil, menacing. “Let it take you, Darby. Let the darkness win. Feed the monster…”

I sat up in bed gasping and clawing at my neck. Cold sweat covered my body as I struggled to regain my breath. My heart slammed against my ribs as I steadied myself. It was only a dream. Only a dream….

Then I looked down and what I saw made my blood run cold. On my lap was my opened sketch pad. The page had a drawing of me clutching my throat, black smoke forcing its way into my mouth and nostrils. The smoke though, it was in the shape of a body with white, menacing eyes. Above the picture were the words FEED THE MONSTER…

Shaking I held up my hand. My fingertips smudged with graphite.

….How did I draw this in my sleep?

——

I sat quietly in the common room, studying the picture. It gave me a cold, empty feeling looking at it. A chill so severe I felt it in my bones. It was like depression on steroids. I felt like a dried up husk.The more I looked at the art, the emptier I felt. I tried to look away but I couldn’t. I’d been staring at it all day. I was so immersed in it that I didn’t even notice when Sam and Ema came and sat by me.

“Whatcha got there?” Ema’s sweet voice chimed, but still I gazed at the drawing. “Hello, Darby, earth to Darby. Come in Darby.”

I looked up at her and blinked slowly, “Sorry, I’m out of it. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Ema’s face went from a wide grin to absolute concern. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, “Just bad dreams.”

“‘Bout what?” Dean’s gruff voice asked from behind me. I waited until he sat down before I slid my sketch pad in the center of the table.

“That.” I said, my finger pointing into the scribbled swirling blackness. Sam and Dean’s eyes went wide. Both leaning forward to get a better look as I went on explaining, “It was dark and cold. It consumed me. It had my father’s voice…”

“Your father’s voice?” Ema asked, grabbing the pad and bringing it to her. The moment her hand touched the paper she went pale. Her mouth became a hard, thin line.

“You okay Em?” Sam asked.

Ema nodded before she turned back to me, “What do you mean it had your father’s voice?”

I sighed and ran my hand over my face dreading the explanation. A chill crept down my spine but still I spoke, “It sounded like my father. Hummed his favorite song. Called me by the nickname only he ever called me. It sounded just like him but…. It was so cold. So empty. It told me to let the darkness in. To feed the monster. Whatever that means.” My body involuntarily shuttered. “I can still feel it in me.”

“And you drew this when you woke up?” Sam asked.

I shook my head, “I drew it in my sleep.”

“Bullshit.” Dean scoffed.

“I swear….”

Ema leaned in close to Sam and whispered in his ear. He nodded and then grabbed the drawing.

“Can I keep this?” Sam asked. I gave him a shrug as he tore the page from the book.

“Wait,” I raise an eyebrow, “this isn’t for some weird hunting ghost mumbo jumbo or whatever, is it?”

A weak smile spread across Sam’s face, “Nope. Not at all.”

I let out a small chuckle, “You are a bad liar, Winchester.” Sam let out a laugh and nodded.

Ema touched my hand and I suddenly wasn’t so cold anymore. “Why don’t you go take a nap? You look exhausted.” I was. I felt like I could barely keep my eyes open. “Dean, why don’t you walk Darby to her room?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, “Darby can walk herself to her room.” Ema shot him a look. He rolled his eyes and stood, “Fine, fine… Come on Darby.”

We left the room and walked silently together down the halls.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked. Dean shook his head but still said nothing. I chewed on my lower lip. “Is it because of what I said the other day?” He simply shrugged. Grabbing his bicep with one hand and gently placing my head on his shoulder I continued, “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’ve never had any real friends so I’m very bad with interacting with other humans.”

Finally he let out a laugh, “No shit.”

“Plus,” I sighed as I gripped his arm a bit tighter, enjoying the way his muscles felt under my fingers, “I’m my own brand of crazy so take everything I say with a grain of salt. After all, I’ve tried to kill myself a couple of times.”

“Six.” He corrected, “Six times in ten years. Gotta be a record.”

I laughed a little at my own expense. “Finished reading my file I see.”

Dean glanced down at me as he spoke, “It’s a very thick file.”

“That’s what she said.” We said in unison. We looked at each other and laughed. We kept chuckling about the terrible joke right until we made it to my room. I reluctantly let go of Dean’s arm and headed towards the door.

“We good?” I asked.

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip before he let out a sigh, “We’re good.”

------

Ema

“Ema! Ema!” Sam hissed as he jogged after me. The color in my face wasn’t coming back, and all I wanted was to lay down in my bed. “Ema! Tell me what’s going on!”

“The darkness!” I whirled around. “The Shadow Man, he’s in Darby’s head.” Now it was Sam’s turn to have the color drain from his face. “I don’t know how, but it’s him. He’s there. I felt him when I touched her drawing. Suddenly I was a kid again and he was telling me to run.”

“Let’s get you in bed.” Sam put his arm up for me to hold onto, and we walked in silence to my room. My mind was racing, trying to figure out how he found Darby. Had I somehow lead him to her? Did I bring him to such a vulnerable woman? Oh god...has he been following me all this time? How many other people did he torture!

Sam stopped and turned, each of his hands resting on my shoulder. “You okay?” I just blinked at him, slowly coming out of my head. “Your hand was shaking and your grip got really tight.” Sam’s eyes searched mine. It was like he was trying to see inside my brain to figure out what was troubling me. “What is going on up there?”

I hadn’t realized just how upset all of this made me, and my knees gave out. Sam caught me, bringing me up so he could wrap me in his arms. I don’t even know why exactly I was crying. Was I concerned? Of course. Did I feel terrible that I might of caused all of this? Not a doubt in my mind. But the biggest thing I was feeling was a deep sadness I had never let myself feel before.

I left them. I left them to the Shadow Man and they died. I’d never even looked into it more as I got older to know how it happened. I left my parents, my sister, my two brothers. All of them in the Shadow Man’s hands. But when I touched that picture, the Shadow Man was much darker than I remembered. When I met him he wasn’t warm or kind. He was insistent and pushy. But now, when I felt him, he was dark and violently angry. I couldn’t imagine what that would do to a person. Let alone my family.

Sam finally felt my body starting to go limp and fatigue. Scooping me into his arms, he carried me to my room, and laid me gently in bed. By that point I was a curled up, sobbing ball. “Ema, you need to talk to me.” Sam rubbed my back and sat next to me. “I know it’s got to be bad, and horrible. But you need to tell me.” Between sobs I told him everything. His face slowly fell as I told him about Darby’s drawing. “Ema, you can’t put this on yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. If he is going after Darby, then we will fix it. Dean and I are the right people for this, and using your energy abilities we can find where he is. But for right now, we can’t tell Darby. If she tries to fight him or shut him out, he might attack her.”

“But...but what if he’s the reason she’s hurting herself? What if I brought that to her?”

Sam wasn’t sure what to say. His sad eyes pushed into my energy, and I could feel his concern and determination to fix all of this. “Em, she was sick and troubled long before you met her. And if it has been the darkness this whole time, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

“What if she hurts herself again!”

Sam gave me a stern nod, and set his jaw. “Then we keep her safe, fight and kill the douche, and we hope to god that she’s able to fully turn around. We can help her Em. Part of that means though that we have to do it without her knowing.”

“What about Dean? Should we tell him?” Sam thought for awhile, and slowly nodded. “He needs to know. He’s attached to her. It’s only fair that he knows what to watch for so that if anything goes wrong, he can be ready to handle it until we get there to help.”

Sam ran his hand over the side of my face, pushing my hair back. Hesitantly he leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “Get some rest. You need it. Tomorrow we can work on Dean. But right now, you need rest.”

Curling up under my blanket and into my pillow, I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. But as Sam got up, it only made things worse. He was calming, and healing. “Can you...can you stay? Please? Just until I fall asleep. You calm me.” I gave him a sheepish smile, and when he sat back down I buried my face into my pillow. I had an entire new set of problems now. As much as Sam calmed my body, he still made my heart race.

Sanity Tags

@growingupgeek @emoryhemsworth @love-kittykat21 @oneshoeshort @supernatural-fangirl13 @wayward-ella @bunnybaby121115 @kazkingdom @winchesterprincessbride

#sanity is relative fic #semi supernatural fic #ofc supernatural

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lickstynine · 6 years

Text

Happy Holigays

This is a sequel to my Secret Santa gift from @builder051, featuring young! Min and Kazu. Make sure to read it first, cause it sets the scene for this. I really loved it, and had to build (ha get it) off it. I know it’s set on Christmas and I’m like a week and a half late, but... I don’t really give a fuck. it’s all fiction anyway. Enjoy.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when the two finally made their way to bed. Kazu pulled Min against his chest, keeping the small blond from falling off mattress's edge. The old twin bed was far too small for two people, and nearly half a foot too short for Kazu, but as the alternative was a park bench, he really didn't care. Burying his face in Min's bleach-blond fluff, Kazu started to doze off, the exhaustion of fever taking a toll on his battered body.

As Christmas morning rolled around, Minato got up bright and early; the bakery was closed today, but he still wanted time to have breakfast and watch the snow fall outside. Settling in at one of the small tables out front, he gazed out the big glass window, nibbling on warm, fresh pancakes and sipping hot chocolate. Normally he would have milk or tea with breakfast, but fuck it, it's Christmas.

There was a sharp chill in the air - the bakery didn't have a very good heater, it usually relied on the running ovens for warmth. Shivering slightly, Min stole a throw blanket off the couch, wrapping it around himself like a cape. He made his way back to the kitchen, cleaning off the griddle he'd made pancakes on and setting it aside. He turned instead to the kettle, pouring more hot water into a new packet of cocoa mix. He had the ingredients to make it from scratch, but he was feeling as lazy as he was indulgent.

Grabbing a candy cane from the jar on the counter, and a few cookies from the plate next to it, Min settled on the couch, turning on the TV, but leaving the volume low so as not to bother Kazu. He had a feeling his boyfriend would still be in pretty poor shape today, and Min wondered whether he had the ingredients to make chicken soup. Shrugging to himself, he cozied up under his blanket; soup wouldn't matter for at least a few more hours - Kazu wouldn't be up before noon unless the house was on fire.

Min was deep into some tired old hallmark movie when footsteps behind him alerted him to his boyfriend's presence. Kazu had dragged the comforter out of bed with him, and he shuffled over to the couch, dropping down next to Minato with a groan.

"Hi sweetie." The tiny blond ventured, "how are you feeling?"

"Shitty." Kazu's voice was barely there, a hoarse shadow of his usual deep baritone. He felt like he was dying - a hangover and a high fever were a nasty combination, and the added pain in his hurt wrist didn't help. He closed his eyes, the dim light of the old TV aggravating his headache.

Minato frowned sympathetically, scooting over to cozy up against his boyfriend. He ran a hand through Kazu's messy hair, loosening some of the tangles with his small, nimble fingers. Despite how quiet the dark-haired boy was being, Min could tell he was miserable, and tried to think what he might do to help. "I'm gonna go to the kitchen. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Mm." Kazu nodded vaguely; it was unsure whether he actually heard Min, or was just pretending to listen. Either way, the tiny blond shuffled off, reheating the kettle and putting a pot on the stove. Minato ended up being gone nearly forty minutes. Kazu started to grow bored, opening one eye to scan the tiny living room. The shitty hallmark movie was currently on a commercial, which was debatably more entertaining than the film itself.

There were two presents hiding under the tree in the corner. Well, 'tree' was a generous term. It was a cone of cardboard wrapped in green tinsel, with dollar store ornaments stuck around it; Kazu had assembled it a few weeks ago, when Min broke down crying upon realizing they couldn't afford a tree. Kazu knew what one of the gifts was - the large, flat envelope concealed a portrait he'd spent weeks on, of him and Min in their favourite garden. He assumed the wrapped box to be holding something equally cheap and symbolic - perhaps some homemade jewelry, or a crocheted blanket. He couldn't know for sure, though. Min had been intensely secretive about the whole gifting process, wanting them both to be surprised on Christmas. Kazu couldn't help but feel a little guilty; he stayed in Min's house, ate his food, wasted his time, and all he had to offer was a drawing. It was an excellent piece of art, but it still felt worthless compared to all that Minato gave him.

His focus on the tree started to blur, and Kazu stretched out on the couch, grimacing and groaning as he struggled to get comfortable. His whole body ached, and there was an intense pain lingering in his right hand. He couldn't even remember what he'd done to hurt it last night, but it had to have been nasty. He was just glad it hasn't been his shoulder again; it still hadn't quite recovered from the last dislocation, and was also aching quite a bit with the aggravation of illness. Kazu closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his good hand. His body was such a wreck - it'd be a miracle if he made it to thirty at this rate. He wondered if he even wanted to make it to thirty.

Kazu's morbid train of thought was cut short by the cheery voice of his boyfriend. Minato had returned, bearing soup, tea, and painkillers. Kazu sat up, reaching first for the pills, downing them dry before grabbing the tea to ease his sore throat. "You're the best, babe." He croaked, "is your church still doing the saint thing? Cause you should be one."

Minato giggled, rolling his eyes and sitting down next to his boyfriend. "I'm not that great. Besides, I think you have to actually be a devout Catholic to be a saint. I haven't even been to church since I was like seventeen."

"Eh, you're better'n those stuffy old fucks in my book." Kazu shrugged, wincing regretfully at the twinge in his bad shoulder. He wondered if it was acting up because he was sick and achy, or if he'd messed it up again last night, and just been too wasted to notice. He set his tea aside after a few sips, tugging the comforter around himself with a shiver.

Min frowned in concern. Kazu was normally very resilient to the cold; just last week, he'd been hanging out in this same chilly room in his boxers. For him to be shivering, he had to be seriously ill. Minato pressed a hand to Kazu's forehead, his icy fingers absorbing the heat as it radiated off his boyfriend. "Don't drink any more tea for a bit. I need to check your temperature."

"Won't the meds 've kicked in?"

"Not that fast." Min explained, climbing to his feet to find the thermometer. It was still on the bathroom counter, left over from last night. He tucked it into the sleeve of his sweater, stopping in the kitchen for a cookie before returning to Kazu. The dark-haired boy was curled up on the couch, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed. Min flapped his sleeves in concern, almost losing the thermometer in the process. Though he'd taken care of hurt Kazu many times, he'd never seen his boyfriend sick before, and it was worrying on a different level. He sat back down on the couch, fidgeting anxiously as he looked over at the dark-haired troublemaker.

Turning to the Hallmark movie to keep himself occupied, Min still found himself glancing obsessively at his phone, checking it every thirty or so seconds until enough time had passed. After about fifteen minutes, he picked up the thermometer, reaching over to stick it in Kazu's mouth. The dark-haired boy mumbled something unintelligible, likely a dick joke, and Minato poked his nose.

"Hush."

The mercury crept slowly up the thin glass tube, and after a moment, Min gently retrieved it, squinting in the dim light to make out the tiny numbers. "One oh... oh my god..." His jaw dropped, and his sleeves began flapping again. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"You're stressing too much, babe. 'S just a fever. I always run hot, it ain't as bad as it looks." Kazu wasn't actually sure of that, but he was an excellent liar, and he put his good hand on Min's shoulder to further reassure his tiny boyfriend.

Minato sighed, still waving his sleeves as he spoke. "Okay, but if you're not feeling better tomorrow, doctor."

"Sure. That's fine." Kazu knew he could talk his way out of it, even if he was literally on fire tomorrow. Min was soft and naive and relentlessly optimistic; just saying "It's okay" was often enough to win him over.

"Good." Min tried to think of something more cheerful. "Do you feel up to opening presents?"

Kazu nodded, "Yea, why not. You first."

Minato hurried over to the tree, grabbing both gifts and setting them on the coffee table. He picked up his present, working his finger under the flap of the envelope to unstick the glue rather than tearing it. After a bit of fiddling, he pulled out a large sheet of heavy drawing paper, filled with easily forty hours' worth of intricate graphite.

Min's eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. "It's beautiful..." he beamed, "I love it." He tucked it very carefully back into the envelope, making sure not to bend or smudge it. "I'll find a frame tomorrow when the stores are open. I want to put it up on the wall."

"Eh, it ain't that great..." Kazu shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise.

"Are you kidding? You're such a good artist, it's crazy." Min scooped up the box now, offering it to his boyfriend. "Come on. Open yours. I got a great present, now it's your turn."

Kazu struggled with the wrapping for a moment; it was hard to untie a bow one-handed. Once he'd loosed the ribbon, he tore into the paper, lifting the cardboard lid without much expectation. As he focused on the gift inside, Kazu let out an audible gasp. It was a sleek leather jacket, sturdy and warm, with a hooded inner layer. He recognized it immediately, and felt a pang of guilt in his chest; it must've cost Min two months' savings at least.

"Do you like it? I remember you ogling it when we were window shopping last month." Minato smiled softly, hugging his boyfriend's closer arm.

Kazu nodded, barely able to force out the words. "I... I love it. Thank you."

"I thought you might. God knows you need a new one." Minato mused, his mind drifting to Kazu's old jacket. An amalgamation of fleece and denim, it was once black, but had faded to grey, and was more patches and cigarette burns than fabric. Though originally quite warm, it had long worn thin, and was well overdue for a replacement.

"Well, yeah, but... It's expensive..." Kazu's scratchy voice wavered in distress. "I didn't spend shit on you..." he mumbled shamefully.

Minato rolled his eyes. "I know that. You think I care? I love you, and I don't want you freezing to death. It doesn't matter if you repay me."

Kazu shook his head, too exhausted to argue. “You’re crazy, babe.” He croaked, carefully folding the jacket back into the box before setting it aside.

“Crazy for you.” Min corrected, climbing into Kazu’s lap. “Mm… you’re nice and warm.”

“No shit,” Kazu rolled his eyes, “I gotta fever.”

Minato shrugged. “At least you’re good for cuddling.” He tugged the comforter over them both, cozying up in Kazu’s lap.

The dark-haired boy wanted to protest. Despite having taken medicine, he was only feeling worse, and he’d been planning to retreat back to the bedroom after presents. The pounding in his head and churning in his stomach had him ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but when Min let out a tiny content sigh, Kazu knew his fate was sealed. He’d be on the couch for the foreseeable future whether he liked it or not. Not that Minato wouldn’t have moved if Kazu asked, but because Kazu couldn’t bring himself to ask. He knew the tiny blond was happy and comfortable, and he’d already been enough of a thorn in Min’s side this Christmas. He could suck it up and be sick later.

Stuck on the couch with nothing to do but think, Kazu couldn't help but reflect on his gift. Was he a piece of shit for accepting an expensive present from Minato, when he already stayed at the bakery rent-free? Or did stuff like that stop mattering if you were dating the person in question? Should he have worked more last month, and maybe wasted a little less cash on his own vices, so he could get Min a real gift? Min had seemed pleased with the drawing, but maybe he was faking it…

No. Minato couldn't tell a lie to save his life, and he was very easy to please. If he said he liked something, he did. Kazu twisted his hair around the fingers of his good hand, the voices in his head still debating about how he was a piece of shit who didn't deserve Min, much less nice gifts from him. A shaky sigh rattled out of Kazu, and the seemingly distracted Min leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“If you don't feel good, go back to bed. We can do something together when you feel better.”

The dark-haired boy blinked in surprise, looking down at Minato through bleary eyes. “Are ya sure? I already crashed your Christmas Eve, I don't wanna make today suck, too.”

Min rolled his eyes, gently booping Kazu’s nose with his fingertip. “I don't care what day it is, stupid. I just want you to feel better. I'll be happy whenever we get to do stuff.”

“You… you will?”

“Of course I will.” Min nodded, wrapping his arms gently around his boyfriend. “You need to get some rest. Are you more comfortable here or in bed?”

Kazu just shrugged; both the couch and bed were too short for him, it was really just a matter of laziness - did he want to get up, or stay where he was?

“I won't move you then.” Minato decided, pecking Kazu on the cheek again before climbing to his feet. “I should make sure the kitchen is ready for tomorrow. Just call if you need anything.”

“Mm.” Kazu nodded, more dismissive than acknowledging as he curled up on the couch. He didn't need anything aside from sleep, and he knew Min would be careful not to bother him.

Min leaned down over the couch, making sure Kazu was well tucked in before walking off. “Sleep well, sweetie. Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“Yea… love you, too.”

#whump #illness #fever #cold #kazuhiro #yokota #minato #kurosawa #some real gay shit #builder051

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