#someone take ms paint away from him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violetarks · 27 days

Text

megumi's parental figure, early 20s! gojo satoru, comes in to discuss with you, first year teacher as 'ms l/n', a little mishap that has occured between the young boy and someone else in your class. a fight had broke out in the midst of recess and, while on your break in the teacher's lounge, you were called to the entrance of the room with the two boys, both with their fair share of scratches and scruffed up clothes.

the office had to tell the respective parents to come in to talk after school, while you stood with the boys in the sick bay, helping the nurse clean their wounds.

megumi grunts, "don't call gojo..."

"i have to, sweetie." you retort, placing a bandaid on his cheek from the bark that scratched his face when he was pushed into the ground. megumi frowns even more. "it's the school's policy. i'm sorry."

he only nods his head, eyes pricking with tears as the kid beside him bawled his eyes out about getting in trouble with his parents

you know it's megumi's so-called 'immature, loud-mouth, waste of time and effort' guardian when he comes bursting through the hallway in some kind of uniform, glasses on his nose and fringe messily sticking to his sweaty forehead. not the man you had pictured taking care of megumi.

"megumi! megumi!" he calls, rushing up to you and the boys. they sat in the chairs outside of your classroom while the rest of yours kids were painting. megumi groaned, covering his face in embarrassment as satoru kneeled down in front of him and badgered on. "what happened? i came as soon as i got the call!"

megumi, unwilling to answer, only glares at the boy beside him, who does the same thing.

you sigh, "your son and his classmate were in a physical fight today, mr gojo."

satoru looks to you for a split second before doing a double take. his blue eyes peak over his glasses and you find yourself clearing your throat to gather your nerves again.

as soon as satoru turns back to megumi, he's worried again. "oh god... megumi, please, tell me, did you win—?"

"mr gojo!" you harshly whisper, slight chuckle in your tone at the question. he glances up at you. "please."

so now you sit with both of the boys' parents — megumi and his legal father, satoru (who hasn't stopped smiling at you since he walked in, which is a step up from his not-much-older sister coming in to fill in for their parents), and the other boy, ibuki, and his parents, mr and mrs sawamura (who were of high paying jobs).

the mother and father duo look unpleased to be there, whilst satoru just keeps sending you the warmest gaze. the boys are glaring at each other, clicking their tongues and looking away.

"i apologise for the inconvenience this has caused." you explain, hands on your lap as your sit on your chair at the head of the classroom, "but i'm afraid the school's contacted you on such short notice due to the events of today."

you begin to explain what you know from the boys and what other teachers have told you. megumi and ibuki have never been friends due to clashing ideas, but today, ibuki pushed megumi onto the floor at the playground in the middle of playing tag when megumi was 'it' and tagged ibuki. as a result, ibuki made a comment on megumi's absent parents.

the ravenette, in return, pushed ibuki back and told him to apologise, only for ibuki to throw the first punch. a minor brawl occured, with slapping, kicking, punching and bark throwing whilst other kids watched. nothing was severely damaged, but scratches and light bruises were evident on the boys.

in the end, neither of the boys wanted to apologise.

"what could my son have possibly done?" mrs sawamura questions, crossed arms. the two have been hostile since the start, but you don't react.

"mrs sawamura, ibuki put his hands on megumi and pushed him to the ground whilst insulting him." you reiterate, "i'm sorry, but all accounts state this."

"ibuki, did you do such a thing?" mr sawamura questions, glaring at his son.

ibuki, baffled and nervous, begins to sputter out, "i—well, megumi...! he—he bullied me and said i was a slow runner!”

"i wasn't making fun of you, i was stating a fact." megumi retorts, shaking his head. satoru smirks.

"if anyone should be punished, it should be that bully of a kid!" mrs sawamura exasperates, "goodness, what kind of child resorts to such hostility? children say anything these days! what are you raising?"

satoru turns to her with a roll of his eyes. "a kid with common sense. maybe the reason your kid is so jealous of megumi isn't just because he's smarter than him or cooler, but because megumi knows to cover mouth when to sneeze rather than on other kids at the christmas concert."

"it was an accident!" ibuki cries out, wiping his tears.

"you told all the boys you were gonna' do it!" megumi retaliates, rolling his eyes as well. the resembalance is uncanny.

"nonsense!" mr sawamura exclaims, standing from his chair. you rub your temple, headache ensuing. mrs sawamura only shakes her head as her son sticks her tongue out at satoru. "ibuki would never be jealous of someone like megumi!"

for the first time since he began, satoru's smile drops. he stands as well, towering over the other man. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"okay, let's dail it down, please." you say, standing up as well. you watch as the two men do as you say and seat themselves, all the while glaring at each other. "now, it is a two day suspention. no exceptions. and the kids will have to complete all assigned work i have for them. here."

you give the two boys a folder each, filled with a short workbook and other things, and you don't even allow mr and mrs sawamura to complain before you stand up and bow your head.

"both children are in trouble for participating in the fight." you explain calmly, furrowed brows, "however, this is not the first instance ibuki has been caught talking about other people's privacy. i believe this is an issue to be solved at home."

your last sentence makes satoru giggle and stare at the couple, judging them. they, in return, begin mumbling in their placesnamd crossing their arms.

"thank you for taking the time out of your day to discuss this unfortunate event. i shall see you kids on thursday. good evening." you say blankly, already grabbing your belongings and heading out the door.

satoru is quick to catch up to you before you get into your car.

"hey, ms l/n!" he calls, holding megumi's hand as he gets dragged along in the carpark.

"mr gojo." you reply, expecting him to start explaining megumi's actions.

"thank you for standing up for megumi today." he says, making you stop, "it's good to know that he has someone looking out for him at school."

"oh... i, uh, i don't mind. he's my student, and he does very well in my classes." you explain, smiling at the kid, "how's your cheek, megumi?"

"doesn't hurt at all..." he retorts, looking to the ground. you only grin.

satoru then holds out his other hand. "you can call me 'satoru'. i want to take you out for dinner as a 'thanks' for helping out megumi."

you stop before shaking his hand. "i'm y/n. i'd love you, but..." your eyes drift to megumi, who only turns away with a pout. "i try to keep my work life and personal life separate."

satoru lets out a small chuckle before nodding his head. "i understand. thank you, ms l/n. you're megumi's favourite teacher."

"hey!" megumi grumbles, jabbing at the white-haired man's stomach, "ugh! let's just go home!"

you wave as megumi drags satoru to a nice black car, and they drive to the school gates as you enter your own vehicle.

you're incredibly surprised when you are informed by the principal that fushiguro megumi is leaving the school after only four months of being under your care. you begin to question why he was leaving. were you not a suitable teacher for him? what was wrong with your teaching style?

megumi explains to you that he's upset he's leaving because he actually doesn't want to go. he wants to stay, and he has never complained about you to satoru. you asked why he's moving schools, and he only shrugs and says satoru told him he would be.

when satoru comes to pick up megumi, you make sure to stand at his side with your arms crossed. the man is pleasantly surprised when he sees you with an annoyed expression.

"ms l/n, lovely seeing you again." he says, patting his adopted son's head. the boy scowls and pushes his hand away, stepping closer to you.

"mr gojo, i'd like to ask why you are making megumi move schools when he is perfectly fine here. is this a problem with me? is my way of teaching not up to your standards?" you begin, looking at him dead in the eye.

satoru chuckles, hands in his pockets, "not at all, y/n. megumi actually does pretty well under your care."

"so what is it?"

"i don't want him to be your student." he hums out, shrugging his shoulders, "because you don't mix work with your personal life, i figured i'd take us out of your work life. if megumi is no longer your student, then i can be your boyfriend."

your stilled, frozen as he smiles dumbly at you. any teachers or parents close enough to hear your conversation stop to giggle behind their hands, enjoying the short display of romance. you furrow your brows before uncrossing your arms, tilting your head to the side.

"i—" you begin, pursing your lips and covering your face a little. he lets out a small laugh. "satoru, you can't just..."

"if you care that much about megumi's education, you're more than welcome to come over for dinner and we can tutor him." he offers, grinning at you with such softness that you immediately hum in agreement, "that's great! c'mon, megumi, you can see ms l/n saturday night. say 'goodbye' to your friends and we'll go."

megumi then runs off to bid his friends 'goodbye', all of them crying out about never seeing each other again. in the meantime, satoru stands at your side, hands in his pockets.

"so," he begins, "can i take you out for dinner this weekend? megumi will be out of this school by then."

"i don't appreciate you taking megumi out of this school just because you wanted to ask me out." you huff out, tilting your head at him.

satoru smiles wider, bumping his hip with yours. “just imagine all the other things i’m willing to do to score a chance with you.”

“whatever.” you chuckle, looking back to him, “one date, i will give you one chance.”

“that is all i need. thank you, y/n.” he responds, winking at you. he turns back to megumi, waving his hand. “c’mon, kid! time to go home!”

as they leave, satoru shoots you one last smile and you swear you can hear your heartbeat quicken.

that was the last time megumi was ever your student and the first time satoru made you swoon.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #satoru #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

668 notes · View notes

iheartyouyou · 2 years

Text

OUT LOUD | Eddie Munson

Summary: When you and Robin pass notes in class about Eddie Munson, the teacher calls you both out for it, confiscating the notes. To make matters worse, she reads the notes out loud catching the attention of the very special freak.

Part 2

Author’s Note: Not proofread, sorry lmao 😭

You felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to be met by a very annoyed classmate with a neatly folded up note gripped in between their two fingers. They looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to grab it.

You take it, looking around to see who could have given it to you. You locked eyes with Robin, her nodding to you to open the note.

“When are you going to tell him?” The note read in sloppy hand-writing. Robin’s hand writing wasn’t the very best, you were surprised that you were even able to read it.

“Who?” You wrote underneath her sentence. You knew who she was talking about, you just decided to play dumb. What if— whoever the person’s name behind you— read it and told Eddie that the two of you were passing notes about the dungeon master? Ever since Robin found out about your crush on Eddie, she has been nonstop trying to convince you to tell him.

You turned around in your seat, a tight-lipped smile on your lips as you gave it to the person behind you. They frown, snatching the note before giving it to Robin.

You watch as she opens it, her eyes scanning the paper before looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow. She scribbled something on the paper before giving it back to the annoyed person who was now a note messenger for the two of you.

You take the note, opening it up. “Eddie? Who else would I be talking about. You really need to tell him, I’m telling you, he likes you back! I swear I saw him staring at you earlier in the hallway, his eyes were like heart-shaped!”

A faint blush painted your cheeks. Was he actually staring at you earlier? The two of you only talked a few times, only knowing each other because of Robin and Steve. You guys have probably talked three times the whole school year. The first time was when Steve introduced you two, the second was when you accidentally bumped into him during lunch and the third time… was when you bumped into him, again.

“Chrissy was near me. He was probably staring at her.” You quickly scribbled onto the paper.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” Your teacher started, her witch hand snatching the piece of paper out your hands. You gasped.

“Are your notes more important than this class?” She asked, squinting her eyes to read the words written on the paper.

“N-no, ma’am.” You mumbled. You prayed that she would just throw it away, confiscate it and tell you, you can get it after class. But, no. With your luck, she decided to humiliate you, her screechy voice reading everything out-loud enough for the whole school to hear.

She mimicked the words, trying her best to read Robin’s sloppy handwriting. “When are you going to tell him? Who? Ed…” You slouched into your seat, covering your face with your hands to hide your red, embarrassed face. You prayed that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

You didn’t dare look up, even when she lectured you about how you should be worrying more about school than boys. How boys were going to get you nowhere in life. She then threw the note in the trash, her face grimacing.

You could hear a few snickers from students in the classroom, some whispering and judging you for having a crush on the infamous freak. You could already imagine the rumors that would be spreading around by the end of the day.

What did Eddie think of you now? Was he snickering along with the rest or the class? Was he going to take apart of those rumors? Was he disgusted? Embarrassed for you?

You hesitantly removed your face from your hands, looking back at Robin to send her a glare. She just gave you a apologetic look before mouthing the word “sorry”.

In your peripheral vision you could see someone staring at you. You already knew who it was. You remembered where he sat, it was the one area of the room you tried your best to avoid— to avoid any obvious signs of your crush on him.

You turned back in your seat, crossing your arms as you went back to slouching. You prayed and begged that you would be able to escape the classroom before Eddie could have the chance to confront you. You could just avoid him for the rest of your life.

A few minutes went by of you trying to find a way to disappear when you felt a all-too-familiar tap on your shoulder. Was Robin trying to embarrass you, again?

You turned around, the note messenger holding up another note for you to take. You look back quickly at the teacher to make sure she wasn’t looking before snatching it, turning back around to open it up under your desk.

“I was actually staring at you, not Chrissy. Cheerleaders aren’t my type. - Eddie”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #eddie munson fic #stranger things 4

12K notes · View notes

asterias-record-shop · 10 months

Note

MORE DAVE LIZEWSKI PLEASE

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— i can’t stop!

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Dave slowly becomes a sex addict after you fuck him on the daily. Part 1

Dave truly didn’t know what hit him the day he found you in the copy room humping his jacket. He certainly wasn’t prepared to actually be fucked daily, and to be honest, he couldn’t stop thinking about it anymore. He was now used to fucking you daily, more than once, being taken out of class by you posing as someone who helped the office to take him out and pull him to fuck somewhere in the school.

Today, though, was different. He had been squirming in his seat all day, desperately trying to calm down his raging boner. These past few days you both had been having sex, it was beautiful and amazing and passionate, it was something you both had basically become addicted to.

Sex with you was different than what he would have ever expected to have loved so much. It was exhilarating with you, fueling him day and night with energy until it was replenished the next time he was able to fuck you, push his cock so deep inside of your perfect cunt he couldn't stop thinking about-

"Hi Ms. Grey, the office needs David Lizewski again. This time it's for early release." Your voice made him stand up immediately, grabbing his bag and walking toward the door.

“Make sure you finish the chapter, Dave!” She yelled, but he truly wasn’t listening when he pushed you into an empty classroom.

“David? What’s wrong?” Over the past few months, you had gotten more attached to him other than seeing him as just your sex partner, and you had never seen him like this before.

“I-I can’t stop!” He whined, bucking his hips against your cunt as you gasped. “I can’t stop thinking about fucking you, holy shit I was humping my desk before you came in there… I swear, I’ve cum like four times today, I need to fuck you.”

His words make you laugh, gasping as he tucked under your jaw to press kisses to your cheek and down your neck, desperate and needy as he rushed to unzip his pants as he started lifting up your skirt. "L-Let me fuck you, Y/N, please?"

"D-David, as much as I want to - fuck - have sex with you right now, there's supposed to be a class coming in here soon and we have to leave." You panted as he whined, pulling away as he pouted up at you. "But I pulled you out of class... for the entire day, and it's a Friday. So, we have all weekend to fuck and get high and just fuck."

Dave smiled as you zipped up his pants, gripping his cock with a giggle as you pushed him back. "Aren't you glad that my daddy bought us an apartment? No one will interrupt our seventy-two-hour sex spree."

And a spree it was. As soon as you both got home, Dave had you against the wall, pushing your chest to press against the soft grey painted wall and pulling up your skirt. He was quick to pull up your skirt and unzip his pants, quickly pushing into you with a loud exhale. "Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N."

"I better feel good if you've came four times- fuck!" You cursed as his hips snap forward, his large hands holding your hips as he pushed his fingers to rub against your clit. "D-David, baby, slow down-"

"I can't," he whispers, gasping as his hips start rutting automatically against your ass, your slick folds making the wet noises fill the home. The noises fueled him, his thrusts getting faster and rougher, loud moans falling from his mouth as you basically scratched against the walls. "Fucking hell, I can't stop thinking about you... I never want to stop fucking you."

And to be honest, he didn't. He held himself to that standard, never once pulling out of you as he maneuvered all throughout the house and fucked you literally against anything he could, resulting in you ultimately passing out as soon as he got you to the bed.

Dave sighed as he hovered over your body, smiling slightly when he saw your hickey littered form and cum caked thighs, you smelled perfect, a mix of your perfume and the cologne you bought him. He cleaned you up with your favorite towels, the special ones made of a special fabric that you loved the texture of.

He pulled away, not without a soft kiss to your temple. He walked away immediately, inhaling as he started to draw a bath for you after cleaning himself up. After walking out, he smiled when he saw you already curled up against his pillow, eyes opening and closing before he came behind you.

Your eyes snapped open as you giggled, reaching back to hold his hand and gasping as he started to push into you again. "You really know the meaning of a spree, don't you?"

"I just... I can't explain it. I love fucking you so much, I feel like I can't stop," he whispers, holding back tears as you softly stroked your cheek. He couldn't think about anything else other than fucking you anymore. "Fuck, it's bad."

"It can be," you whisper back, squeezing his wrist. "But not for us. I know... I know it's a lot, but I'll help you. I swear."

"Thank you, baby," Dave whispers, pressing soft kisses to your neck. "You wanna take a bath?"

You giggled. "Desperately so."

Your giggle makes him smile. "Then it's good that I drew you a bath with your favorite scent. Come on."

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

#asterias-record-shop #kick-ass #kick ass #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x fem! reader #dave lizewski x fem! reader smut

2K notes · View notes

xavslilslut · 1 year

Text

His little girl. || Xavier thorpe x reader

Warnings , size kink, P in V, unprotected sex, cussing, readers a vampire .

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reader and Xavier are dating, but reader has a kink her boyfriend isn't aware of..

You where Xavier thorpes girlfriend, also a vampire. You where known at nevermore because you where a special type of a vampire, not like the normal ones. Your venom, is poisonous and like a drug, you can control if you poison someone with your bite, thats what makes you special. Also the fact that you age like a human but you can never die, unless someone stabs you with a stake to your heart.

On your first day of nevermore when your dormmate, enid, was showing you around your eyes couldn't help but wonder on a certain someone, a tall, skinny, pale boy with long hair was on a latter painting, as you where looking at him he looked back and you quickly looked away. Later that day when you walked into Ms. Thornhills class, you saw him again smiling at you, you sat next to him and you guys became friends. Well, best friends, then you two started dating. He was head over heels in love for you, you felt the same, there where so many things about him that made your heart flutter, but one thing stood out, your height difference.

Your boyfriend was 6'2, you where 5'0. So that means that he's a whole foot and 2 inches taller than you, something about the way he looks down at you, the way he has to bend over to kiss you or to hear you or to tell you something, the way he's so much bigger and stronger than you, the way his hands are way bigger than yours, just everything makes you so crazy, absolutely crazy. And he feels the same way, he loves how much smaller you are compared to him.

You love the way his hands can cover your boobs when he grabs them, just like what hes doing right now as he's pounding into you, fast and hard, while your a moaning mess under him, legs shaking and your hands hold his arms. "mmmm, fuck xavi, m'fuck me so good!" You say, completely cock drunk. Xavier just looks down at you and gives you smile at how much he's fucked you dumb, "I know baby I know." He coos, you whine and bit your lip as you take one of your small hands of his arm and slide it down towards his chest, then to his slightly seen abs, you run your tiny fingers over his abs then bring them back to where they originally were on his arm.

You clench around him thinking about how small you are compared to him again, he let's out a low groan and a small 'fuck' as he feels you clench your already tight pussy around his cock. "mmm fuck xavi, pl-please use me, de-s-story me plea- fuck!" You try to say while he continues ramming into you, not stopping. He seems shocked by your words because you've never said anything like that, but just thinking about how you are so small compared just makes you go crazy, so crazy.

He doesn't question it though and instead just keeps fucking you at a inhumane paste, to the point where your literally screaming. All that can be heard from his dorm is skin clapping, moans, and low groans. You start to feel your release coming quickly as he brings one of his big hands down to start rubbing circles on your red swollen clit, making your stutter and your mouth to make an 'O' shape while letting out a long loud moan. "mmhhhh, fu-fuck xavi m'gonna cum!!"you moan stuttering due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"fuck, cum all over this dick baby" you hear Xavier say in a low raspy voice, his thrusts start getting sloppier and he starts moaning a lot more, with hearing his words you start to cum all over his cock, letting out loud pornographic moans, clenching around him. He reaches his release not to far after you, slowing pulling out and laying down next to you and pulling you into his chest to cuddle.

"What was that about you wanting me to use to you?" Xavier says while giving your head a kiss. "mm nothing." You say drifting off into your sleep already knowing he knew what you meant by that.

#xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe smut #percy hynes white

2K notes · View notes

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 3 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 88

Part 1 Part 87

There’s something here with him. In the dark. In the cold. It sends him reeling back. Nothing else has ever been here. It has always just been dark.

But now, there’s something else. Someone else. She’s small with chubby cheeks, hair a curly puffball atop her head. Her eyes are wide as she looks down at him, solemn and sad.

“Steve?” she asks, and it’s the voice that does it.

It rings through his ears like a worm, wiggling into his brain, carving out the shape of the girl and her big, sad eyes.

“I know you.”

The girl nods. She takes a step closer, settling down crisscross, close enough that her knees knock into his. They’re sharp and bony and warm.

“I found you,” she says, quietly. “Before.”

Steve stares at her, tries to remember a time when she’d come, when she’d found him. It’s always been empty here. And yet, he knows her.

“Your friends, they are coming.” The words echo strangely, like she’s saying them one overtop another with two identical sets of vocal cords. It rings through him, until he’s somewhere else.

He’s in a small place, sleeves and coats hanging down around him, as he hides from the thing trying to kill him. He’s always hiding, and something’s always trying to kill him.

The girl’s looking down at him with those same sad eyes, hair shorn to her head, telling him to hold on, that his friends are coming. His friends are coming? His friends –

“Eddie and Will?” Steve asks, breathless.

She nods, curls bobbing. He’s still in the closet.

His life is filled with closets and the subsequent need to crawl out of them.

He wonders if he’ll be able to get out of this one.

Even as he looks the girl in her eyes, he can feel himself slipping into the shadows. He reaches out to her. She reaches back, letting him clasp her hand. It’s warm and soft and real.

“You’re real?”

She nods, not blinking at all as she stares into his eyes. “I am Eleven.” When Steve continues to look confused, the ghost of a smile paints itself across her face. “Eddie calls me Supergirl.”

She draws out each syllable, like the words don’t make sense to her, but she likes them anyway. Steve likes them, too. All of Eddie’s snide little comments about some girl with superpowers stack atop of each other until they form the image of the girl in front of him. Eleven.

“Hi, Supergirl.” He’s choking with fondness, for Eddie, for this girl, for the life he wants to get back to. The words are garbled, but Eleven smiles anyway.

“Hi,” she says, smiling for a second more before her mouth smooths out and she looks serious again. “How do we help you?”

She squeezes his hand, warm and soft, repeating it like a pulse. He can feel it traveling through his bloodstream, heating him up.

He doesn’t think about what he’s going to say, he just says it. “He likes the cold.” Eleven’s frowning, perplexed. “I don’t.” He looks away from her confused face, down to her warm hand. “You’re warm.”

Eleven lets the silence linger for a moment, creeping into the cracks in Steve’s words to pick them apart. “Make you warm?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just squeezes her hand, reaching out to cup her hand between both of his own, and maybe that’s answer enough.

“Will that stop him?” she asks, over-enunciating the word “him” like it’s not the one she wants but it’s the one she has.

Steve thinks about the bits of himself he picks up when Eleven holds his hand, when Eddie cups his cheeks, and Will snuggles into his side. He wants to follow them home, like Hansel and Gretel and their stupid breadcrumbs.

He wants to pull on the tie that binds, and let it lead him back home, to a warm trailer in the middle of winter, Wayne in his armchair watching a spaghetti western that Eddie takes every chance to scoff at.

He wants to sit at Ms. Byers breakfast table, Jonathan popping pieces of toast out of the toaster and buttering them warm. Wants Barbara’s patient tutelage, and Dustin’s enthusiastic hugs, and even Carol’s impatient huffing.

But even as he thinks it, the names flit out of his brain, and he’s left grasping. Breadcrumb trail scatters by the force of the cold wind, cold leaching from brittle bones.

Will it be enough?

“I don’t know.”

He looks up, meeting Eleven’s eyes, cupping her hands fiercely as his fingers start to phase through his own.

“I will save you,” she says.

Steve smiles, involuntary and warm. “You guys always do, no matter what I say.” He moves his hand from beneath hers, tries to cup her face, hold her there a moment longer, but it sinks right through. “Stay safe, okay?”

She opens her mouth, moves it like she’s saying words he can’t quite hear. Something warm and salty drips down from his eyes as she disappears from this place.

Steve shuffles back, lets himself settle into the comfort of his childhood closet.

Eleven’s gone, but Steve swears he can still feel the warmth of her cheek on the tips of his fingers, Will’s warmth curled into his side, Eddie’s calf overlapping his on the other. He doesn’t turn to look. He’s going to hold onto this moment with both hands and hope the memory of his warmth is enough to keep him here.

He can feel pulling sometimes, from the Right-Side up, like Will and Eddie can’t help themselves. Steve wants to loop the connection around himself, tie him up so tightly that he’ll never be free.

He’s like a recalcitrant dog, begging to be leashed.

But the collar’s getting too loose, the leash to frayed. Steve bites down into it and holds onto it with all that’s left of him, hoping it’s enough.

Enough to keep the shadows at bay until they come for him, the way they always do.

Steve will wait.

Part 89

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

#steddie #steve harrington #fanfic #steddie upsidedown au #eddie munson #will byers

162 notes · View notes

hawkinsbnbg · 2 days

Text

Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.

The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.

No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.

Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.

They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.

Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.

Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.

They all saw him.

A thing that Steve would never take for granted.

Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.

"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.

"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"

"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.

"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.

"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.

"Hey!"

"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.

Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.

Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.

"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.

"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.

"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.

Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."

She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.

It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.

As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.

"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"

"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.

"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"

"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."

"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.

When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.

"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.

Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.

"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.

By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.

As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.

He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.

But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.

As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.

And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.

He had bumped right into someone.

He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.

Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.

Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.

"Harrington?"

Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.

"Munson."

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stobin #pre steddie #platonic soulmates stobin #soulmates steddie #soulmates whoes souls are connected so even death can’t do them apart #sionewrites #might have a part 2 if reactions are good #sorry it's not even halloween and i posted this lmao

144 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

Note

Ahoy!Hoy! How are you today, Ms Raven? I hope you're well and all is well.

Out of curiosity, Which of the twst boys have their unique magic and what/ how do their unique magic work?

The UM names, chants, effects, and restrictions we know of so far are below the cut. Please note: JP uses the term “unique magic” and EN uses the term “signature spell”; I will be using the abbreviation “UM” throughout this post to refer to it. Note that some incantations are taken directly from the official localization; others come from fan translations that I happen to like or prefer over the official ones, which I will indicate with "***".

Please also know that we don’t know the same amount of information about each UM nor their effects or limitations. I’ve done my best to compile what information we do know for certain though. I’ll update this post as more information comes out!!

***Beware of spoilers, as this post has information from TWST JP!!***

Riddle

"Off With Your Head" collars a target and seals their magic away, preventing them from spellcasting.

The collar cannot be removed by any means unless Riddle himself chooses to do so.

“Are you ready for your sentence? The verdict comes afterwards. Any last words? Off With Your Head!” (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: prologue-3 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Heartslabyul manga chapter 1

Trey

In JP, Trey’s UM is called “Doodle Suit”. In EN, it’s called “Paint the Roses”, which likely derives from how the UM is written literally as “(Let’s) Paint the Roses”.

His UM allows Trey to temporarily override or “paint over” a targeted aspect of something or someone else, usually the senses. For example, he can rewrite taste as well as rewrite “other people’s magic” as “his magic”.

***"White to red, and red to white. Paint the Roses/Doodle Suit!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 1-14 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Twisted Wonderland Novelization Volume 1

Cater

Cater’s UM is “Split Card”, which allows him to create clones of himself. The clones can act independently, but the more clones Cater creates at once, the more strain is placed on him.

In the manga, the clones are shown to revert to playing cards when they’re no longer needed or damaged.

“I am he and we are they. Split Card!” (TWST Episode of Heartslabyul manga official localization)

"I’m him and he’s them! Split Card!!” (TWST EN official localization)

***"I am he, and he is me. Split Card!"*** (by the Turtle Soup Scans team)

First use of UM: prologue-3 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Heartslabyul manga chapter 7 and/or P.E. Uniform vignette

Ace

No information available yet other than we know he’s shocked that Deuce manifested his UM before he did.

Deuce

His UM first manifests in book 5; in JP, it goes by the name “Bet the Limit”, whereas in EN, it’s “Double Down”, both of which are betting terms.

Bet the Limit allows the caster, Deuce, to send back all the damage he has taken at double the power.

"It's payback time! Get a load of this! Bet the Limit/Double Down!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“I’ll make you pay for that! Grit your teeth and take it! Bet the Limit!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; some creative liberties taken)

When Azul uses Deuce's UM in Glorious Masquerade, the chant is: "... It's time to pay up! You're in for a world of hurt! Double Down!" (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 5-45 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 5-64 of the main story

Leona

“King’s Roar” turns anything Leona commands into sand. It also seems to induce a dry environment. The UM is called “The King’s Roar” in EN.

According to in-game dialogue, anything Leona touches after casting King's Roar turns to sand. Due to the limitations of the visual novel style of the game, it's unclear whether or not Leona's spell requires physically touching something. If we reference other official materials (such as the animated trailer), it doesn't look to be a hard requirement. I'll be keeping up with the light novel and manga adaptations of book 2 to see how King's Roar is represented, then update as needed.

Leona's UM has the capability to kill (since it has an effect on even living beings); this terrible power is part of the reason why he was gossiped about and feared by the palace servants (seen in his post-OB flashback).

"I am the one who hungers. I am the one who thirsts. I am the one that robs you of your future. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“I am your hunger. I am your thirst. I am what steals the light of your tomorrows. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!”*** (by twstarchives!)

First use of UM: 2-25 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Leona Dorm Uniform vignettes (part 3)

Ruggie

“Laugh with Me” lets Ruggie control the movements of other people by forcing them to copy his own body.

The more people he's controlling, the more difficult it is for him. (It's possible to take magic-enhancing potions to increase the number of people he can control at once, seemingly without negative detriment.)

***"Both kings and hyenas are my friends! Laugh with Me!"*** (by MysteryShopTLs!)

First use of UM: 2-2 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Savanaclaw manga volume 2 (I think chapter 7)

Jack

"Unleash Beast" gives Jack the power to turn into a large, powerful wolf form without the help of a transformation potion or other outside means. In EN, it has become "Unleash the Beast" to comply with English grammatical rules.

In his wolf form, Jack has heightened strength, speed, etc.

Jack had to train himself to be able to stay in his wolf form for long periods of time.

First use of UM: 2-25 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Azul

"It's a Deal" grants Azul the ability to confiscate an agreed-upon ability or spell of his client; Azul is then able to use these abilities or spells for himself.

If the client is not able to fulfill their end of the contract or breaches its terms, the client is forced to comply with Azul's every command (via the anemone they'd sprout on their head).

The agreement is valid as long as the golden contract which seals the agreement is left intact; however, the contracts are fragile like real paper. For this reason, Azul electrifies them with magic in order to create the false impression that the contracts are indestructible.

Azul is also able to take abilities without consent or without a contract. This method causes much more rapid blot accumulation, as normally the contracts help limit this.

He indicates that he "worked on" his UM, whatever the heck that means. It implies he trained or practiced using it to get better st it or to better understand its limits.

"The song ceases, the sun sets. I extend my benevolent hand to you poor, unfortunate souls. Now, to business! It's a Deal!" (TWST EN official localization)

***"The song ends, the sun sets. Extend mercy upon these poor, unfortunate souls. Now, sign the contract! It’s a Deal!"*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; some creative liberties taken)

First use of UM: book 3 of the main story, but he's been using it long before NRC

First instance of incantation: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

Jade

“Shock the Heart” forces a target to speak only the truth. It requires the target to look into Jade’s left eye in order to work.

This UM can only be used once per person and fails if casted on someone who is very alert, cautious, or are already aware of its effect. This is why Jade intentionally keeps his UM secret.

Shock the Heart is not all-powerful or absolute; in cases of strong loyalty, a target may not divulge the truths Jade wants to hear. For example, Kalim, who was very easy to initially trick, trusts Jamil so deeply that he resists Jade’s demands to tell him who in Scarabia has a mind-controlling UM.

"Don’t be afraid. I want to help you. Shock the Heart." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 3-1 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 4-25 of the main story

Floyd

“Bind the Heart” allows Floyd to redirect magical attacks, thereby rendering him unaffected by them.

His UM is highly dependent on his mood; if Floyd isn’t feeling up to it, then the spell won’t work.

First use of UM: 3-18 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Kalim

“Oasis Maker” summons a large amount of (fresh, not salt) water in exchange for only a (relatively) small amount of magical power.

Any additional effects of the water (if any) are not specifically stated; other characters just remark that the water is tasty and at a nice temperature.

Kalim says he doesn’t think his UM is all that useful, especially since the development of waterways in his home country has made it much easier to access potable water.

"Respite in the scalding sands, a neverending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!" (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 4-14 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 4-14 of the main story

Jamil

His UM is known as “Snake Whisper” in JP and “Snake Charmer” in English (which is likely taken from the way “Snake Whisper” is literally written as “Snake Charmer” in the original JP).

This spell lets Jamil hypnotize people and make them follow his commands. His targets must make eye contact for him in order for Snake Whisper to work.

The more a target resists Jamil’s UM, the more target will hurt until they finally succumb to the spell.

Long-term use and/or controlling multiple people at once can cause more rapid blot accumulation.

"The one you behold is your master. When I ask you a question, you will answer. When I give you a command, you will assent. Snake Whisper." (TWST EN official localization)

***"The one you see reflected in your eyes is your master. Answer when I ask. Bow when I command. Snake Whisper."*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: book 4-6 of the main story, but Jamil has been mind-controlling Kalim before this instance

First instance of incantation: 4-30 of the main story

Vil

"Fairest One of All" lets Vil curse any item he touches and to set the conditions to break that curse. These conditions are immovable and, once set, not even Vil can lift the curse.

"I lose naught and fear naught. This shining crown was made for me. Fairest One of All." (Note: Vil denotes the conditions for the curse after the chant.) (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 5-32 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 6-55 of the main story

Rook

In EN, Rook's UM is "Arrow Afar". The original name for JP is "I See You". This is a small, slight (and therefore hard to notice or gauge as dangerous) spell that is cast upon targets. He can then pinpoint their exact location, regardless of distance.

If the tagged item or person has entered a zone which blocks off magic, then Rook cannot track their location.

"Come, see if you can flee from me. I See You/Arrow Afar." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-25 of the main story (for tracking); the tagging is actually done earlier in the book

First instance of incantation: 6-25 of the main story

Epel

In JP, Epel's UM is "Sleep Kiss". In EN, it was changed to "Crimson Slumber". This lets Epel conjure enchanted glass coffins to contain people. Once inside, his targets fall into a deep sleep.

The coffins can be powerful barriers to protect others.

Epel manifests his UM in book 6; Rook helps guide him in using it.

"Your eyes will close, your breath will still. Sleep Kiss/Crimson Slumber." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-58 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 6-58 of the main story

Idia

"Gate to Underworld" allows Idia to open and close the gateway to the "Underworld"/Tartarus which is house in STYX HQ. It is written in EN as "Gate to the Underworld". The Underworld holds many dangerous Phantoms which the facility researches.

It is implied that Idia’s UM is hereditary to the Shroud family.

"Game, set, match. Gate to (the) Underworld." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-68 of the main story, though technically Idia may have used it in 6-54 to let OG!Ortho out of Tartarus (we don’t get to see it explicitly being used).

First instance of incantation: 6-68 of the main story

Ortho

No information available yet; Ortho has stated that he cannot use magic, so it’s unlikely that he can have a UM at all.

UPDATE: Ortho confirms in book 7 he does not have a UM and cannot develop one. However, what makes him "unique" is his robotic nature; he is able to transfer his consciousness to new vessels.

Malleus

“Fae of Maleficence” summons thorns which causes all living beings in its area of effect to fall into a deep slumber. (Ortho speculates that people, if left in this state, will have their bodies deteriorate.) In EN, the name was changed to “Fae Maleficence”.

Malleus's UM also creates thorns which allow him absolute control of whatever is contained inside of the space the thorns preoccupy. This includes stopping time within the area. Previously, Malleus was also seen stopping time in the event Endless Halloween Night. However, it's not known whether this occurred because of his UM or not.

It is possible for Malleus to manipulate the sleepers’ dreams and to glimpse into them.

The dreams can run by themselves, pulling reference information from each individual dreamer's memories and desires. If the dreamer tries to wake up, the dream will do everything in its power to keep the dreamer asleep.

It may be difficult for Malleus to enter one’s dream if the dream takes place in a period where he does not exist (such as not yet being born out of his egg) or if he does not understand certain concepts (like technology). This is because magic requires imagination, and it is hard for Malleus to imagine particular scenarios.

"Spinning wheel of fate, spin the threads of calamity. I, the Lord of Malevolence, offer this blessing. Fae Maleficence." (TWST EN official localization)

***“Spin the thread of disaster on the spinning wheel of Fate. For I, the Ruler of the Abyss, shall bestow it (a blessing) upon you. Fae of Maleficence.”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; creative liberties taken)

First use of UM: 7-37 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-37 of the main story

Lilia

"Far Cry Cradle" allows Lilia to view the memories associated with an object by touching it.

***"As if it were a day. Everywhere I go, it will be in a blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle."*** (by Yaoyaobae)

First use of UM: 7-81 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-81 of the main story

Silver

Bear with me, Silver's UM has like a million and one parts to it...

"Meet in a Dream" essentially allows Silver to hop between peoples’ dream worlds. It can only be used when he himself is asleep and when he is aware he is dreaming.

“Dreamways” are transitional places between dreams. These dreamways look like a softly colored sky with birds flying through them.

Silver cannot control whose dream he goes to, although he has noted that it tends to be people whom he has a strong bond with, such as Lilia or Sebek. It's not clear how he is able to walk in Mickey's dream, as Silver doesn't seem to be familiar with him.

The dreamer is indicated by a shining white bird that flies around them. Silver must stay close to the dreamer or else he will risk falling deeper into sleep.

He can only leave the dream when the dreamer wakes up (thus dissolving the dream world) or if he uses his UM to hop into another dream.

The dreamer can be woken by a large shock, whether physical or emotional.

"Those I've met and will someday... Meet in a Dream." (TWST EN official localization)

***"To the one I’ve met before, to the one I’ve yet to meet. Meet in a Dream."*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 7-43 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-43 of the main story

Sebek

"Living Bolt" turns Sebek’s entire body into lightning. He can use that magic to attack and to travel very quickly.

However, the spell will damage his body with use.

Sebek reports developing this UM when Silver enrolled at NRC and when Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus’s side at a moment’s notice

Sebek says this is the first time he's using his UM and that he hasn't fully mastered it yet. He had not intended to use it until he has mastered it.

***"Thrust through the clouds, o' lightning! Living Bolt!"*** (by curekibouka!)

First use of UM: 7-84 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-84 of the main story

Che’nya

Che’nya’s UM allows him to turn himself (whether in whole or in parts) invisible.

We don’t yet know the name of the UM or the incantation for it.

Che’nya appears to mainly utilize his UM to sneak onto NRC campus and to steal food.

First use of UM: 1-18 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Rollo

“Dark Fire” envelops Rollo’s entire body in fire. He can manipulate this fire as he likes, and the flames grow more powerful the more negative feelings there are present.

"Crimson lotus flames, burn my body and guide me. Darkfire!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“O, crimson lotus flower… Scorch my soul and guide me. Dark Fire!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

First instance of incantation: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

Fellow

“Life is Fun” makes a target more optimistic and happy. They are then more susceptible to being manipulated by Fellow.

This UM is notable as the only one so far with an incantation spoken in English instead of in Japanese.

The spell has no effect on people who are already very optimistic like Kalim. It also doesn’t work if Fellow tries convincing the target to do something they would never considering doing “from the bottom of their heart”.

The spell doesn’t work on heavily guarded people or people that recently underwent a traumatic event.

Life is Fun doesn’t cost a lot of magic, so it is difficult to detect. It can be used multiple times, the effect “stacking” without risk of Overblot.

***”Come on to the theatre! Life is Fun!”*** (by curekibouka!)

First use of UM: 5-6 of Stage in Playful Land, but technically we’ve been seeing him cast it as early as chapter 1 of the event

First instance of incantation: 5-6 of Stage in Playful Land

199 notes · View notes

photo1030 · 7 days

Text

Leather and Lace - Chapter 22: To Pick a Lock

Summary: The gang discovers a one of your "talents" and puts it to good use.

*This amazing images comes from one of my faves, @papaue00

*Thank you to @readingcoco for beta reading for me! You are amazing!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter - TBD, but there are a handful of future chapters that were posted ahead of time

“Explain to me how this happens.”

You stand in front of Arthur, arms extended out as far from your body as possible as you shake out a mud-crusted shirt of his, cautiously squinting as bits of dirt fly through the air in front of your wrinkled-up nose. “Do you literally lay down and roll in mud to get your clothes this dirty?”

“Sometimes,” the man in question shrugs. “Other times we draw straws to see who stands in the middle while the other fellers throw dirt at him.” He snickers as he makes a whipping motion with his arm.

All you can do is give him an exasperated look as your arms drop down in defeat in front of you.

“See, when you say dumb things like that, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Arthur playfully shakes his eyebrows at you as his arm shoots out, snaking around your waist to quickly pin you to his chest, causing you to giggle and squirm as he plants a few teasing kisses along the side of your neck. Standing a few feet away, Abigail can only shake her head at your flirtatious nonsense.

It’s a brisk fall afternoon, and the sun hangs in the sky like a dollop of golden yellow paint dropped on a canvas of grays and purples. Arthur is helping you with laundry. He’s bored and hovering over you as a means of distracting himself, wanting nothing more than to take you back to your shared tent for something more stimulating. But Ms. Grimshaw is keeping a keen eye on you to make sure you get your chores done.

With the year well into the fall now, daylight is limited as is the time available to get things done along with it. So rather than dragging you off, Arthur figures it would be best to help out in order to get your work done faster. And by “help”, he means carrying the baskets for you and keeping you company while you wash and hang alongside Abigail. You don’t mind, really. Arthur doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as he’d like and rarely does he ever have “nothing to do”. So you will accept his company in any manner you can get it.

The sound of thunderous hoofbeats echoes into the new camp, causing your small group to lift their collective heads towards the path. A few of the men had gone out earlier this morning and it appears the commotion is a sign of their imminent arrival. Excitable voices carry through the air, wound up and hollering about something. It doesn’t take long before you eventually hear a loud metallic banging sound, coupled with shouts of frustration.

“What in god's name is all the noise?” huffs Abigail, craning her neck in the direction of the racket to try and see through the maze of tents and wagons.

“Who knows.” You toss the newly folded shirt in your hands into the basket at Arthur’s feet with a sigh. “But we should probably look into it before someone ends up losing an eye or a finger,” you snort back with a lofty eye-roll.

Arthur can only chuckle as he follows after you like a puppy as you head over to investigate. It warms his heart how you’ve taken to looking after everyone in the several months that you’ve been with the gang, becoming more and more like Grimshaw everyday—in a good way, of course.

You, Abigail, and Arthur amble into the common area, and see Bill, Javier and Micah standing over a table, their attention acutely focused on something set upon its surface, as the rest of the gang jostle to make room for Dutch.

As you get closer and peer around Bill’s massive trunk of a torso, you realize that the boys have come back to camp with an ornate travel chest. A pounding noise ricochets within your skull, grating against your nerves as Bill beats the lock with a rock in a hopeless attempt to get it open.

“What’d you all find out there?” questions Arthur, striking a match across the tabletop and lighting the cigarette that precariously hangs from his plump lips. You and Arthur exchange a cynical glance before he curiously eyes the chest then looks to Javier for more details.

“Found ourselves a fancy box!” quips Javier, his nimble fingers coming up to rub his chin as he watches Bill intently. “And where there’s a fancy box-”

“-There’s even fancier things inside,” finishes Micah with a smirk, his hands twitching by his gun belt as he too anxiously awaits the trunk’s unveiling.

You try not to chortle as you watch Arthur roll his eyes with trademark skepticism, thumbs coming to rest in his gunbelt as he shifts his weight from hip to hip.

“So why ya beatin’ the damn thing?” Arthur’s head cocks to the side, amused as he watches Bill get more and more frustrated by the second, his face turning red and flustered with each striking blow. You defensively step back from Bill, holding your hands up in front of you to make sure you don't get caught in the swing of his burly arm.

“Tryin’ to get this damn thing open, Morgan!” grunts Bill. “We were in town and saw this rich-looking coach unattended. Seemed like their own fault, so we started digging around inside and found it. Didn’t have time to crack the thing open so we just grabbed it and took off before anyone noticed.”

“Stop banging away at it!” you scold, grabbing Bill’s beefy forearm before he can make another strike. “See that gold leafing along the surface? This is an expensive piece.” You loosen your grip to run your fingertips along the gilding, tracing the fine craftwork with a feather-light touch. “You can sell this trunk alone for $30 to the fence.”

Bill halts immediately, a bit shocked when he feels your soft hand on him. But he’s also now stumped at how to proceed in opening the chest and looking to you for the answer. Poor Bill, always in a battle between brains and brawn, and unfortunately for him there is only ever going to be one winner.

A motherly sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head sweetly at Bill. “As usual, all this needs is a little ‘woman’s finesse’,” you purr sweetly. You reach over to Abigail and pluck a hairpin out from her bun, setting yourself down at the table with the box laid out in front of you. The crowd watches silently as your hands rest upon the chest, and you start to wiggle the pin around inside the lock. Within a minute, the lock pops open with a simple and gracefully little clicking sound.

“There, now. All yours.” You turn the box towards the group of waiting men, with a satisfied smile on your face. They all look at you, stunned as to what just happened, but then quickly begin to dig into the mysterious case. And they are not disappointed. Inside they find cash, jewelry, bonds and other precious mementos belonging to the previous owner. You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand, watching as they excitedly pull items out to admire.

Bill plucks something out of the box and hands it to you. “Here you go, Y/N. There’s your cut.”

Accepting the glittering item from his meaty bear-paw, you roll it in your hand, instantly realizing it’s a broach. He gives you an earnest smile, proud of himself for landing such a score. Bill is always such a beast of a man, not graceful in the slightest. But he does always try to be gentle around you, at least.

“Why, thank you, Sir,” you grin in return, admiring the beautiful jade-green stone that nests in a filigree of polished silver.

“Where did you learn how to do that, Y/N?” asks Abigail as she, too, begins to curiously finger through the jewelry inside.

“I have friends who taught me when I was in Rosewood.”

“How do you have friends that know how to pick locks?” asks Javier incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, before meeting us, that is.” He gives you his suave smile and a wink.

A demure little grin pops across your face, relishing the idea that you can still surprise these people, even after all these months. Your chin coquettishly dips to your shoulder.

“Never you mind, Javier. A woman needs a little mystery.”

“Wait a minute, you never said you knew how to pick a lock!” Arthur turns his attention from the stack of cash in front of him to face you now, fully realizing what you’ve just said.

“You never asked,” you reply plainly with a simple shrug.

Micah lets out a patronizing little huff. “Maybe you should be doing a little more talking at night in your tent, cowpoke,” teases Micah.

“Maybe you shouldn’t concern yourself with what’s happening in my tent at night,” Arthur shoots back with a glare.

“Hold on,” Dutch interjects with annoyance, his hands raised in the air to silence everyone as he acutely directs his attention towards you. “Are you saying you can do this with any lock?”

You shrug again. “I don’t know if I’d say any lock,” your voice somewhat uncertain under Dutch’s intense gaze, ”but probably.”

“Why the hell am I just hearing this now?!” Dutch huffs, planting his hands onto his hips. But before you can answer him, you see an idea forming in that deceptive mind of his, coiling like fog creeping through the valley in the morning. “Ho, ho, have I got an idea, gentleman,” he smirks, tapping his ringed finger against his mustached lips.

“There’s a bank over in Red Rock that I’ve been eyein’. But I’m told it's next to the law office— strategically placed there to ward off robberies. Any attempt on it would have to be quiet. No shooting, no explosions of any kind.” Dutch shakes his finger at you. “If we can get her in there, into that vault-”

“Now, hold on a minute, Dutch. Y/N ain’t ready for anything like that,” Arthur cuts in, his hand waving firmly against the very idea of it. You watch his handsome face immediately turning into a deep, disapproving scowl.

“Well, she’s gonna have to be ready sometime,” argues Dutch. “I ain’t about to let a resource like her go to waste.” He counters as he waves his hand in your direction. “Besides, you’ll be there, too Arthur, and we all know you ain’t gonna let anything happen to her”.

Dutch is right about that. Arthur would sooner take a bullet himself than put you in harm’s way. But still, the very idea of you being in danger sets his stomach turning. It’s the thing that he’s dreaded the most ever since you met, let alone started your relationship. He can’t fathom intentionally endangering you, yet he doesn’t want to disobey Dutch, either. The conflict is apparent on Arthur’s chiseled face as his eyes skip to the treeline, trying to find a suitable excuse to get you out of it. But all Dutch needs to do is shoot Arthur that glare to put him back in his place.

When satisfied that Arthur’s silence means that he has succumbed to his will yet again, Dutch turns back to you. “You continue to amaze me, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice floats with that smooth, silky tone he uses when he needs to seduce people into doing his bidding, even against their better judgment. Like a snake that lures its prey, the man can be almost hypnotic when he needs to be. But you’ve never felt directly threatened by Dutch…until now.

A slight chill dances up your spine as you stare at him with your large doe-eyes, an animal trapped by a hunter. And all you can do is sit there mutely as they all begin to discuss how to best use your newly-discovered “talent”.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The crisp autumn breeze caresses your face, lifting the rogue strands of hair from your cold cheeks as you find yourself standing on the edge of the street. Across the way is the large green building that will be your target. It is adorned with black window-shutters and trim and looms ominously over you. A large sign hangs above the entry doors: Red Rock Savings and Loan. The letters leer at you in an almost mocking and intimidating way. You try in vain to swallow, your mouth dry as the desert. Fingers betray a slight shake as you fidget with your hair and nervously smooth out the skirt of your emerald green dress for the third time in the last five minutes.

You are going to be on your own for the first part of Dutch’s plan. You take a deep breath, slowly letting it out through trembling lips in an attempt to quell the butterflies in your stomach, going over the scheme one last time in your head. Your palms are sweaty, even in the chill air, and you continually wipe them along your hips, before absentmindedly playing with your hair yet again.

And then it dawns on you: you are not sure if you can do this. What if Arthur is right and you really aren’t ready? You’ve never done anything like this before in your life. You’ve listened to the wild escapades of your fellow gang members but have never actively participated yourself. The most you’ve ever done is act as a decoy, never actually getting your own hands dirty. This will be your first act at truly committing a crime.

What if something goes wrong? Will you have the where-with-all to know what to do? Could you ever defend yourself if something needed to be done? Arthur and the others will be there to protect you, but what if you are a liability to them? What if they need you to help them? You know how to shoot a gun, as you’ve hunted with Arthur and Charles plenty of times. But to point a gun at a person, to look them in the eye as you pull the trigger, that is something else entirely. If the nightmares and restless nights that Arthur has, ones that he pretends don’t happen, are any indication, the weight of taking someone else’s life leaves a heavy burden on one’s soul. Are you ready for that?

But as you stand there in the street, you eventually force yourself to steel your nerves with a slow deep breath. Closing your eyes, focusing on how your heart beats in your chest, the monotonous thumping echoes in your ears. You are part of the notorious Van Der Linde gang, you tell yourself. You are Arthur Morgan’s woman. And it is about damn time that you act like it.

Your life before joining the gang, before meeting Arthur, had always been at the mercy of others, being subservient to the demands of men and your class. You have always done what was right and proper, falling in line with other people’s expectations and look where it got you: family name in tatters, your father gone, assaulted by the men who killed him, and left destitute by the high society that had pretended to care.

But you are past that now. No need to hide in the shadows, no need to take anyone’s bullshit anymore. If joining Dutch Van Der Linde’s gang has taught you anything, it’s that. Running with a gang allows you to be free to do as you please and you do not have to answer to anyone.

You need to pull from the strength of your new family, as they are counting on you. Arthur is counting on you. No turning back now. And with a grin of determination on your lips, you lift your chin, shaking off the last bit of nervous energy, and get into character to boldly stride over to the bank.

You pull open the heavy wooden door, gliding confidently through the opening. Remembering all of Hosea’s training, your sparkling eyes take-in the scene as you stand at the threshold: Large room, main exit behind you, hallway towards the back that must lead to the vault and safes. You can’t tell if there is a second exit or not. (Arthur says ‘Always gotta know how you can get in and get out.’) Three tellers to your right, a ring of desks with other bank personnel to your left. All in all, with customers, you have twelve people to account for.

The bank lobby is fairly large to accommodate a town of this size. You look up to see the clock about to strike 4:00 in the afternoon, a time strategically picked so that there is money in the vault from a full day’s transactions, and close enough to the encroaching nightfall to cover the escape that will eventually come.

You stride over to the first available teller who comfortably sits behind the counter, your heels confidently clicking on the floorboards as you move.The squat, bespectacled man looks up from his newspaper as you approach his counter.

“How may I help you today, Miss?” He is a mousey little man, very bookish and unassuming in his worn tan suit. His hazel eyes are made to appear larger by the bottle lenses of his glasses as he blinks expectantly at you.

“I would like to talk to someone about opening an account here,” you inform him in your most authoritative tone. “My husband and I recently arrived in this area and are in need of getting our affairs in order.”

He looks past you into the lobby. “And where is your husband? Will we be waiting for him to assist you?” he asks.

A slow, deliberate inhale gets pulled through your nose in aggravation. You bite your tongue and give a forced smile. “Sir, I will have you know that I do not need my husband with me to handle our finances. I know quite well how to manage our money, as we have quite a bit of it thanks to me.”

The teller shrinks back a bit at your angry, snapping comments which are now causing a bit of a scene amongst the small crowd within the lobby.

“My husband is occupied elsewhere, making arrangements to have our cattle moved to our new ranch and does not have time for such things,” you continue. “He handles the labor, I handle the business. But, if you do not want to help me, simply because I am a woman, then I can certainly take my business and my money elsewhere.” Your eyes burn into the teller, making his insides cringe.

“Excuse me.” You hear a nervous throat clearing as a man in a tailored black suit interrupts the conversation and steps up beside you at the counter. “I couldn’t help but overhear the commotion. By all means, we will be more than happy to assist you with your money, Madame.” He sweeps his arm out towards one of the desks on the other side of the room and encourages you to follow him to sit. “Mr. Ferris,” he hisses back at the teller. “Stop badgering the customers! If the lady wants to open an account to secure her money here, then by all means, let’s assist her.”

The poor teller’s eyes shoot open. “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss, I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stammers, adjusting his thick glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry if I offended you. It’s just-”

“It’s just that you don’t see many women with such influence, I assume. Well, Mr. Ferris, you’d be surprised at what a woman can do.” And with an indignant flourish of your skirt, you spin on your heels to follow the other banker as he pulls out a chair for you to sit at his desk. Once he is sure you are comfortably seated, the banker fixes his tie and smooths his hand over his hair before taking a seat across from you.

“I apologize, Mrs…” he leans towards you, eyebrows raised expectantly for the proper introduction.

“Callahan. Mrs. Callahan,” you reply with yet another forced smile.

��Ah, yes. Mrs. Callahan,” the banker confirms the name to himself, trying to work out if he recognizes it from affluent society circles. “So,” he clears his throat, “you need to set up an account with our bank, is that what I am understanding?”

“Yes, that’s right.” And you proceed to spin your web of lies about how you and your cattleman husband have traveled across the state to find a new ranch for your burgeoning cattle business that has grown two-fold in the past year. With new property in the process of being purchased, your husband is securing the land and overseeing the move of the herd, while you are here in town to get your affairs in order: banking setup, food and provisions acquired, things of that nature.

You smugly watch the banker’s face grow more and more interested at the prospect of such a prosperous new client, as he eagerly takes notes as you speak. You lay it on thick, too, casually bragging about your fictitious husband’s endeavors, with a nonchalant wave of your dainty hand, but not so much as to be too unbelievable, just as the socialites and high-born used to do back east.

It is amusing to you how easily you are able to slip back into the social lifestyle that you were so readily willing to leave behind. It’s always a matter of presentation and flourish, a constant upkeep of appearances. It’s that ‘cat and mouse’ game that you never cared for. You never thought you were that good at it, but it seems to be rather advantageous for you now. It is amazing to watch how eager and greedy people are, wanting to get a part of something that they themselves do not possess. Basically, you feed Mr. Bagby the life of one of the families you had known. You change the topic from “real estate” to “cattle” but it’s the same setup, the same panache. And just as enticing to the banker.

“Well, that sounds just fine. All well and good!” he replies excitedly. “We can certainly take care of you, Mrs. Callahan. My name is Mr. Bagby. Raymond Bagby. And if there is anything you or your husband need, well you just be sure and let me know.” His eyes light up at the idea of such a wealthy new prospect coming into town that he can latch his greedy fingers onto.

“Thank you, Mr. Bagby.” You give him a smug, self-satisfied little grin. “I do appreciate th-“

Suddenly, the doors to the bank are flung open and a handful of men with bandannas around their faces storm in. The small crowd of people gasp at the sight, with one of the older women stifling a scream. You jump in your chair at the loud commotion, your hand shooting to your chest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery,” one of the men announces, his low gravelly voice commanding over the crowd of cowering townsfolk. He is broad and tall, with a leather trench coat that hangs off his frame perfectly. He brandishes a large pistol in each black gloved hand while a shotgun hangs conveniently across his wide back. “I highly suggest you keep quiet and cooperate and this will be over shortly.” He carries himself with a bravado and swagger, one that instantly lets everyone know that he is not to be questioned. His stony gaze passes over the collective group, alert to any minute movement.

Your eyes shift to the employees and patrons as they cower in fear. The look of horror skips across their faces as the realization that they could die right here and now settles into their scattered minds.

“Everyone, down on their knees. Now!” another burly man shouts, his shotgun prominently displayed across his body. A few shrieks of panic echo through the room, but everyone quickly complies.

“Everything will be alright, miss,” Mr. Bagby whispers to you, patting your hand in a feeble attempt to comfort you. “Just do as they say and you’ll be fine.”

You nod your head in understanding, averting your fearful eyes to the ground as you crouch down to the floor with the others.

The man who is apparently the ringleader of this event walks into the back where the vault is, his movement seems to glide in a way that belies a man of his stature, his calmness about such a thing almost unsettling. He points his gun at the row of tellers he passes before disappearing down the short hallway towards the safe. Meanwhile, the rest of his group stands at attention in his absence. One man wearing a dark gray hat and jacket stands guard at the door with his revolver at the ready, watching for any incomers. Two others survey the room, making sure no one tries anything stupid.

Until finally, the other large man with the shotgun lets his eyes land on you, sitting hunched up uneasily on the floor.

“Well well, ain’t you pretty!” He strides over and leans down to get a better look at you. “Maybe you should keep my friend in the back company, hmm? He’s been awfully lonely lately,” he chuckles with a sickeningly sweet voice.

“I’d rather die!” you spit out stubbornly, pitching a heated glare at the man.

“Oh, that can be arranged, ma’am. I guarantee.” He reaches down and roughly grabs your arm, abruptly yanking you to your feet. You try to push against his burly chest, but the man is simply no match for you as he towers over your height.

“Leave her be, you animal!” shouts Mr. Bagby.

The robber seems more amused than anything at the empty threat, saying nothing but simply turns and points his shotgun at Mr. Bagby, the barrel inches from his face. A gasp of alarm escapes your lips, your heart leaping into your throat, as you are terrified that this is the moment when shots will start to be fired.

“Please, don’t!” you shout in a panic, eyes blazing with a newfound fear in them as they dart back and forth between the two men.

All color drains from the banker’s thin face as his beady eyes slowly move from the end of the barrel up to you, and then back to the robber before he settles down into submission.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” chuckles the robber in smug satisfaction. He then proceeds to drag you across the room behind him as you desperately try to pry his thick fingers from your bicep.

“I got a little something for you, my friend!” he announces as you make your way towards the vault room. The man kicks the door open with his heavy muddy boot and heaves you through the doorway before slamming the door closed behind you.

You stumble into the room, recovering from the violent shove, and straighten up to come face to face with the other robber who watches you with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. A smile begins to form on your lips.

“Is Bill always that handsy with women?” you ask.

Arthur pulls down his bandanna, exposing his face as he chuckles. “No. Actually, I think he’s afraid of ‘em, to be honest”.

You’d be lying if you said that Arthur’s raw masculinity doesn’t excite you right now. The adrenaline that is pumping through your body is exhilarating, causing your whole body to tingle with electricity. And seeing Arthur calm and collected as if this were just another chore back at camp is an amazing thing to witness.

It is hard not to stare at his thick muscled arms as he works over the surface of the grand safe. His face carries such intensity, making the green and amber flecks that ring his blue irises even more pronounced as if he were possessed by something otherworldly. Were it not for the group of innocent bystanders in the other room, the desire to reach out and touch him would consume you.

But no time for that now. A quick shake to your head to refocus and you quickly walk to the back wall where the row of heavy safes are. Arthur works on the dial combination of the larger vault, while you pull a few pins out of your wristlet and begin picking the locks of the smaller, personal safes. Your heart beats loudly in your ears as your fingers work over the cool metal, knowing that the law could be upon you at any moment.

Not a word is spoken between you and Arthur as you focus on your work, the only sounds in the room besides your nervous breathing are the gentle tinkling of the metal locks being forced open and the soft creaking of their door hinges. You manage to get four of the coffers open quickly with little issue. They are filled with cash and coins, jewelry, bonds and deeds, all of which get dumped into a large leather saddle bag.

Arthur keeps track of the time as you work, periodically checking his pocket watch. He is always mindful not to get too greedy on these jobs. Best to stick to the timeline and get what you can, rather than push your luck and risk getting caught. The plan is to be in and out in fifteen minutes before the bank is due to close. ‘Live to fight another day’, as they say. And keeping a mental note in his head, Arthur determines that you’ve been here long enough.

Deciding that the two of you have collected more than enough, Arthur adjusts the contents of the overstuffed saddle bag before he ties it shut. Smirking at you, Arthur pulls his bandanna back up over his face.

“Ya done good, girl,” he praises as he hoists the saddle bags over his broad shoulders. “You ready to finish this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Your voice is a quaking whisper, filled with nervous energy as the realization suddenly hits you that you still have to make it out of the bank, yet. Robbing the bank is one thing. Getting away with it is something else, entirely.

“Alright, then. Remember, just act natural, we’ll do the rest,” he nods to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm as you give Arthur a tentative smile in return. The look of nervous fear on your face is not much of an act, but of true feelings, to be honest. Your eyes rim with the slightest bit of moisture as your lashes begin to flutter with anxiety. Arthur quickly notices how your chest begins to rapidly float up and down and your fingers fidget against your palms.

“Hey,” he pulls his mask down again, stepping up closer to you until you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. His eyes are like the ocean, endless and all encompassing as he stands over you. “Remember our deal? You look out for me and I’ll look out for you. Got it?” His voice is low and calm, centering you before you get too lost in your thoughts of doubt or hesitation, for it is hesitation that will derail any best-laid plan.

The cool feeling of Arthur’s leather gloves against your tender skin as his heavy hand cups your face settles your nerves. And the worry begins to ebb away, knowing that you will be as safe as you can be with him. Arthur won’t ever let anything happen to you. And it is within this commanding, yet calming aura that the outlaw carries within himself that you can find a sense of peace.

A quick, sharp breath gets pushed past your pink lips as your head gives a short nod in confirmation. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.” He winks as he pulls the bandanna up again.

This is it, the grand finale. If you and Arthur can get the gang out of the bank in one piece, you’re gold.

Arthur abruptly opens the door again and roughly shoves you through it back towards the lobby for the last bit of the show.

“Sit down!” he yells, tossing you to the floor in a heap into the middle of the room. “Goddamn useless woman!” You say nothing in return, hiding your face in what appears to be fear.

Arthur then turns his attention back to the room of nervous onlookers and fellow thieves. “Thank you kindly, people, for your cooperation. Sit still and quiet and no one will get hurt,” he announces with an all too casual tone. As his dusty boots carry him across the room, he strikes one of the cowering men in the face with the butt of his gun to make his point.

“If anyone even thinks about leaving to go get the law, we’ve got a shooter on that rooftop over there.” Arthur points his gloved finger through the window. “He’ll drop you dead the minute you open that door.”

And just as quickly as it had begun, the group of bank robbers swiftly ducks out of the building without so much as a creaking floorboard in their wake.

The group of you sit there on the floor of the bank, stunned and quiet, each looking at the door in case the thieves should decide to come back. After about five minutes, you are the one to break the stifling and tenuous silence.

“Are you all going to just sit there and let them rob us?!” you demand, scanning the faces of the patrons. You are quite the actress. If only Hosea could see you right now, how proud he would be.

No one moves out of sheer fear, staring at you with the eyes of terrified lambs as if you are crazy-talking. ‘Good Lord, these people are ripe for the picking’ you think to yourself.

“Who’s ‘us’? You don’t have any money here, yet. Remember?” one of the women in attendance hisses at you. “Keep your mouth shut, or else you’ll get people shot!”

But you disregard her warning. “Go get the sheriff!” you screech at the man laying next to you, who just stares back at you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “Go!” you reiterate, waving your hand towards the door. With no one else stepping forward, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation, hoping to draw the lawmen towards the bank and not out looking for the gang, buying them more time.

The poor man startles at the sound of your shrill voice and sprints to his feet as if he’s not sure if he is more afraid of the robbers or you. He trips over himself as he quickly makes his way across the room. He cautiously ducks his head as he opens the door, mindful of the shooter you were all warned about. Everyone else waits with paralyzing apprehension. When no shots are fired, the man proceeds to stumble out the door.

Now that the tension is broken, the people are abuzz with activity. Loud, nervous chatter fills the lobby as one of the women rushes to the man Arthur had struck in the face earlier. Within a few moments, the local sheriff and a handful of lawmen come barreling in through the bank doors.

“Alright everyone, calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” the sheriff declares, trying to assess the situation. “Carl, take a few men and post them on either end of the town. If those sons-a-bitches are still here, they won’t get too far.”

The sheriff proceeds to get statements from everyone in attendance and eventually makes his way to you.

“This one, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby points at you as his agitated body ambles to stand next to you. “This lady was tossed in with that heathen.”

“Is that so?” The sheriff eyes you up and down.

“This is Mrs. Callahan, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby nervously prattles on. “This here is Sheriff Langston, our top lawman, Ma’am.” You extend your arm to shake hands at the introduction. The sheriff is an average height, medium build, but nothing too impressive. He is clean-cut and neat, obviously taking his position of authority very seriously.

“Are you alright, ma’am? Did they hurt you in any way?”

“No, no I’m fine,” you huff in an exasperated tone. “They just shoved me around, is all.”

“Any idea who they are? Where they may be headed? Did they say anything to you?” the lawman presses.

“How would I know?! I wasn’t exactly paying that close attention,” you snap in annoyance at the barrage of questions. “They were filthy, I can tell you that much. The big one had red mud caked all over his boots.”

“Red mud?” Langston ponders, turning to look at one of the deputies.

“Yes, red mud. Why?” Your eyebrows furrow in exaggerated agitation.

The sheriff’s face twists up, lips pursed in thought for a moment as if piecing something together in his mind. “We have caves outside the western side of town. They’re covered in red clay. Would make a perfect hideout for a group of outlaws.”

“Not far from the rail line, too,” agrees the deputy. “That could be their way out, Frank.”

The sheriff nods in agreement. “Head on over there, see what you come up with.” The sheriff turns back to you with a self-satisfied smile. “Thank you, ma’am. You may have just led us right to those bastards.” (More like led them in the exact opposite direction of those bastards. And your heart settles a bit knowing that the law has taken your bait.)

“Good! Serves them right, attacking innocent people like that,” you snap with disdain dripping from your words like rainwater. A silent prayer of thanks rolls in your mind that not only does the sheriff not suspect you as an accomplice, but you have led them away from your friends, and more importantly Arthur.

Sheriff Langston looks you over, contemplating what to do with you next. “It’s getting dark soon. It won’t be safe for you to be walking around unchaperoned, especially since you’re a witness to a crime. These thieves may be looking for you.” His lips get pulled in slightly as he tentatively bites down in thought. “I don’t know what your plans are, ma’am, but you should stay here in town where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s necessary,” you brush him off with a nonchalant wave, standing as if to take your leave.

“‘Fraid I’m going to have to insist, ma’am.” The lawman moves to block you from the door, his hands held up and halting you where you stand. “We’ll escort you to the hotel for safe keeping. The owner there is a friend of mine. In fact, I’ll keep an eye on you myself, at least until your husband arrives, that is. It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve been through.”

You can’t help but notice how his dark eyes cast over your form with a slight hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. It’s slight, almost imperceptible, but you've seen that look in a man’s eyes before and a boulder drops on your stomach, making you slightly nauseous.

Shit. This was not part of the plan. And you have to be careful with how you handle this, as you are all on your own to do it. You expected to be questioned by the law, making sure that they have no information or lead to the gang, and then released. You are supposed to meet Arthur by the garden wall alongside the mill by nightfall. If you don’t show up, he’ll worry. And then God knows what he’ll do.

“Alright, then. If you think that’s what’s best, Sheriff,” you reply with your best fake smile, hoping that the sheriff will take your uneasiness as a reaction to the robbery and not your reluctance to stay. You can’t seem too eager to leave. If the sheriff gets even an inkling that you were in on the job, he’d hang you for sure. A cold sweat begins to mist across your chest under the silk layers of your dress as your fingertips start to tingle and go numb.

And so you concede to go along with whatever he suggests, playing the “innocent victim” as best as you can.

—----------------------------------

By the time everything is said and done at the bank, night has begun to drape its shadowy blanket upon the town. The moon casts its milky all-knowing eye over you and Sheriff Langston as you head down the steps of the bank together. Using a lantern to guide you, the sheriff's hand catches your elbow and leads you down the street and over to the hotel. You go along amicably, as to not rouse suspicion, and all the while, the sheriff babbles on and on with small talk in a feeble attempt at light flirtation.

Arriving at the modest hotel, the lawman checks you in, the hotel owner assigning you a room with a nod. You graciously accept the key and quickly bid the sheriff goodnight.

“Oh no, I’m going to have to stay with you while you’re here,” Langston asserts smoothly, leaving no room for argument.

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” you sputter, eyes shooting open to your hairline in shock at his brazenness.

“What if someone tries to break in on you? No, I’ll feel much better if I have eyes on you at all times.”

“I’m sure you would,” you mumble. Desperately trying to mask your frustration, you turn and head up the stairs with the man in tow behind you. You only make it up to the third step before you feel his hand on your lower back. Your skin shudders at the touch of the sheriff’s fingertips, and you try not to bristle too much because of it. If Arthur were to see this, he’d surely plant his fist into the man’s face. And in the depths of your ever-tightening chest, you are not sure if that would be a bad thing or not.

The hotel room is simple, but pleasant. But you have no designs on staying long. Your eyes skip about to take inventory of your surroundings, trying to devise a plan on getting the hell out of here before the sheriff gets too comfortable. You stand in the middle of the room, hands continuously turning over each other with a white-knuckled grip.

Sheriff Langston must sense your apprehension, though. He studies you out of the corners of his eyes as he sets about the room to light the oil lamps, their amber glow quickly illuminating the space. “Can I get you anything while we’re here, miss?” he asks you in an attempt to put you at ease while in his presence.

“Missus,” you pointedly remind him. “Mrs. Callahan.” You shoot him a stern look, giving him that unspoken warning that you are not ignorant and know exactly what it is that he’s hoping for.

Langston smiles with faux innocence. “Right. Mrs. Callahan.”

“I’d love some hot coffee, please. If you don’t mind, Sheriff.”

“Sure. I’ll have the kitchen send some up.” He opens the door and steps out into the hall but your hopes plummet when instead of going down to get it himself, Sheriff Langston yells down the stairs to have coffee brought up for you. Damn. You were hoping to get him out of the room, giving you time to go out the window or something. The icy reality settles over you that this man will not be letting you out of his sight.

After about ten minutes, one of the hotel maids arrives at the door with a tray with a steaming pot and two cups prettily displayed upon an embroidered linen. The sheriff takes the tray from the woman with a nod of thanks and places it down on the table in the middle of the room to allow you to fix yourself a cup.

“There we are. This should do the trick,” he grins at you.

You offer a small smile in appreciation and float towards the table, careful to place yourself on the opposite side of him. Sheriff Langston circles around, striding over to the window located on the wall behind you. The fact that his dark gaze cascades over your backside as he passes is not lost on you, either. The sheriff casually pulls back the curtain with his two fingers, looking out into the street for any activity.

“Do you like cream or sugar in your coffee, Sheriff?” you ask sweetly.

“Just a bit of sugar, ma’am. I like sweet things.” The words purr from his lips with a slow and unsettling drawl.

“Of course, you do,” you reply with just the hint of sarcasm. Turning your back as you set out the two cups, your fingers pull a small vial of nightshade out of your cleavage. You thank the heavens that you thought to bring it and discreetly pour its contents into his cup. Adding the steaming dark liquid from the coffee pot overtop, you plunk a sugar cube in and sir until the contents are finely mixed. A gratified grin dusts your lips as you tap the silver spoon along the cup's porcelain edge.

You turn around and stride across the floor, skirts swishing around your feet and hand the sheriff his cup with a demure little smile before sipping from your own. “How long do we have to wait here?”

“Until sunup,” Langston quips. “By then, I’ll check in with the boys and see if they tracked down that gang.” His eyes rake over you again as he sips from his cup, that same cold and uneasy feeling washing over you as your mind jolts to the knife Javier gave you that is tucked into your high-lace shoe.

“Don’t you worry, ma’am, I’ll catch ‘em. I don’t abide by that sort of thing in my town. They think they can walk in here and rob me right under my nose and get away with it?” he scoffs.

“They robbed the bank, not you,” you remind him.

“Same difference.” Sheriff Langston offers a dismissive wave at your seemingly irrelevant point. “Either way, they ain’t getting away with it, mark my words. I'll shoot first and ask questions later if it comes to it.” He cocks his head just slightly, reaching up to remove his hat and tossing it on the bed behind you. “Not in my town.”

You nod in understanding and wander over to the balcony doors for some fresh air and to put some much-needed distance between the two of you. You step out onto the landing that overlooks the street below, trying to get away from the sheriff's incessant staring. You are desperately hoping the nightshade kicks in before this sheriff gets bolder with his obvious interest in you. The sheriff is not a large man, such as Arthur or Bill, but he is still larger than you and your mind begins to search for ways to defend yourself if necessary. With your hands resting on the railing, you look out over the side and anxiously sigh.

While lost in your thoughts, your gaze falls to the shadows of the mercantile building across the street. Smoldering in the dark there, you notice the red pin-point glow of a cigarette end. Squinting to get a better look, you see a figure cloaked in the darkness, and softly smile as you instantly recognize the silhouette of the broad shoulders that you know so well. The silvery moonlight highlights the edges of that familiar worn gambler’s hat and your anxiety instantly melts. A wave of relief washes over you and you suddenly feel more emboldened, knowing that your beloved is mere feet from you should you need him. You are not alone. You never were.

Knowing the sheriff is behind you, you carefully lift your hands slightly off the rail and flatly cross them in front of you, a signal to Arthur not to come for you as it’s not safe for him. But he’s seen you and knows that you’re okay, at least for now. So he’ll wait, watching vigilantly over you until he can get you out of town safely.

—-------------------------------

A few hours go by, and you quietly collect yourself to head out of the room. The sheriff sits slumped over in a chair, the white coffee cup laying precariously on the floor next to him, deposited there by the hand that dangles limply above it. He’ll be knocked-out for a bit, with a nasty headache when he wakes, but you’ll be long gone by then.

The sun is nowhere close to being up yet. The whole hotel is dark with the inhabitants slumbering quietly in their rooms, the occasional snoring to be heard behind closed doors. Creeping down the stairs, you move slowly and carefully as your feet pad soundlessly upon the wooden steps. You glide imperceptibly past the front desk where the clerk is sleeping with his feet propped up on the wood, passed out in a deep slumber. Just a few more feet and you are able to slink out the front door with no one the wiser.

You cautiously step out into the street, looking both directions for any signs of life. Everything is dark and empty, not even a stray dog out at this time of night. The faint sounds of the night owls in the trees is the only thing to indicate that time has not stopped altogether. With a sigh of relief, you begin to head down the road towards the edge of town. Since no one is awake and out yet, you should be able to walk right out without even being noticed. The only witnesses to your escape are the shimmering stars above as they hang in the ink-black sky.

And it doesn’t take too long before you hear the melodic beat of a horse’s hooves behind you and that familiar voice that you are waiting to hear.

“You lost, pretty lady?”

The gravelly voice floats in the air like a tether to anchor yourself to. You close your eyes and release a slow exhale of gratitude, knowing that you are indeed safe now. Your flower-petal lips turn up into a soft and comforted smile at the very thought of your protective cowboy being a mere breath’s distance from you.

“Nope.” A contented sigh escapes your chest. “I know exactly where I need to be.”

You slowly turn around and look up at the handsome rider as he leans out on the saddlehorn. Even in the dark, you can see Arthur’s beautiful eyes as the moonlight shines down and casts his body in a silvery backlight, the edge catching upon his face.

“I could use a ride, though.” Your whole face radiantly lights up at your statement as the two of you stand quiet for a moment, taking each other in.

A sense of deep pride fills you as one thought rings prominently in your mind above all others: ‘I did it.’

**ok I know this isn’t my best work. Writer’s block is a cruel bitch. But, this is meant to be a turning point in my reader’s/oc’s development. Things will get harder from here, as we will get into the game story now, with the events of Blackwater coming up.

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola @kmartkiddieisle @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic @rhehr241 @earwen-x @akariver75 @djennty @nervousmumbling @xliliths @unbotheredbeeeee @onnetonprinsessa @kittiowolf210 @ezrynn @suhiss @arthurmargon @codnerd1999 @queer-sadie-adler @alice-vanderlinde @sweetandstoned21 @j4llyf7sh @spooky631 @m0r4rx @ilovrxats @i-69-urmom @ddbluesie @ivuravix @nervousmumbling @sickvictorianangel @tirededuxhours @ezzythereal1 @chloepluto1306 @ivys-valentine @spiritcatcherxo @lea-khena @brccklynbaby1 @foundynnel @readingcoco @carmelamontezlikr @ultraporcelainpig @sofiaa-xcx @namesaretomainstream @miphy @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @loveheartabby @daisybvck

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #photo1030

65 notes · View notes

homiesondaweb · 9 months

Text

This is my theory piece on astv Hobie's Backstory.

Despite the whole Punk lifestyle, living on a repurposed canal boat, minor rock star status, and having active warrants out for both his civilian and Spidey persona thing he's got going on. Hobie had a pretty normal childhood for a bit.

His Pa managed the local radio stations and his Ma was a lead writer for the newspaper. Hobie found himself the baby out of 5 siblings and their 4 bedroom flat was just a bit too small for the 7 people family but it was great.

The neighborhood was always lively with community get-togethers, music rattled the bricks and the air was always savory with smell of jerk. Hobie used to eat himself sick with coconut candy and orange cake every weekend. He liked going to 'school' which meant being crammed into Ms. Ngozi and Ms. Freedman's flat with the other neighborhood kids then being taught from books Ms. Freedman had smuggled in when she partnered with Ms. Ngozi. Reading, writing, history, debate, arithmetic, ethics, journalism, all kinds of science but Ngozi loved when Hobie would take a machine apart and remake it.

His eldest siblings by about 12 years, twin brothers Hudson and Hector ran the 'Shop'. If you needed something fixed within their 6 block neighborhood you took it there. Cars, big appliances, medical equipment, radios, tvs, his brothers could fix it all. They'd fix it good, cheap or free and in a timely manner. (And they greatly encouraged their Little Bart brother to tinker)

Next was is other older brother, Henry. He was only 9 years older than him. A photographer and worked under their mother getting dynamic shots for any article she posted. He introduced Hobie to a lot of artists and taught him how to observe the world around him. How to sneak in and out of it.

Then there was his only sister, Harley. She was closest in age to him, only 5 years older. She was a badass on the guitar and even slicker at the mouth. She debated anyone under a table and had a right hook to back it up. You never would have pegged her to be the one to run the community garden. Not with her self-done piercings, bleach painted jackets, head fully of bantu knots and black lipstick. But she did, she taught Hobie everything to know about growing orchids and tomatoes.

Life was good. Despite the rising police violence, cost of living, and the fumes of Oscorp rising. 11 year old Hobie didn't know it to be anything else.

Then, he turns 12. Ma and Henry don't come home.

He's 12 and the Ngozi-Freedman homeschool is raided. He never sees them again but Harley fills her stage trunk with their books and records.

He's 12. Someone reported the shop and President Osborne new "certificate enforcement" squad torches the building. Hudson gets away but the Symbiotes bail out Hector to them and he only has one arm.

He's 12. The government has taken over the radio station, firing Pa. The house becomes cramped with the equipment Pa had smuggled out. Hudson shows back up and he's as ghost as Hector.

He's 12 and half his friends are just faces on murals and the other half is sick from the water. The garden is sabotaged and the city fines Harley (how the fuck do you fine a 17 year old?)

And there's a protest. Pa has taken over the radios in the city and rallies the people, he repeats Ma articles over and over informing the people about the propaganda, the contamination, the disappeared people, the injustice. He repeats them and repeated them as the twins litter the city with flyers using Henry's photos of the truth.

And there's a protest.

There's hundred of protests of all sizes, all over.

There's a riot.

There's riots.

There's fire and panic and Symbiotes spill into the neighborhood like oil and-

Hobie turns 13, it's just him and Harley.

Hobie turns 14, it's just him and Harley's guitar.

Hobie is 15, he's just some punk kid bit by a radioactive spider while trying to find shelter from a Symbiote raid. He uses this to his advantage.

He turns 16 and instead of blowing out birthday candles he's smashing Harley's guitar through a fascist dictator head with his fellow super powered punks. (He can't think of a better wish)

He's 17 and Miguel makes a mistake in showing up to his dimension with an offer to join his 'society'.

#spiderman across the verse #hobart brown #Hobie Brown #hobie brown headcanons #spider punk

195 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 8

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“Shit!” El yelled just before a massive thunk silenced them all, every head turning to find you lying on the deck as if you had fallen forward.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered, racing to your side, dropping down to his knees and shooing away Miles who had run over to investigate. You were lying on your stomach, arms splayed to either side, your face resting on one cheek. He laid a hand on your cheek, brushing your hair back. “Honey? Hey?”

“She just went!” El shrieked, slightly panicked. “Her eyes rolled up into her head and I tried to grab her but she just fell forward!”

“Honey?” Steve tried again but received no response. As gently as possible, he placed his hands on your arms and rolled you to your back. A splash of red was painted across the side of your face and his stomach seized. “She's bleeding.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin shouted. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Damn. Let me grab something to clean it up so we can see where it’s coming from,” Lucas told him before rushing into the house.

Steve looked up to see both young boys standing, frozen, their eyes wide with fear. Eli’s blue eyes swam with tears, completely focused on his mom and Steve wanted to kick himself for forgetting they were there. For not thinking about how scary this must be for not only his son but for Eli, to see his mom unconscious on the ground.

“She’s gonna be okay,” he assured them, cradling you in his lap, your head lolling to the side like a rag doll. “We’ll get this blood cleaned up and see what happened.”

Lucas came racing back, wet washcloth in his hand and Steve took it, carefully dabbing at the skin of your face, around your temple, not wanting to hurt you any further. As the red came away, he saw a small cut just above your eyebrow and released a long sigh of relief.

“Should we call an ambulance?” asked Mike, kneeling down next to him.

“No. It’s not nearly as bad as it looked. Head wounds bleed like a motherfucker but it’s just a small cut. I’ve got some butterfly bandages in the bathroom cabinet. Max, can you grab me one?”

The redhead nodded and disappeared into the house. Steve placed one of his arms under your neck and the other in the crook of your knee. He wasn’t going to leave you out here on the hardwood decking. He rose up onto his knees and then carefully lifted you off the ground, your body limp in his arms.

“What can I do?” asked Robin hesitantly.

“Nothing. Pretty sure you’ve done enough,” he snapped, feeling guilty when his best friend flinched. He knew she meant well but they wouldn’t be in this position if she hadn’t decided to meddle in shit that was absolutely none of her concern. He softened his tone as he looked back over at the boys. “I’m just taking her to the couch where she’ll be more comfortable. I think she just passed out. She’ll probably wake up in not too long.”

“She did this before,” Eli said as he trailed behind Steve into the house. “We were at the library getting books like we do every month. The librarian, Ms. White, was trying to get my mommy to take a book. She said it helped her when her mom died and she was talking about how hard it was to lose someone. My mommy went really white. She looked like a ghost. She was breathing really funny and then she fell to the ground. They called the ambulance and I got to ride in it to the hospital. It was really scary but she was okay. That’s when she told me that sometimes her feelings attack her.”

“Do you know if she sees a doctor about her feelings?” asked Max gently as she handed the bandage to Steve.

“Yeah. Aunt Janice got her to go after my daddy went to heaven. Mommy was crying in her bedroom a lot. She didn’t think I knew about it but I did. She still does it sometimes but not like then. Aunt Janice and Matt would come over and make dinner or play games with me and mommy would just disappear for a while. I think she didn’t want me to see how sad she was.”

“She was just trying to protect you because that’s what moms do.” Steve could hear the emotion in Robin’s voice as he tenderly placed the bandage over your wound, his best friend’s words tight. “That had to be really hard for her and for you.”

“Yeah but she’s a lot better now. She told me the doctor helped her. He gave her stuff to do. Like, sometimes she has to find three things to look at, three things to listen to, and three things to move like her fingers or toes when her feelings get too big to keep in her body.”

“It’s good that she’s so honest with you about what’s going on,” Max said, kneeling down in front of Eli. “When my dad left my mom she was a mess but she never talked to me about it. I knew she was hurting but I never knew how to help or what to do. It could be even more scary because I didn’t know what was going on when she’d just shut herself in her room. I had no idea she was feeling this big thing called depression so I just thought I was the problem. I know watching your mommy go through this might be scary but it’s way less scary when you know what it is. You’re such a good kiddo for understanding and trying to help her.”

“What you and your mom went through…” Dustin paused, sighing with a shake of his head. “My dad went to heaven, too, but I was even younger than you so I don’t really remember it. But my mom has never been with anyone else. She said he was her everything and she could never replace him.”

Steve closed his eyes, his hand on your forehead. The hardwood of the floor was making his knees ache but he couldn’t bring himself to move as he took in Dustin’s words. Maybe that was what was happening here. Maybe, even if you liked him, you knew you could never feel for him the way you felt for your husband.

Maybe Steve would never be able to be what you needed because what you needed was gone. How could he possibly compete with a ghost? Not just a ghost, but a ghost of a man who had been everything to you? It was clear, with how hard you'd taken his loss, how you still struggled with it, that you'd loved him deeply. He kept searching for his person but maybe you couldn’t be it for him because you'd already found your person even if fate had been cruel enough to take him away.

“Mommy’s always told me the truth. She says it’s just her and me now so we have to have each other’s backs and be honest with each other. I know she doesn’t like me to see she’s sad but if I ask her about it, she doesn’t lie. Is she…is she going to wake up?”

“Of course she is,” Dustin told him, placing his hand on Eli’s shoulder. “Her feelings just got a bit bigger than she could fight and now her body is resting for a bit.” He glanced over at Steve and then back to the boys. “You know what? How about we head down to the basement and I introduce you to DnD? Lucas? Mike?”

“Yeah!” Lucas exclaimed, overdoing the excitement. “Let’s do it!”

“Absolutely,” agreed Mike. “Jere tells us you’re a big fan of all things nerdy. You’ll fit right in with us, kid. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“You will!” Jeremiah beamed. “Uncle Dusty and Uncle Mike built me my own DnD table and they’ve been teaching me. We do campaigns twice a month and it’s really fun!”

Eli looked uncertainly toward his mother, clearly torn about leaving you, about going to have fun when you could be hurt. Sweet kid. It was so obvious how much he’d tried to pick up the mantle of man of the house even when that burden was far too large for his tiny shoulders. It was written all over that serious little face how deeply he felt the responsibility to take care of his mom. Steve gave him a wink and a smile.

“Go on. She’s going to be fine and I won’t leave her side until she wakes up and I know she’s okay. I’m going to take care of her for you. I promise.”

The little boy still looked conflicted but he followed the guys, looking back over his shoulder once more as if making sure that Steve was still right next to you. He was and he had no intention of moving until you knew you were alright.

“Steve…” began Robin.

He held up his hand, “Just don’t, okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I know you were trying to look out for me but I don’t need you to. I don’t need a protector, Robin. I’m thirty-two years old.”

“But you never had one when you should have had one, Steve, and I think that’s why you sometimes make poor choices in life. I am always going to look out for you because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“We all do,” Max added, dropping down into the chair across from him, pulling her knees into her chest. “She seems great. I really like her. We weren’t trying to freak her out or convince her not to see you. I swear. We just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

El sighed, plopping down on the floor, “Yeah. We’ve watched you struggle for so long and if anyone deserves to find happiness, it’s you. We just didn’t know her whole story…”

“Maybe you could have kept quiet until you did,” he shot back.

“Maybe we should have,” agreed Robin quietly. “I just…I knew she lost her husband but I didn’t know how recently it was and I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t using you as a stepping stone, you know? You’re worth more than being someone’s rebound to help them get past their grief before they move on to someone else. You deserve better than that.”

A moan caught his attention and Steve’s head turned, watching as your eyes fluttered, your head turning slowly from side to side as you struggled to pull yourself back into consciousness. Everyone sat silent, leaning in, waiting for you to wake so they could see if you were okay.

“Hey honey?” Steve asked softly.

“Mmm…” you murmured, lids lifting, your eyes crossing as you tried to focus in on the source of the voice.

“Hey there,” Robin cooed softly from just over his shoulder. “You had us all worried for a minute there. So glad to see you waking up. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything? Glass of water? Some aspirin? Maybe a snack?”

“Robin, give her a damn minute,” Steve sighed with a roll of his eyes. She just couldn’t help herself. She was already bad enough but when she felt guilty, she was even worse, tripping over her words and her own feet to make everything right.

His friend held her hands up in apology, taking a step back. She really did mean well. She had such a big heart and was one of the kindest people he knew but she was so unaware of what was appropriate at certain times. Her foot was permanently wedged in her mouth.

“Steve?” you asked in confusion, your eyes coming into focus, a little divot between your eyebrows. “What…what happened?”

“You passed out,” Robin told you, leaning in again. She really just could not stop herself.

“I did?”

“Yeah,” Max piped up from her spot in the chair. “You face planted right into the deck.”

“But don’t worry,” Robin added. “Steve cleaned up all the blood and he put a bandage on you so you’re good as new. Really. Never looked better.”

“Blood? I was bleeding?” You reached for your head, fingers searching, wincing when you hit the tender spot where your face had made contact with the hard pieces of cedar.

“Don’t touch it. It’s just a small cut,” assured Steve, taking your hand in his, pulling it away from the tender skin. “It bled a lot. You know, head wounds. I’m sure Eli ran into something when he was learning to walk. I know Jere did. He fell forward right into the corner of the wall. I freaked the hell out because he bled like he had been decapitated but once we got it stopped and cleaned up it was this itty bitty wound. It amazed me how something so small could bleed so much.”

“Probably have a hell of a bruise tomorrow though. That was a hard fall,” Robin muttered.

“Eli? Oh my god. Where is…?” You sat up quickly before Steve could stop you, your eyes crossing again. Your hands grabbed for his arms and he held onto you, easing you back onto the pillow.

“Whoa there. You whacked your head pretty good and you passed out. You might want to give it a second before you try getting up and when you do, maybe go slow, okay?”

“Eli,” you repeated.

“Eli is fine. He’s down in the basement with Jere and the boys. They’re teaching him all about their nerdy game, okay? He was worried about you but I assured him you’d be fine and they managed to distract him for a bit. You know, you’re going to have to stop falling down whenever you’re around me or I might have to start keeping a good hold on you whenever we’re together.”

Your eyes went wide, a soft gasp falling from those perfectly pink lips. Jesus, what was that color? It was like cotton candy at the fair, tempting and delicious, making his mouth water. He guaranteed no lipstick brand could ever duplicate it.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your hand flying up to cover your eyes.

___________________________________________________________

The moments before you blacked out suddenly came rushing back to you and you wanted nothing more than for some natural disaster to hit at this moment. Preferably an earthquake that would create a massive fissure in the floor and swallow you whole. The girls telling you not to mess with Steve’s heart, announcing he liked you, Eli telling everyone you liked him, stating you should go on a date. Shit. No wonder you'd passed out. That was enough to make anyone’s anxiety skyrocket.

“Hey, are you okay?” came Steve’s voice, so close, too close. You needed to get the hell out of here. “Do you need to go to the hospital and have someone look at your head?”

“No, I…”

Robin interrupted. “Are you sure? You were out for a little while. We weren’t sure if we should call an ambulance or not. Eli said this happened to you before in a library but you were okay and so we thought you just passed out. And the cut on your head is pretty itty bitty but if you need a doctor we can totally take you to a doctor.”

“No. No. I’m fine,” you managed, pressing your hands down into the couch in an effort to sit up.

Two strong hands came to your shoulders, pressing you back down, “No, you’re not. I mean, you will be but maybe you shouldn’t be trying to sit up so soon. We don’t need you passing out again.”

“I’m not going to…look, I need to go. I need to go home. I need to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” scoffed Max. “You really think we’re going to let you drive after you hit your head and blacked out for ten minutes?”

“I’ll call a cab,” you insisted.

You swallowed hard as bile rose up from your stomach, acid scorching your throat. Whether it was from mortification or passing out you had no idea but you knew you needed to get out of here. You needed space. You needed air. You needed to be as far away from all these people as you possibly could. These people who’d just witnessed what would probably go down as the most mortifying moment of your life.

“Honey, you’re not calling a cab,” Steve stated, his tone resolute, pulling out the dad voice on you, trying to let you know that he wasn’t giving you an option.

“Yeah, I mean you really shouldn’t be alone right now. You could have a concussion for all we know. You could wind up with personality changes or something and then Eli will be standing there wondering where his mom went and who this stranger is in his home. Or you could have memory loss and not even remember who he is or who Steve is and then how will you two ever move out of the friend zone if you just go back to the start space again?”

“Robin, I do not have a concussion,” you groaned. “I am not going to lose my memory. Trust me. I wish I could forget some of the shit that happened today but I have not. Lucky me. I am pretty sure I’m good. I will call a cab, Eli and I will go home, and I will rest.”

“But what if you go to sleep and then you never wake up?” Robin pressed. “It happens. People hit their heads, they think they’re fine, and then boom! They’re just dead.”

“Oh my god!” shrieked Max. “She’s not going to die. Can you stop freaking her out? I think you’ve done enough of that today already.”

“I’m not trying to. I swear. I just don’t want anything to happen to her. She might be Steve’s only chance at actually finding happiness and I like her.”

“Jesus, Robin!” Steve growled, rising from the ground so fast it made your head spin a bit watching him. His fingers clenched into claws in front of him and then he inhaled a large breath, releasing it slowly before speaking again, his hands now resting on his hips. “Look, I need you to go, okay?”

Robin’s eyes went wide, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me. I know I should shut up but I can’t seem to stop talking. Please don’t be mad at me.” She looked down at you. “Please don’t hate me. I suck at social cues but I swear, I am a really good person and I like you and once you get to know me, I am not as bad as this is making it seem and I’d really like us to be friends.”

“I don’t hate you,” you told the distraught girl. “I don’t even know you, Robin. How can I hate you?”

“Steve, please…”

“Look, I’m not mad. I just…this has been a lot. This has been way, way too much. Okay? She’s had a lot of shit thrown at her all at once and she just passed out and hit her head. I just think that maybe she could use some peace and quiet.”

“I just need to go home. There’s plenty of peace and quiet there,” you argued again.

“I doubt that. Remember I have a seven year old boy too? They provide neither peace or quiet and I agree with Robin. I don’t think you should be alone right now. I would feel a whole lot better if you just stayed here so I know you’re alright.” He looked down at you, pressing his hands together in front of him. “Please? For me?”

His eyes, those swirls of warm color, like a forest of green leaves colliding with the brown of the branches, implored you to just give in and you found yourself helpless to refuse.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed softly, trying to ignore the warmth that ignited in your belly as he smiled at you.

“Thank you. There, Robin. She’s staying here. So you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll watch her memory, her personality, and her breathing, okay? I will make sure that she stays alive. You guys can all go.”

“You sure you don’t need any help?” asked El.

“I’m sure. I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Thank you but I got it.”

“Alright, well let’s gather all the boys then and get out of their hair.” El leaned forward, placing a hand on your arm. “I’m really sorry about all of this and I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

“Lucas! Mike! Dustin! Let’s go! Steve’s kicking us out before Robin can humiliate him any further in front of the girl he likes!” Max yelled from the top of the basement stairs, making you wince.

“Nice, Max. Real nice,” muttered Steve with a roll of his eyes.

The sound of footsteps, like the roar of a stampede, filled the house as five boys all came tromping up the stairs. Eli hit the top, his eyes lighting up when he saw you with your eyes open, racing to his mom and flinging himself down on top of you.

“Oof!” you laughed, wrapping your arms around your sweet boy. “I’m okay, buddy.”

“That was scary!” His voice was muffled, pressed against your neck but you could still feel the tremble in his little body.

“I know it was and I am so sorry that happened but I am okay. My feelings just got the better of me that time, buddy.”

“Damn, glad to see you’re awake,” Dustin huffed, flashing you an adorable grin that only made his cheeks even more round. “You scared the shit out of all of us for a minute.”

“So I was told.”

“So, why are we getting kicked out?” asked Lucas, turning to Robin. “Did I hear your name? What the hell did you say now?”

Robin just shrugged, a guilty smile on her face. Max sighed, rolled her eyes and grabbed onto the back of Lucas’s shirt, dragging him toward the door.

“What didn’t she say?” El laughed, taking Mike’s hand. “It was really nice to meet you. Hope we get to see you again, if Steve lets us anywhere near you.”

“Me too,” you replied, lifting your hand and giving everyone a wave while keeping your other hand firmly around your son who was still clinging to you like you were a raft on turbulent waters.

“Seriously?” muttered Mike as they made their way out the door. “What did Robin say?”

“Probably just what all of us are thinking,” Dustin replied, the door shutting behind him.

“Really sweetheart, I am okay,” you assured your son once again now that everyone had gone. “Just a little bump on the head. I fight those feelings and usually I win. This time they were just a bit stronger than me but I’m still okay. Your mommy always wins in the end.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, pulling away just enough to look at you and your heart broke at the sight of his puffy eyes and red face, tears trailing down those sweet, full cheeks.

“Of course I’m sure. I can’t let those feelings win. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I have you. You’re the thing that always gives me strength, Eli. You’re the reason I keep fighting again and again. They can’t ever beat me because I have you. You’re my sunshine that beats the darkness. You’re my joy that always overpowers the sadness. You’re like Captain America’s shield or Wonder Woman’s bracelets.”

He grinned, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, “The Bracelets of Submission are pretty powerful.”

“They are and so are you.”

“And so are you, mommy. You’re more powerful than all the superheroes in all the comic books in all the world.”

“Thanks, kiddo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You and your mom are going to spend the night here. How does that sound?” Steve asked.

Spend the night? When had you agreed to spending the night? You thought he’d meant to just stay for a couple hours to see how you were feeling, not the whole night.

“Really?” Eli’s eyes went wide, his grin almost cracking his face in two. Of course he’d love that idea. “A sleepover?”

“Yep. We just want to make sure your mom is back to one hundred percent so you guys are going to sleep here so I can keep an eye on her. I’m not letting her go home until I know she’s okay.”

“You’re gonna take care of her?”

“I sure am.”

Eli grinned, looking over at Jeremiah, the two boys looking far too excited at the idea of Steve ensuring she wasn’t concussed. But wasn’t that what Eli had said? That he wanted you to have someone to take care of you? They were twisting this situation into exactly what they wanted it to be. And you couldn’t even be upset about it because they both just looked so damn hopeful and adorable.

“I knew you would be the perfect person to take care of my mommy. I knew it!”

“So, how about you two take Miles out in the backyard for a bit to play and we let your mommy get some rest?” Steve suggested. “I’ll stay right here with her and make sure she’s alright, okay? And how about we order pizza later?”

“Pizza!” both boys yelled at the same time.

“I usually only get pizza on Fridays and now I get it on Sunday too! Cool! This is like the best day ever except for Mommy falling down!” Eli stopped, his face scrunching. “But what about school tomorrow?”

“I’ll take you both to school.”

“I can take him to school,” you stated. “I have to get to work anyway. We can just get up sooner and leave so I can change clothes.”

Steve shook his head. “I can take them both. I mean, I already have to head that way anyway and I’m sure Jere has something in his closet that Eli can borrow for the day. Then you only have to worry about getting yourself ready, as long as you’re feeling okay.”

“I will be. I already feel fine now,” you argued, attempting to sit up and immediately lying back down when a wave of dizziness and nausea overtook you.

“Oh, do you now?” teased Steve, dropping down at the other end of the couch, lifting your feet and placing them in his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if your heart rate hadn’t just ratcheted up to two hundred at the physical contact. “Look, I know you are dying to bolt out of here and leave a you shaped hole in my wall because of my friends. But that’s just them. They love to stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong and think they’re making my life easier when, in reality, they are making it exponentially harder. There is nothing for you to be embarrassed about. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s them. They’re meddling almost caused you a trip to the ER.”

“No they didn’t. It’s fine.”

It was. Kind of. Maybe. You didn’t know. All they were trying to do was look out for their friend. You couldn’t fault them for that. And nothing they had said had been wrong. You couldn’t make any promises. You hadn’t opened your heart to anyone since Justin’s death. You hadn’t found anyone that made you want to, until now anyway. But were you just being selfish? There were so many more hearts involved than just your own. It was hard enough to be willing to risk your heart breaking, but what about Eli, Jeremiah, and Steve?

“It’s really not.”

“No. It is.” You pressed your hands into the couch, slowly pushing yourself up to sitting. The room stayed level, nothing tilting or swirling for which you were grateful. “They were just looking out for you. It’s sweet, really. They don’t want to see you get hurt again and I understand that.”

“There are no guarantees in life. Nobody can ensure someone doesn’t get hurt. Trust me. I would wrap Jere in bubblewrap and keep him away from all the bad shit if I could but I can’t. Besides, we’re not even…I mean, this isn’t even…is it?”

You looked at Steve, this man who’d somehow cracked your heart wide open again. This who’d managed what you never thought would be possible. This man who’d made you feel alive, who’d made you feel truly happy, even hopeful for what the future could look like. This man who was everything you could have ever hoped for as if you'd created him in your dreams and he’d somehow become real. This man who had the power to shatter your heart into dust or bring it back to life.

Was it something? You didn’t know but you knew, as simply as you knew that the sun would set in a few hours and rise again tomorrow, that you wanted it to be. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was wrong but if it was, how come it felt so right?

You liked him being around. You loved how seamlessly he seemed to fit into your life, how easily he got along with Eli, how fluidly he just seemed to make sense. Eli adored him. He’d already stated that he thought Steve would be a great dad. Not that you were considering that just yet. You might be hopeless when it came to your feelings for him but you weren't insane. Somehow he’d managed to just sneak in under your radar and now you couldn’t picture your life without him in it in some way. Maybe you were just a bit crazy but wasn’t that what life was? Making crazy decisions, taking huge leaps, and just hoping it all turned out okay?

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Do you want it to be?”

His lips pursed, fingers running over the fabric on the back of the couch and you wished you could be inside his brain, see what he was thinking. You were terrified of putting yourself out there again, opening your heart, letting yourself feel so deeply for someone again to possibly have it all shatter around you. But you were even more terrified of not taking a chance and missing out on what could be something amazing.

“Yeah, I do,” answered Steve after a beat, his eyes lifting to yours, those chameleon orbs a golden brown, like whiskey over ice, burning all the way down your throat to your very center. “I really do.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I guess I thought I was pretty obvious but apparently not. Did you miss me trying to kiss you when we went ice skating?”

“I thought you were but then I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, well, it was an epic fail. I told myself to take my time. I know you lost your husband.” His teeth raked over his bottom lip, eyes darting to the floor before returning to hers. “Jere told me that Eli’s daddy was in heaven but I had no idea how it happened or when. I didn’t want to come across as pushy.” Those thick fingers raked through that glorious hair, massaging the back of his head. “Look, I like you, honey. I mean, I really like you. And yeah, I was floored the moment we met because you’re beautiful. I’m sure you know that.”

A million butterflies took flight from within your chest. No. You didn’t know that. Justin always told you how gorgeous you were and you would roll your eyes, telling him he was simply seeing you through rose colored glasses because of his love for you. Hearing Steve say it, it was something entirely different. He had women throwing themselves at him left and right. Women who took time with their appearance, who got regular haircuts, who wore heels and did their make-up every day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have any confidence but you'd never thought you were up to the standards of some of the women in this town.

“But it’s more than that,” he continued, lips pressing together, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Getting to know you…I mean, you’re…hell, you’re amazing. You’re everything I would put on a list of what I think the perfect girl is. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re independent. You’re an amazing mom. And you’re so damn strong. I can’t imagine going through what you have. I don’t know if I would still be standing let alone surviving the way you are.”

Tears stung your eyes and you slid the back of your fingers along them to catch them before they fell. It felt so gratifying to hear someone acknowledge how hard it was. How hard it was to keep moving forward when you felt like your entire world had stopped. How hard it was to live again after losing the thing you were living for. How hard it was to be everything your son needed when there was no one to ever stop and ask what you needed.

“So, yes. I want this to be something. I want to be with you. I want to hold your hand. I want to take you on a real date where I get to kiss you when it’s over. I want to know everything about you. But I understand if you need more time. I am willing to wait. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want to mess this up because I really think we could have something great here. So, I do want this to be something but I don’t want you to feel obligated if you’re not ready.”

“Justin…my husband…we lost him two years ago,” you said softly, each word a tremble in your voice. “He was a Marine. He was supposed to be on a humanitarian mission in Somalia. He assured me there was nothing to worry about. There wasn’t supposed to be any fighting. But things went wrong. Some of the locals did not approve of our troops being there and they attacked. He was caught in the crossfire of the attack. The Marines wouldn’t give me any more information than that because it’s strictly confidential or that’s what they told me anyway.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks and then Steve’s thumbs were there, gently wiping them away. His hand came over to cover yours, engulfing it completely, giving you enough strength to keep talking. You hated talking about this but if this was going to be something, if you were going to try to make this something, then you had to start by being honest with him and letting him know what he was getting into.

“Damn. Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. You always know it’s a risk when you’re married to a military guy but you just don’t ever want to think it will be you. Then suddenly two guys in uniform show up to your door. They didn’t even have to say anything. The minute I opened that door and saw them, I knew. They couldn’t have been there for any other reason. Their job is to give you the news that your life has been irrevocably changed. You only see them on the worst day of your life. I crumpled to the floor. I don’t even remember their words, don’t remember them somehow getting me to the couch, don’t remember them calling my mom. Lot of good that did. She’s hours away. Somehow I must have asked them to call Janice because here she came. If it hadn't been for her, I would still be on that couch.”

Steve didn’t say a word, his thumb tracing small circles over the back of your hand, and you were grateful. You weren't sure you could keep talking if he spoke right now and you wanted to get this out. He had a right to know. If he was truly interested in this becoming something, then he needed to know everything. He needed to know the mess that he was about to wade through.

“I went to a really dark place for a while. I functioned, but barely. The only thing that kept me going was Eli. He was all I had to live for anymore but I wasn’t really living. It was more like I was just existing. I knew he needed me. He needed me to be his mom. He needed me to keep things as normal as possible and I tried but it was all a show. Inside I was as far from normal as a person can be. On the days it was too hard Janice would come over and amuse Eli so I could fall apart. She finally convinced me to see a therapist and it helped.”

“Good. That’s really good. I mean, no one would expect you to be okay after something like that. I’m so sorry you felt like you had to pretend to be but I am glad you’re doing okay now.”

“See, that’s the thing…” You chewed on your lower lip. “Steve, I like you. I mean, I really like you. You’re the first guy who’s made me feel like I have a shot to be happy again. Hell, you’re the first guy who’s made me feel anything since it happened. But your friends might not be wrong. I don’t know if I am completely okay. I’m on medication, anti-anxiety meds and anti-depression meds. I was on sleeping pills but I weaned off those about a year ago.”

“Okay.” Steve shrugged, shaking his head. “Lots of people take medication on a regular basis.”

“Yeah. They do but I still sometimes have anxiety attacks. Certain things can trigger me and I can’t even always pinpoint what they are. Sometimes it’s something to do with Justin but sometimes it's not. It’s like I can’t handle the unexpected anymore. I keep waiting for disaster to strike or bad news to arrive at every turn. I don’t know. My therapist taught me this 3-3-3 technique. I find three things to look at, three things to listen to, and move three parts of my body. It usually works but obviously that did not happen today. It came on faster than I could process. But I can’t promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“Alright. So, if it happens I’ll know how to help. I’ll be there for you. Honey, you make it sound like you’re going to be such a chore for me.”

“I am. Don’t you see that? I’m not just some girl that’s easy and care-free and I come with a kid.”

“So do I,” snorted Steve.

“Yes but I also come with a ton of baggage. I mean, a warehouse full of baggage.”

Steve flexed his bicep, flashing you a grin, “I work out pretty regularly. I’m a fairly strong guy. I think I can handle hauling around a few bags.”

“Steve,” you sighed.

“Honey, look. I get it. But you think you’re the only one with baggage? The baggage from my parents alone could fill three semi trucks. That’s not even counting my constant search for someone who will love me for me or my failed marriage. No. I don’t take medication and I don’t have anxiety attacks. But I am needy. I am neurotic. I have a hero complex according to Robin, always trying to save everyone in my endless pursuit to matter somehow. I have chosen the wrong women my whole life because I’ve been seeking something I’ve never been able to find. Until you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough. I know enough to know that you’re different. I know enough to know that this is worth trying. I know enough to know that this could be something amazing if we give it a shot. I’m willing to help you carry that baggage if you’re willing to help me carry mine. Everybody comes with baggage. I think it’s about finding someone who’s willing to help you carry the load. I’m willing to take the risk. Are you?”

You inhaled deeply. “I want to.”

“Then stop thinking so hard about it and do it. We don’t have to rush anything. We can take things slow. Just let me take you out for dinner. See how it goes.”

“What about the kids? If this doesn’t work out…Eli would be crushed if he lost Jeremiah. I think he would be crushed if he lost you.”

“Then he doesn’t have to. We’re both rational adults. This isn’t high school. If it doesn’t work out, then we go back to the way things are right now. I mean, come on. You’re talking to the guy who is still friends with his ex-wife. I was just out with them a few weeks ago for her husband’s birthday. I am more than capable of maintaining contact and being amicable after a split.”

“You’re sure you want to do this knowing all you know now?”

Steve smiled, leaning over your legs, those beautiful eyes gazing into yours, “I’m even more sure knowing all I know now because what I know is you are even more incredible than I thought you were before. Just one dinner. That’s all I’m asking. If you don’t enjoy yourself or you don’t think it’s going anywhere, it ends there. Come on. You can do one dinner, maybe dessert, right?”

You nodded, that terrifying little feeling that was hope blooming in your chest, “I can do one dinner.”

Chapter 9

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox

Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. ❤️❤️❤️

89 notes · View notes

latriii · 9 months

Text

LAST INTERLUDE ✶ 박성훈 PART ONE

SYNOPSIS. Do you believe in reincarnation? You’ve lived over fifteen lives, but your fourteenth life stuck with you. As you lived your fourteenth life, you meet a boy who seemed to peek your interest after years of being bored of living life over and over again. Your friendship with Sunghoon grew until it suddenly stops and your reincarnated again.

IN WHICH, Sato Maeji or Moon Y/N and Park Sunghoon grow strong feelings for one another until Y/N suddenly passes away and reincarnates.

GENRE. angst, fluff, fantasy, childhood enemies to lovers. Inspired by See You In My 19th Life.

PAIRING. non-idol! Sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS. mentions of death, illness, car crash, panic attacks, alcohol, not so good family relationships

WORD COUNT. 4K ( 4,790 )

AUTHORS NOTE. Longest fic i’ve written and my first Sunghoon work! I wrote this awhile ago like maybe a month or two ago but honestly i needed this out of my drafts so please if you see any mistskes lmk!! + left you guys on a cliff hanger cus i felt like it LOOOL

Is he alive?

Your back scratched against the wall as you slid down. Decades of memories had been unlocked, Images of places, faces, and events flashed in your mind. It was too many to comprehend in a single awakening.

You stare ahead, your parents had just burst through the doors. They were arguing again. You weren’t phased anymore, because only one thing mattered to you now. You wanted to know if he were alive.

You’ve gone through hell and back with all the lives you’ve lived. Every emotion you’ve felt in the past fiftteen lives ran throughout your body and had brought you closer to understanding of the world in a whole new way. You had tasted love, anger, and despair all in a few seconds.

ONE ✶ FOURTEENTH LIFE

You sang to yourself, your hands moved to the music as you stroked the brush against the canvas.

You weren’t bothered by anything. You were twelve and two years ago you were reminded that you were reincarnated once again. Luckily, you were wealthy in this life — You were at peace.

Until you weren’t. Your painting came crashing down to the ground, your eyes shifted to a boy who seemed to be younger than you.

“What’s your problem?” You shout. The boy turned around, glancing between you and your painting. “Shouldn’t you apologize after bumping into someone?”

“Who are you?” He says as he crossed his arms, he looks you up and down before stepping closer.

“You look like a kid. What grade are you in?” You look down, he was shorter than you.

“A kid?” He scoffed. You two stood in silence before a black car beeped from behind the nameless boy. He sends you one last glare before running off to the car.

“Kid!” You yell one last time before the car drove off. You scoff to yourself and turn back to your painting that was sitting on the ground. You pick it up and decide to go home.

Days went by. You walk alongside your mother as she held you close. You were finally meeting her friend who had been ill for sometime. She handed you beautiful handpicked flowers she prepared.

“She’s going to love them.” Your mother smiles, you both reach the door and were greeted by her friend, Sumin.

Your mother lets go of you as she stepped closer to Sumin and embraced her. You watched as the two share a moment together.

You’ve always wondered how people felt whenever they met a sick person. You’ve lived so many lives, yet you haven’t experienced this once.

You decided to walk around the beautiful home of your mothers’ friend as they sat down and chatted together. You hear them loud and clear while taking in every detail of Sumins’ home.

“The kids at her school call her Ms. Sato. She acts like an adult when she's still a kid.” You hear your mother toning down her voice.

“The problem with my son is that he’s too cold-hearted. I may have spoiled him too much.” Sumin pauses, “How did you raise her?”

“I think around two years ago, it was like she fully matured overnight.”

These conversations didn’t bother you. Your mother was right — you did change two years ago. You gained your memories two years ago.

You remember each night in detail of when you regained your memories. You started counting them.

It was a different feeling each time. Like someone had been stuffing down all your emotions and feelings you felt in the past hundreds of years into your body at once. You always wondered why you kept getting reincarnated — you wondered if there was heaven or hell because you certainly couldn’t get into either.

You didn’t want to eavesdrop any longer. You sneakily walked away. You stepped through the backdoor that led to a beautiful pool. You stood there as you notice a boy swimming peacefully underwater.

In my 14th life, I was getting bored of repeating life after life, until I met him.

The boy swam up noticing a shadow from above the water. He wiped his face and stared at you. You instantly recognize him — it was the boy who bumped into your painting.

This must be Sumin’s son. You could tell what she meant by he was cold hearted and spoiled. He never said sorry for knocking down your painting nor did he seem to care. He’s causally swimming like nothing happened.

You hesitated before speaking. “Was something down there?” You stepped closer to the pool as he swam closer to you.

You were always kind to people, even when it wasn’t deserved. You knew people took advantage of you, but you also knew that other people were struggling just like you. The world didn’t revolve around you. Your countless lives taught you that.

You lend your right hand as you kneeled closer to the boy. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into the pool with him.

The boy quickly jumped out as you sunk deep into the water. He watched as you struggled your way out of the pool.

“Have fun.” He announced with a smile before running off.

You couldn’t believe the nerve of this kid. What was he thinking? Was this his way of flirting or was he just a jerk?

You changed into new clothes that his mom lent you. Curiosity filled your body, you asked his mother where her son was.

“He’s in the library,” she told you before you smiled and walked off.

You made your way to their library, the smell of new and old books filled your nose as you walked through the area.

Although you were distracted, you couldn’t help but notice the nameless boy struggling to reach for a book.

“Do you need help?” Your hand rested on the book, and the boy’s eyes shifted to you as you stared back in amusement.

The boy let go of the book and shoved his hand into your shoulder. “Get away from me. I don’t need your help.”

“You’re too short to reach it, kid.” You stood there, you observed his facial expressions, he was clearly annoyed. “I’m not a kid.”

You quickly grab the book and throw it onto his head. “You did that on purpose!” He winced in pain as he held onto his head.

“What’s a better way of teaching a rude kid a lesson than to throw a book at their head?” You reply.

“What are you going to do if I start screaming?” The boy crossed his arms.

“Do it. I’ll make you disappear in two seconds.” You took a step closer to him, to let the weight of your words sink in.

“Are you a witch?” The boy steps back, picking up the book off the ground. The witch and her past lives.

You remained silent, the boy looks intently at your face. You have his attention. “No, I’m not a witch. But,” You paused.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

My name is Park Sunghoon. You remember when he first told you his name. It took him about 4 days before he officially did.

Your fingers danced on the piano. You played as Sunghoon sat beside you. You both were on the topic of reincarnation again. He would ask you silly questions about it.

You always answered even if it were a stupid question.

“My true age? You’ll never know.” You draw your lips into a thin line, and looked up to meet his gaze. Giggles filled the room as he realized he was defeated. “Right.”

You two surprisingly grew closer over time. You would come over to his house and hang out with him whenever you had time.

One day, while Sunghoon was reading the book that you had dropped on his head, he paused and asked you a question. “Will my mom remember me when she's reincarnated?”

You stared into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, a river of thoughts passing through your mind. You didn’t know what to tell him.

“No.” You leaned your back against the bookshelf, as your arms naturally crossed as your eyes shifted to the beautifully detailed ceiling.

Sunghoon hummed while staring at you, the sadness in his eyes waning only a little as he took your answer in.

His mother was very sick, you both knew she was slowly passing. You had promised Sunghoon's mother you would take care of her beloved son when she passed, and that's what you planned.

“You know I’ll always stay by your side.” You tell him as your eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Do you,” Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, searching for the proper words to say, ”Do you like me?”

You chuckle at his words before leaning close to his ear, “I’ll answer on your birthday.”

You told him you would stay by his side yet you couldn’t keep your promise. You were reborn into your fifteenth life.

The wind blew through your hair, you peered out the taxi window as your hand rested on the glass. You were on your way to meet Sunghoon again, on the very same day you met him yet a couple of years later.

You needed to know whether he was alive or not.

The cab stopped in front of the house. You took a deep breath before stepping out, the pavement felt familiar. Everything seemed to be the same.

You watch the car you used to ride in with Sunghoon pass by, the image of you two smiling in the back seats flooded your mind.

”Happy birthday, Sunghoon!” you smile at him, pushing the present box forward. He grabbed the present, and you felt content, only to be smothered by his embrace. “Thanks, Sato.”

It was almost like it was yesterday, you two were heading to the amusement park for Sunghoon’s tenth birthday.

You remember watching the boy's smile fading as if he noticed the car approaching from the opposite side. The memories of his eyes widening and how you could feel his grip tighten like he was trying to stop something from happening constantly replayed in your head.

Thats how your fourteenth life ended.

Drops of water started to fall from the sky as if realizing your emotions. You could feel the tears start to fall too.

You stood in silence as the memories of the past flashed by. You remembered how he would hold your hand, never letting it go, even during his toughest and saddest times.

You were soaked in the persistent rhythm of the rain, and there seemed to be a rhythmic harmony between your thoughts and the sound of the rain.

You were only ten in this new body. Unrecognizable in the his world and honestly your own. You had to make a plan and grow up well.

You were determined to find a way into his world.

But would he still remember you?

TWO ✶ FIFTEENTH LIFE

Your name switched overnight.

Sato Maeji changed to Moon Y/N. That was your name in your fifteenth life.

You usually would live a low and quiet life, you’ve always tried to blend in. But, not this time. You wanted to stand out — you needed to. The world was slowly becoming a living nightmare outside, and you need to do something to stop it.

You were born into a lousy family in this life. Your father was a raging alcoholic and your brother wasn’t any better. Your mother left the day you regained your memories.

All the time spent to stand out wasn’t for no reason, you needed to survive and live well.

You turned twenty-three and you were already known in your company, you were talented and famous for being a child prodigy. You did that on purpose of course.

You became a pretty successful young woman.

Now all you needed to do is meet Park Sunghoon again. It was hard though, you realized how difficult it was for two people to meet especially when they came from completely different backgrounds.

You knew as soon as Sunghoon graduated from college he went abroad. You were waiting for him to come back, which meant ignoring all the job offers you got from other companies once they learned about how smart you were. You only wanted to work for him and his company.

“Ms. Moon.” You suddenly hear a voice coming from behind you. You turned around to be met by Yang Jungwon, the owner of a rival company against the Parks’.

You quickly turned your back and continued walking away. “Don’t you think it’s unprofessional to follow me out of my job?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls.” He tells you. He was now walking beside you with his hands shoved in his suit pockets. “Also, if I were to see you while you were at home might’ve felt like I was stalking you.”

“Mr. Yang, you already coming to see me when I’m outside of my office unannounced is something a stalker would do, you know.” You point out.

Jungwon clears his throat. “Have you thought about the offer I gave you?”

“No, I am fine with my job. I have no plans on moving to another company.”

“Come on, I'm a big fan of yours.” Jungwon pauses, “Not in that way but business-wise. You had everyone under your spell with your talents and Yang company is better than the Parks. You know that.”

“Yes, you’re right.” You say shifting your body towards him. “But he’s not at your company.”

“What do you mean?” Jungwon asks, quizzically tilting his head to the side.

What you wanted to say was, yeah he’s my last love and I want to meet him again so we could get married like we promised when we were kids. But, you didn’t say that.

it went more like, “There’s someone I want to meet.” And with that, you walked away from the man.

Jungwon at first thought you had a boyfriend at work, it would make sense at least. But, he brushed it off since it wasn’t his business anyway.

Distracted by you walking away, Jungwon gets a notification from Nishimura Riki. Did you hear? Jungwon raises his brow at this message and continues reading. Sunghoon is coming back to Korea!

You walked into the company’s lobby, greeting your co-workers and other guests. Suddenly you noticed that Jungwon had followed you here. Except it wasn’t to bother you. He went to talk to other higher business owners that seemed to be all gathering at the Parks’ Empire Lobby.

“The Park Empire Ice skating business is recruiting.” One employee says. “The chairman's son posted these vacancies.”

You froze. You turned to where the group of employees and business owners were gathered. You thought Sunghoon had moved abroad for good. Why was he going into the ice skating business?

Should you give it a shot? it would be a great idea to work for the chairman’s son. Or in better words, for your last love.

“You should avoid the ice skating business. It isn’t doing well.” Soobin says to you, he puts his hands on your shoulder as you walk up to the paper that states the information.

Finally. You have a chance to meet Sunghoon again.

THREE ✶ FIFTEENTH LIFE

Sunghoon was sleeping peacefully in bed, his blanket covering his whole body including his head. He was trying to avoid the sunlight at all costs.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ding. Dong. Ding.

Na Jaemin was annoyed. He was ringing and knocking on Sunghoon’s apartment door for what felt like years with no response.

He needed Sunghoon out of bed, so his fingers naturally pressed the pin of his door to unlock it and made his way in.

Jaemin walked into Sunghoon’s room, noticing his lifeless body asleep. He internally groans at this sight before pulling the blanket off him.

“Get out of bed, Sunghoon,” He says as he earns a tug from the opposite end of the blanket. “Do you want to be late on your first day back?”

Sunghoon was fighting for his blanket back. “I told you to not let yourself in like this.” Jaemin lets go of the blanket and scoffs.

“I wouldn’t have to if you just opened the door.” Jaemin grabbed a pillow and hit his best friend and business partner. Sunghoon naturally shielded himself from the hits.

“How many times did I tell you to stop covering your head with the blanket? You can never hear me knocking.” Jaemin bickers.

“It’s not the blanket, it’s the jetlag.” Sunghoon bites back.

“Dude, you’ve been in Korea for over a week.”

Sunghoon ignores him and decides to wash up. He was tired, he didn’t want to work especially under his father's company. But at least he got to run something he loved. Ice skating.

“I told you we should just live together.” Sunghoon walks over to Jaemin while he roughly dries his hair with a towel. “It would be great for me and convenient for you, so win-win.”

“Really?” Jaemin replies. He was looking at documents of the skating empire. “I already have to see you every day at the office. Now you want me to babysit you at home?”

Sunghoon ignores him again, he sat down across from his friend and goes on his phone.

“Jungwon wants to throw you a welcome-back party.” Jaemin looks up at the boy, “he said you could choose the date.”

Jaemin could see that Sunghoon was visibly angry at what he said. “Why is he contacting you?”

“It must be because you never reply to him.”

“Well because I blocked him. You should block him too!” Sunghoon raises his tone while Jaemin seems to stay unbothered.

“You know I can’t do that, he’s the heir of the Yang Empire.” Jaemin continues to scan over the documents.

Sunghoon gets up from his seat in a fit. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to deal with the Yang Emipre, so block him!”

“You can’t keep acting like you are still abroad, you have to face these people soon.”

“I know but I just can’t stand Jungwon!”

Jaemin shakes his head and signals Sunghoon to sit next to him by patting the seat. “Hating on him is like hating on yourself. You both are filthy rich and obnoxious.”

Sunghoon gives Jaemin a side eye before he groans loudly in frustration. He felt defeated by his secretary.

“Anyway. I’ve looked at the applications for the ice skating business like you asked.” Jaemin says as he hands Sunghoon the applications.

Sunghoon shuffles through the applications. “You should keep an eye on this one.” Jaemin points out a certain applicate.

“Who is she?” Sunghoon questions as he scans the document. “Moon Y/N. She’s the only person from the head office to apply.”

Sunghoon hums. “It’s unusual though. She applied for the role of executive assistant.” Jaemin states.

“But I didn’t ask for another assistant.” Sunghoon confusingly says as he shuffles through her resume.

“I know. But she insisted.”

“She’s only twenty-three and is already an associate manager?”

“She’s quite famously well-known in the company. For starters, she was a child prodigy that starred in many television shows to showcase her talents, and won countless academic prizes.” Jaemin continues to entertain Sunghoon’s hears as he continues to go over who this woman was. “She also is called the weirdo workaholic.”

Sunghoon observed her photo. She looked familiar to him yet he didn’t know from where.

“I don’t think the head office wants to let her transfer to our side of the business, but she insisted on applying.” Jaemin crosses his legs as he kept speaking. “I think they want you to reject her application.”

“Tell them we don’t need her if they don’t want to lose her.” Sunghoon adds, “I’d feel uncomfortable working with a weirdo workaholic anyway.”

Jaemin clears his throat before preparing to say, “Got it. But she must be really good since Jungwon has been showing up to the office to scout her everyday.”

“Tell her to transfer immediately.” Sunghoon pauses, “Who cares if she’s a bit weird, as long as she’s good at her job.” Sunghoon smiles at a shocked Jaemin.

“So do you want her as your executive assistant?”

“No, that would be a waste of her talents. Put her in marketing or sales.” Sunghoon proudly says.

You struggled while holding onto your boxes. You were finally moving departments in the company.

“Y/N, why don’t you stay?” Your former boss says as you bow at him. “You’re our youngest ever employee, youngest ever associate manager!”

You give him a smile before bowing one more time. “I’m okay.” You walked out of his office after that.

Your former boss always thought you were sort of unique compared to others. He started to wonder if you were just after the chairman’s son. Moon Y/N is scarier than I thought.

Sunghoon and Jaemin were on their way to the Park Empire building. “So are you going to meet the chairman?”

“My father? Why would I meet him when he forced me back into the business.” Sunghoon scoffs as he looks out the car window. “Does he keep bothering you? I’m sorry.”

Jaemin chuckles as one hand rested on the steering wheel. “It’s alright. It’s my job anyway.”

Jaemin glances at Sunghoon before asking, “How about Sato Maeji’s family? Did you visit them?”

Sunghoon stayed silent. He couldn’t visit your family after what happened. How could he show his face there?

My poor baby Maeji! I should’ve stopped you from going! Sunghoon specifically remembers these words coming out of your mothers’ mouth the day of your funeral.

Sunghoon shook this feeling away. He didn’t want to look back ay the past. Not anymore.

Time passed as you gathered all your belongings to your car as you waited to get information about your new office. You were filled with glee, you were basically skipping around in your head.

You walked by your now former co-workers at your department. “Y/N! I heard you’re transferring to the ice skating department. Why? That’s like a demotion.” Jimin says.

You nod as your former co-workers all unitedly gasp. You knew deep down they were glad that you were leaving. Imagine a young woman that just got out of college steals all their opportunities in one second, yeah that was you.

You excuse yourself and continue making your way to the Ice skating department. You were tired of hearing these people questioning every decision you make.

FOUR ✶ FIFTEENTH LIFE

Here you were, standing right in front of the Ice skating department. You haven’t felt like this for a long time. It was like something was punching the insides of your stomach except in a good way.

You knew this day would finally come. But, now that you’re finally here to see him, you feel uneasy.

You stand alone, observing the sign that read, Park Empire Ice Skates. You chuckle at this. You remember how much Sunghoon loved ice skating and swimming.

“Is that him? Is that the new managing director?” You jump hearing two girls speaking behind you. “Yeah that’s the chairmans son.”

You shifted your eyes to the door and see two men walking through the door. You knew one of them had to be Sunghoon.

You rush inside expecting to see Sunghoon but no sight of him seemed to be found. You sigh to yourself. It’s okay, i’ll have many more opportunities to speak to him.

You made your way to your new office and introduce yourself to your new co-workers.

You felt butterflies deep in your stomach. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening. You were finally going to meet him again.

“Hi! I’m Ning Yizhou,” a shorter female suddenly says, interrupting you from your thoughts. “Hi, i’m Moon Y/N.” You give her a warm smile.

“I know who you are, you’re like famous.” She says, taking your hands and shaking them up and down.

You chuckle. “Also, there’s going to be a welcoming party for the new director so don’t miss out!” Yizhou smiles before walking off.

Bingo. You found easy access to fake a natural way to meet him.

The day came to an end. You made your way to the parking garage to find your car. You felt like today had somewhat been successful.

“I’ll go get those documents.” You hear a male voice speak from a distance. There you see him. You see him standing alone. This is your chance Y/N.

You were about to walk over til you were interrupted by a truck screeching its tires. The next thing you see is Sunghoon on the ground covering his ears and panicking.

You run over to the male, immediately stopping a few steps from him. You slowly clack your heels on the ground making your way to him.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” You say.

Sunghoon turns his head quickly. Memories of Maeji asking, Do you need help? When he was struggling to grab a book flashed before his eyes.

You froze. It really was him. You were standing in front of your last love.

We finally meet again, Sunghoon.

“Are you feeling unwell?” You offer a hand to the male. He glances up at you after realizing his hearing and vision came back.

“That’s alright.” He says as he got up from the ground. Sunghoon observes you once again. You looked familiar. Who was she again?

“Moon Y/N?” You suddenly hear a voice from behind you. It was Yang Jungwon. “Oh, Sunghoon. Wow, I can’t believe you’re really back.”

You and Sunghoon both turn to the male. “Sunghoon, where have you been? It’s so hard to get a hold of you these days.” Jungwon continued. “Here are two people who keep ignoring my calls. How funny.”

You stood there awkwardly. Did they know each other? The tension seemed to be high between them.

“Can you hear me Sunghoon? Or do I need to get closer like before?” Jungwon steps closer to Sunghoon. He was aggravating him on purpose.

“You needed to speak to me right Jungwon?” You barge in between the two, separating them.

Why was Jungwon being such a pain in the ass right now? He usually is annoying but he’s being too much, especially to the man you were going to marry.

Okay maybe you are being a little delusional but point still stands.

Sunghoon gets a message, I need you up here now. And so he leaves, “Where are you going Sunghoon.” Jungwon questions, trying to move closer to the male but you interfere again.

“I thought you wanted to speak to me?” You say, pulling him toward your direction.

Jungwon raises a brow at you, “This is strange. This is the first time you’ve taken interest in talking to me.” He crosses his arms in disbelief.

“I couldn’t help but notice you and Sunghoon,” you pause, “I mean, the managing director, dont seem to be on great terms.”

“Really? What gave you that idea because I’ve known him since we were kids! I was just checking up on my buddy.” Jungwon says.

If you were concerned about him, you wouldn’t have spoken to him like that. Jungwon was getting on your last nerve but you held yourself back.

“I haven’t seen the two of you together before, but even I could tell that you were getting on his nerves, Mr. Yang.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but notice how angry you looked. Why were you so angry? Why were you sticking up for him?

Jungwon scoffs, “To be honest, I feel betrayed. You turned me down time and time again, and now you’re just at the ice skating empire?”

“I haven’t moved companies, I’m still under the Park Empire.” You shot back at him.

“Well doesn’t matter because I’ve given you better opportunities than the situation you’re in right now. It’s even worse than your last one.” Jungwon fought, crossing his arms.

“He’s here.” You interrupted him again. Jungwon sends you a confused look, “The person I want to meet.”

Jungwon silently chuckles, “You know sometimes when I talk to you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You begin to walk away before turning one last time, “I don’t say things for your benefit so please stop seeing me.”

Jungwon felt defeated by you again. He always knew you were quite the character but Jungwon wasn’t dumb. The strange words you’ve said finally clicked in his head. The boy you were searching for was Sunghoon.

He hated knowing this. He also hated how much you rejected him and how his old childhood friend Sunghoon has you wrapped around his finger.

LAST INTERLUDE ✶ 박성훈 PART TWO

✶ LATRII | 2O23.

PERM TAGLIST | @wtfhyuck @baekhyunstruly @strwberrydinosaur @xiaoderrrr @luvlee1313 @ensrfm @yenqa @enhapocketz @flwoie @hajimelvr @redm4ri

219 notes · View notes

portaltothevoid · 5 months

Text

hypothetically….

what if… there was an enemies to lovers, slow burn, mafia au fic… the ghafia, if you will… starring (dark) copia… what if i discovered the canon fact of copia having a gun… and i took that and ran.

and, hypothetically of course, there was an OC named arianna diodati who’s copia’s (very catholic) rival’s daughter… and he uses her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants…

and, also hypothetically, he becomes hellbent on corrupting her catholic ways….

then what if i told you… this was coming soon, very soon and there’s a teaser below the cut… 👀

and…. maybe…. chapters 1 & 2 of “God Called In Sick Today” can be found right here

trigger warnings for series include (but won’t be limited to): angst, abusive relationship, violence, gun use, kidnapping, blood, religious trauma, corruption kink, eventual smut, enemies to lovers, slow burn, dark romance

~~~~~~

Arianna never liked the Emeritus family. In fact, she borderline hated them with their menacingly painted faces and blasphemous way of life. She never quite understood how they rose to rival that of her family. Perhaps they really did make a deal with the devil.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said quietly. Alessio just waved her off, her father already in a passionate discussion regarding something she could care less about.

She made her way to the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “Your usual, Ms. Diodati?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled.

It wasn’t long until she felt a pair of eyes on her from the other end of the bar. She looked up to see Copia, the ringleader of the Satanic circus, staring her down like a hunter watching its prey. It sent a shiver down her spine, but all he saw was the scowl that encapsulated her face. That only made him smirk at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, though, when she knew his attention was back on someone that wasn’t her, she couldn’t help herself from taking in his appearance. She hated to admit, he looked… elegant. His burgundy pants were impossibly tight in all the right ways. It pained her to acknowledge the way they perfectly hugged his thighs. He had foregone his suit jacket, leaving just his matching burgundy vest and black dress shirt and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see his muscles flex as he grabbed his drink.

Her eyes lingered for a few seconds too long. This time, he caught her watching him. His mouth curled up again into a sly half-smile as he took a drink. His dichromatic eyes never left her. The instant her drink hit the counter, she brought it to her lips and weaved her way through everyone back to Alessio in hopes of putting distance between her and whatever exchange had just taken place.

~~~~~~

thoughts? if this sounds like something you’d want to dive into… let me know in a comment you want to be added to the tag list!

#fic teaser #copia x oc #copia #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #popia #copia smut #copia angst #mafia au #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #the band ghost fanfiction #copia emeritus #ghost copia #popia copia #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv x oc

98 notes · View notes

holyghostbelle · 2 months

Text

all those vile things

dannyjohnson!ghostface x reader blessed with quick wit and and a long list of medication your beginning to think being obsessed with a stalker couldn't be more healthier

09’

You lie back and smoke a cigarette, a bottle of jack in your hand spilling on the oversized band t-shirt you wore fished out from a thrift store from some tour you never got tickets for. Your eyes are glued to the tv, yet half interested in the House of a 1000 corpses movie rented out from blockbuster 2 months ago, There's ash on your notepad, not that you had taken any notes yourself, you take to sipping and gulping down any intoxicating beverage you can get your hands on these days, you're on the edge from the local killer.

(kind of, but not really you hope he stabs you with his knife and then licks it up, it's more of an excuse to get intoxicated and then pass out to an episode of dateline)

You rip open a pack of m&ms with your teeth and that guy from the office dies, his body is turned into a fish and you laugh maniacally as the dumb girls run into a room with another killer, and then Otis has corpse paint on and as much as his sideburns disgust you but you can't help feeling attracted to the guy, you feel sick at the thought of being oddly aroused but it's okay because its not real! and it's not like you fantasising about ted bundy or anything, but you did stalk the true crime tag on tumblr and find a bunch of fan edits with flower crowns. You fall asleep on the sofa and then wake up at 3 in the morning. Moving to the comfort of your bed which is only 5 feet away from the small second hand cracked leather sofa, you toss and turn until you're stuck on your back, hands unable to grip the sheets as you watch black oozing from the ceiling, you imagine its sentient and can peer into your brain and witness how sick you truly are, and then you wake up and it's 8am, you go to college in the clothes from last night, your laces are undone and you trip over them on the street while inhaling a cigarette and drinking a monster energy drink, it spills onto denim and leaves a small sticky wet patch.

You fell asleep in your film studies class, seven different people had all chosen ‘twin peaks:fire walk with me’ to write an essay on. You laugh as they speak nonsensically about Laura Palmer and how the movie was more about discovering who she was than how she was murdered, it's all the same recycled garbage you said a year ago, back when your professor was that feminist guy. You picture Dale Cooper in a red room, you remember when the constant jokes from the simpsons, you think about Laura Palmer's cold blue body on the beach wrapped in plastic and then how david lynch left the show and it all became fucked up. Someone drones on about American psycho and how the murders were in his head.

You leave class, smoke a cigarette outside in the parking lot and lean against your beat up car. Your cracked ipod nano plays Jeff Buckley and Elliott Smith simultaneously and then some 80s song you used to be so obsessed with and it reminds you of how your ex drove you home after you broke up with him, how his hand gripped yours and you didn't hold it back. You don't sob like usual. You don't think about how he was so angry he held your neck without squeezing, just to look you in the eyes and call you a bitch.

You fidget with your dungarees and then drive to work. Leaning against the counter as you watch kids flick through comics and then flick though vinyls laughing at covers with girls with their huge tits out, and then looking at the r-rated movies with eyes and needles. Then leaving a mess and stepping out of the shop without buying anything. You steal a pack of gum from the display in front of you and change the cassette to the b side, you repeat this till it's 8pm and dark outside.

Then it's time to close up the shop, shutting the blinds, switching off all the lights, you close and lock the front door with the keys, and shove them deep into your pocket. It's a cold and icy night. You pull the vintage motorcycle jacket you stole from your ex around your shoulders and light a cigarette. Walking around the side of the shop deep into the alleyway to get your car from the employee car park behind all the shops, you stop in your tracks. Gravel kicking against the wall.

Theres a whine and a moan and you almost think someones fucking until you notice the trail of blood that leads exactly to the body in the corner, who ever it is put up a fight. There's a man clambering over him, a camera swinging to the side of his body as you watch him cut deep into his chest,his guts spill intestines falling out into the concrete like confetti, you hear it slap to the floor. You feel sick.

The body looks at you pleading and begging with its eyes and he moans, your eyes widen and the man with the camera looks directly at you, his masked face cocking to the side in curiosity, you shake and look over to your car which is and i say this lightly, funnily enough right next to the killer and his victim. Blood coating the exterior. Bloody streaks over the silver paint, you almost feel bad for yourself knowing how much it's gonna cost to clean the blood off your car. It's selfish really. Consider there a man choking on his own blood right in front of you.

You think about backing away and running…but you stand frozen and watch the man bleed out, his blood pouring out like an afterthought. White masked man snaps a photo, and then another he slashes at the victim's throat, the life drains quickly out of his eyes and you watch him take one last ragged breath as his eyes tell you to run as fast as you can.

Then he turns his black eyes and gaping jaw keeping you in place, his leather gloved hand shushes at you as he approaches like a predator to his prey.

You.

Your heart thumps against your chest. He pushes you to the brick wall, you whine at how harsh you hit it. He takes the cigarette out of your hand leather brushing against your coldfinger tips and presses it to your mouth.

‘Go on, smoke it’ His voice is gravely and deep.

You puff on the cancerous stick, you picture him smiling under the mask. He stares at you through mesh eyes. Your hands are scratching at the brick wall behind you.

How many minutes do you have left? Will he leave you to bleed, or watch?

Suddenly there's a knife against your throat. It's cold and unforgiving and you've forgotten how to breathe. It brushes to just under your chin and then it's tracing against your cheek, you whimper as it catches, a bead of blood rolling down, he catches it with his thumb and smears it on your lips, cigarette falling to the floor, smoke exhaling as your eyes tear up. Your eyebrows furrow, eyes closing ready to meet your demise, cunt throbbing, as you feel the air against your neck, you wait for it to plunge your hands tight around your coat.

“Are you going to kill me?” you whimper, the knife trails deeper, to your sternum and you feel hot breath on your neck, there's a sniff and the zipper of your jacket catches and it pulled down, you don't dare look waiting in anticipation, you feel you him unbuckle your dungarees the denim falling to your crutch and then your t-shirt lifts up there's a pause, cold against your skin, cold air and then the steel slices into you with ease, you feel yourself lean over and his hand pushes your head back into the wall until your upright. It tears through quickly soiling your clothes with red sticky blood.

“If you're going to kill me, do it already” you whimper at him. His touch leaves you and you await for his hard hand to push the steel metal into you. It never comes.

Your eyes open slowly and he's gone, you stand for a minute and peek your eyes round the corner to stare at the body. Hand clutching at the wound he gave you, spanning four inches. Blood coating your hand.

You call the police obviously, you're questioned all night after you're all stitched up. you tell them about him approaching you, but not how he pressed his thumb to your lips and your cunt throbbed, you pretend it never happened. You pretend that you pushed him off and got scared, sparing you.

They let you go at 12pm, an officer drives you back to your apartment, your crappy silver car is marked as a crime scene. You call up Adam and tell him you're not going to be in the next day due to the whole ‘stabbing incident’ he wishes you well.

You take two sleeping pills and drink the rest of the whiskey from the other night, you throw up at the thought of the body in front of you. The pills come up half dissolved with it. You fall asleep to a rerun of Criminal Minds and dream of Spencer Reid finding you tied up in the basement somewhere,

He kisses you gently and combs back his horribly long parted greasy hair with his hand. He starts to recite a chapter of wuthering heights “'Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?”, it turns to pure gibberish in your mind and you sigh at him as he takes your soft cheeks in his hands tenderly lips tracing your neck in soft kisses and then he rips out your throat with his teeth, you bleed out all over the basement floor as he kisses your neck and revels with enjoyment in your blood. White pressed shirt soaked in maroon.

Your eyes open and you're stuck to your sofa, your tv flickers over and over, and the masked man appears within the metal box, the tv screen flickers in fuzzy blacks and whites. He's covered in blood and it's blackened with age.cavernous eyes and unhinged jaw. He taps against the screen and waves the knife in his hand. You pant against your leather sofa bare arms suck to the couch with sweat, itchy hot. His hand reaches outwards to pull himself out and then he's on top of you, his knife slicing through the flesh on your bare legs and chest as you're forced to endure it in your frozen state. You close your eyes as his arms lift to plunge the knife in deep, when they open the street lights flicker off through the window. mesh curtains drifting in the wind.

You awake again a blanket thrown over your body haphazardly, your phone tells you it's 6 in the morning. You smoke a cigarette on your fire exit and watch the sunrise, you remember to not take sleeping pills with alcohol.

You look in the mirror and pick at the scab on your cheek, it drools with blood and you push it into your lips again, imagining it's his hand, you don't scold yourself this time, you tell yourself you'll never see him again. Then you lift your shirt and stare at the gash he left you, blood still smeared around the edges of the huge plaster they gave you at the hospital. You brush your teeth and spit out blood and teeth. When you blink all you see is the foamy toothpaste down the sink, you think you're going mad, its stress you tell yourself it's nothing to worry about. You open your wardrobe and black slime oozes out of it.

Your mom phones you at 8 before class, you tell her you're fine (your not)that you've been going to therapy(you haven't) that you've stopped drinking(likely chance)that that article she read on her phone was correct and you did see that killer that's been going round but your safe you promise( this is true, but your not safe, not even from yourself)

You head to college again and ignore the rumours going around about how you got stabbed by the killer, people ask about the scratch on your face and you tell them it was your cat that you don't own.

You go back home and cry at a video of a rat dancing in the rain, you scratch at the cut on your face until it bleeds again with your hand in between your thighs, stomach aching as you crumble into a shit position,you think about that night until you come over and over in your bed, sheets sticking to your body with sweat. You take a shower and close your eyes under the burning hot water, you catch your knee while using a cheap men’s razor shaving and watch the blood run into the water like psycho, you watch a western movie on tv, James dean rides a horse with a cigarette hanging out his mouth as he smirks in black and white.

You don't take a sleeping pill that night and stare into the popcorn ceiling until you witness cosmic horror beyond your own belief, you face stares back at you and then its eyes are torn from its head, you watch a body be exsanguinated and then flayed and sewn back together again and blood is pumped back into your body, you see that boys body as a car drives past, the way the blood trailed down his neck like a red scarf.

You fall asleep to sirens and screams.

It is Florida after all

#ghostface #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #dbd #did fic #ghostface x reader #slasher + you #slasher x reader #jed olson x reader

53 notes · View notes