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girlgenius1111 · 2 days

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barça x reader young barça reader has an allergic reaction for the first time obviously, descriptions of a severe allergic reaction, use of epi pen, vomiting, etc.

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The day had gone as you had expected it to. Until it didn’t. Vicki Lopez being the voice of reason and calm in an emergency situation was not something you expected, either.

Normally, Vicki was a bit of a troublemaker. It wasn’t entirely her fault; most of the younger girls could be trouble when they wanted to be. Vicki, though, could get away with anything. Maybe it was her age, or maybe it was the soft spot Alexia had for her. Either way, your captains didn’t hesitate to scold you, or Jana, or Pina for a harmless prank. When Vicki was the culprit, though, they would fight back smiles and shake their heads affectionately at the young forward.

But while Vicki got away with everything, she was also very responsible. A fact that you were incredibly thankful for; her calmness and ability to think clearly in an emergency saved your life.

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Double training sessions were not anyone’s favorite thing. Alright, maybe Alexia loved them, but she was Alexia. It was a nice day out, though, and while most of the older girls had headed inside during the break, most of the younger girls stayed outside, basking in the warm sun. The film session was due to begin shortly, but you all were trying to enjoy the fresh air before you had to retreat inside to the stuffy media room.

You were content to just lay on the pitch with your eyes closed, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards today. Not when you very suddenly heard a loud buzzing sound in your ear, causing you to sit bolt upright and look around.

“Falling asleep, pequeña?” Salma teased.

You shook your head, looking around suspiciously. It was no secret that you hated bugs. Hated them. And one had evidently been close enough to your body for you to hear the buzzing sound it made. A flash of yellow caught your eye, and you stayed watching it until you realized what it was. A bee. Flying towards the bench planted in the grass. Actually, flying underneath it. The bee flew up, and you leaned forward a bit, trying to see where it had gone.

Then, you jumped backwards, almost flopping onto Jana’s legs.

“Off pequeña, it is hot today.” She complained, shoving you away from her.

“Jana!” You shrieked, scrambling further away from the bench. “There’s a bee hive underneath the bench, don’t push me back towards it.”

“A bee hive?” Jana asked, sitting up and looking at you seriously. “Oh my god, Ona-”

You looked at Ona, who also looked concerned, pulling her phone out of her pocket and holding it to her ear. “Hello? Mr. President? There is a beehive on the Barça training grounds, you have to send the army in.”

Your face burned as you rolled your eyes at your friends. “Alright, haha, I get it.” You rose to your feet, intending to walk away from your friends, but Jana stood too, lightly pushing you towards the bench.

“Watch out pequeña, the bee might eat your head right off your body!”

“I have heard Spanish bees can chew right through bone!” Vicki added. Everyone was laughing around you, and you shook your head, fighting back a smile. You knew they were just teasing, and you weren’t upset by it.

“Fine. Get stung. I don’t care.” You declared.

“I’ll go find someone to get rid of it.” Ona said kindly, though a slightly teasing smile adorned her freckled features, too. She walked away, and you were promptly distracted by Jana lunging for you, jokingly trying to push you back towards the hive. This time, though, you stumbled slightly and fell onto the ground much closer to the bench than you would’ve liked to get.

“Sorry, nena,” Jana said sincerely, holding out a hand to help you up. It hadn’t been her intention to make you fall. Just as you reached to take her hand, though, you felt a sharp sting on your arm.

“Ow! Fuck,” you shouted, your head whipping down just in time to see the offending bee fall away into the grass under you. “It stung me.”

You scooted far away from the hive, closer to Cata, who laid motionless on the grass, not even cracking an eyelid open to look at you.

“Let me see.” Bruna asked, crouching down next to you and holding out a hand. You held your arm out, and the brunette inspected the small red mark on your skin. “Yeah, it got you. The stinger isn’t in there, though, so I'll just go get you a sting wipe. That should make it stop hurting.”

You thanked her, and Bruna headed off towards where she knew the nearest first aid kit to be.

“Pobrecita. Are you okay?” Jana asked, smiling at you. She was teasing, but you could tell she felt bad too.

“It really hurts, Fernandez. I’ll get you back for this.” you muttered angrily, holding your wounded arm close to your body. It really did hurt. More than you expected. You’d never been stung by a bee before, but you weren’t sure it was supposed to hurt this much; you felt an odd surge of anxiety rush through you, though you weren’t quite sure why.

“Don’t be dramatic pequeña, it’s just a little bee sting,” Jana laughed, not unkindly, turning away as Ona returned to say that the grounds crew would be out to look at the hive soon. “Bruni went to get the first aid kit, you’ll be fine.”

You nodded, even as the world around you seemed to slow a bit, as the feeling of anxiety within you grew. You knew your teammates were talking to each other, joking around, but they seemed far away. You knew you were outside, and there was tons of fresh air around, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen into your lungs. You looked down at your arm, and though it was a little hazy, you knew it had swelled, and the redness spreading across your skin wasn’t normal.

Desperately trying to inhale enough air, you turned to where Cata lay next to you, eyes closed as she basked in the warm sun.

“Cata?” You mumbled, reaching out a shaky hand to grab her hand.

One of the keeper’s eyes cracked open, and she sat up quickly seeing the look of fear on your face. “What is it?”

“I don’t feel good.” You said, holding out your arm for her to see. “It’s hard to breathe,”

“Fuck. Shit. Okay, okay,” Cata said, scooting closer to take your arm into her hands. She looked at it for a second, before looking at your face, which was growing red and splotchy as well. “Fuck. Jana, get a physio, get a captain, get someone, she’s having an allergic reaction,”

Cata said the words in a frighteningly calm tone, but everyone’s attention snapped to you, and it was only a moment before Jana was taking off at a full sprint towards the building,

“I have an epi pen,” Vicki shouted, looking frantically between the older girls, awaiting some instruction. Cata nodded at her, and that was all the younger girl needed before she was running after Jana.

Salma sat down on your other side, gently rubbing your back as it became clearer and clearer that something was really really wrong. You could barely get a breathe in, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to convince yourself that your throat was not closing up.

“Cata, what do we do?” Salma asked, seeing her own terror reflected on the normally easy going keeper’s face across from her.

“We keep her upright so it’s easier to breathe, and we stay calm because everything is fine, everything is fine,” Cata said quietly, pulling you to lean heavily against her. “Breathe, chica, as much as you can.” She reminded you, hearing as the wheeze in your chest grew more pronounced, and as your gasps for breath sped up.

“Cata, please help.” You gasped, reaching up to claw at your neck, completely in vain. It was swelling shut and there was nothing you could do. Your vision was growing dark around the edges and you fought to keep your eyes open as they tried to slide shut. Your body slumped down, Cata catching you just in time to ease the impact.

“Easy, easy. Stay awake, please, pequeña,” Cata insisted, tapping gently at your cheek.

You heard loud voices approaching, and just barely identified them as belonging to Alexia and Ingrid.

“What the fuck happened?” Alexia shouted, sprinting over to where you were now laid, your head in Cata’s lap. Ingrid was right behind her, with Jana bringing up the rear. Jana was crying, and Salma stood to pull her away slightly, trusting the older girls to take care of you.

“Bee sting. She was okay at first but then she was acting weird and she said she didn't feel good and her arm is swelling and I don’t think she can breathe,” Cata explained in a rush, looking wildly between Ingrid and Alexia, fully panicking now that your eyes had closed, and that there was more adult adults there to take control of the situation.

“She needs an epi pen, and someone needs to call an ambulance,” Ingrid stated.

“Vicki went to get hers.” Cata said.

“I’m calling right now,” Salma chimed in, looking over from where she stood a few feet away, one arm wrapped around a very distraught Jana, one holding her phone to her ear.

“Hey, nena? Can you open your eyes for me, cariño?” Alexia said softly, though you were mostly oblivious.

It was the warm hands on your face, tapping a bit more firmly now, that had you realizing your eyes had fallen shut. You forced them open, your inhales barely more than a rattling wheeze now to see Alexia leaning over you. She looked more scared than you’d ever seen her, which didn’t make you feel very reassured. It was comforting, though when she began to softly run her fingers across your forehead and down your cheek, a motion you focused on instead of the tightness of your throat.

“Good, good nena. You’re okay, everything is okay. Just try to stay awake for me okay? We’re getting you help, you just need to keep breathing.”

“Hard,” you croaked, your good arm shifting and blindly reaching for someone, for anyone, to anchor you to consciousness. Ingrid took your hand in hers, her face appearing next to Alexia’s.

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart, just keep trying. Vicki is coming right now with an epi pen. You’re gonna be okay, just keep your eyes open.” She cooed, her eyes looking suspiciously watery.

“Can’t,” you mumbled, eyes falling shut once again. This time, they didn’t flutter back open.

“Nena. Nena! Venga, chica, open your eyes,” Alexia said desperately, looking around frantically. She spotted Vicki in a dead sprint across the pitch.

“VICKI” Alexia shouted, for no other reason than to do something other than lean over your unconscious body. She couldn’t focus on that right now, nor could she focus on the way your chest had stopped heaving.

It was only seconds, really, but it felt like minutes, before Vicki made it to the group of panicked footballers. Alexia and Ingrid both held their hands out for the epi pen, though neither of them had ever used one in their life. Vicki took initiative, though, very calmly shoving Alexia out of the way and crouching at your side. She rolled your shorts up a bit, took the cap off the epi pen with her teeth, and thrust it at your leg without further thought, pressing the button on the end. Once the medication was dispensed, she dropped the pen onto the ground next to her, and sat back on her knees, her eyes fixed on you.

“That’s it?” Irene asked. Vicki looked around, nodding. A group of your teammates had followed the commotion out to the pitch, and now stood in a very tense group around you.

“Yeah. She’s breathing better already, she should be okay until the paramedics get here.” Vicki explained, a bit shocked at how little everyone seemed to know about allergic reactions and epi pens.

“She’s going to be okay?” Alexia asked anxiously.

“She should be. The paramedics are here, they’ll take care of her.” Vicki noted, nodding to where the ambulance was backing onto the field.

By the time the paramedics had pushed everyone away and began to get an oxygen mask on your face, you started to wake up. As your eyes blinked open, seeing two strangers hovering over your body, you were extremely disoriented. Not just disoriented, but panicked. You couldn’t remember what had happened, where you were, why you were lying on the ground, or why your whole body seemed to hurt. You tried to push the stranger away from you with your hand, but it was shaking too much to really do anything.

“Hey, relax, you’re alright. We’re here to help.” The man said, pushing your arm back onto the grass under you. You squirmed nervously, a quiet sob falling from your mouth. Suddenly, a familiar face appeared above yours, and you relaxed almost instantly.

“You’re okay pequeña, I’m right here.” Alexia soothed. You felt her hands on your face, keeping you pressed down onto the grass.

“Ale,” you cried, your voice barely more than a croaking gasp. The feelings of panic in your body were intense, like anxiety was coursing through your veins instead of blood.

“You’re okay.” Alexia repeated. “You got stung by a bee, and you had an allergic reaction. The paramedics are taking care of you.”

You relaxed slightly, letting Alexia take your hand in hers. She coached you to breathe deeply, batting your free hand away when you tried to push the oxygen mask off your face.

“No, no, that has to stay on for now.” She told you, feeling hysterical laughter bubble up inside of her at the disgruntled look on your face. You flinched when they placed an IV in your hand, a few tears falling from your flushed face into the grass. Once the IV was in, they were moving you into the back of the ambulance. You caught a glimpse of the entire team watching on nervously, and you felt another surge of panic rushing through you when you realized Alexia wasn’t by your side anymore. You tried to sit up, but you were too weak to do so. Instead, you removed the mask from your face, craning your neck as you looked around for your captain.

“Ale?!” you croaked.

You had been slid into the back of the ambulance fully when Alexia appeared at your side again.

“I’m here, nena.”

“Can you stay? Please?” You requested tearfully, relieved when Alexia took a seat on the bench next to you. As the ambulance began its journey to the hospital, you focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand holding tightly to yours, and the incessant questions she was firing at the poor paramedic. It was a bumpy ride that had your stomach turning before long, and you struggled to sit up, yanking the oxygen mask off. Your face had gone completely white as you looked around frantically.

And though Alexia looked confused, trying to guide you back to lay down, the paramedic seemed to have been expecting this, and held a sick bag out in front of you. Your throat still felt tight and scratchy from before, and throwing up felt more uncomfortable than normal. You whimpered as you were sick, unable to hide your intense feelings of discomfort.

“You’re okay, pequeña,” Alexia soothed, as she continued to rub your back, and you would have been embarrassed if you were in any other state. She looked, panicked, at the paramedic, every new symptom worrying her further.

“It’s alright, this is completely normal. Her body is just reacting to the allergen and the epinephrine.” She assured your captain. “I can’t give her anything for nausea until we get to the hospital.”

Alexia nodded, turning her attention back to you. You pushed the sick bag away, collapsing back onto the gurney and weakly reaching out for the blonde’s hand again. You sobbed and covered your face with your other hand, feeling so incredibly horrific, you could barely think. You would have explained it as feeling like you were dying, if you hadn’t just experienced that feeling a few minutes ago. Your body felt like it was caving in on itself, though, and the blonde next to you could tell you were starting to freak out.

“Shh, nena. Just breathe, in and out.”

“Ale, I really don’t feel good,” you cried. Alexia nodded sympathetically; she could tell. Your face was as white as a sheet, you had broken out into a sweat though you were shivering violently. You looked so miserable and uncomfortable, tears pooling in your eyes, as you looked helplessly up at your captain.

“I know, cariño. We’re almost at the hospital, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on breathing. Another minute passed, another minute of your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could hear it pounding in your ears, the anxiety building inside of you with every passing second. It wasn’t getting better. If anything, it was getting worse, and you weren’t sure you could cope with it for any longer.

With a whimper, you reached out to Alexia, clinging onto her shirt.

“What is it, pequeña? Are you going to be sick again?” She asked, frowning when you shook your head.

“My- my heart is beating so fast, I don’t, I can’t,”

“That’s the epinephrine.” The paramedic told you sympathetically, grabbing something from her side and injecting it into the IV. “This might make you a bit sleepy, but it should slow your heart rate down.”

It made you really sleepy. Your eyes fluttered shut almost as soon as it hit your bloodstream. You were in and out for the rest of the ambulance ride. Everytime you cracked your eyes open, you were comforted to see Alexia next to you.

Alexia tried not to panic when you dozed off, knowing it was probably for the better that you sleep now, instead of being forced to stay awake through the worst of the side effects from what had occurred.

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You awoke slowly, looking around blearily as you came too. There was still an oxygen mask sitting on your face, but your chest didn’t feel as tight as it had before. It was significantly easier to breathe, and though your body still ached, it wasn’t as pronounced.

“Hey, nena.” Alexia cooed, appearing in your line of vision as soon as you moved your hand that was resting in hers. “How are you feeling?”

“I-” you coughed, throat too dry to get any words out. Another face appeared in front of you, and a straw was being pressed to your lips. Ingrid watched you drink the water with great concern, her eyes creased with worry. “I’m okay.”

“You’re sure? You can breathe okay?” Irene asked, a third face leaning down over the bed.

It was getting claustrophobic, and you leaned back a bit. “I can breathe. I’m fine.”

They all seemed to deflate at that, giving relieved sighs and moving back to their respective chairs.

“You scared us, nena.” Irene said quietly.

You nodded, a frown on your face. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, elskling, don’t be sorry. That wasn’t your fault, not at all.”

You shrugged, trying to pull your hand away from Alexia’s in order to reach for the water cup in Ingrid’s hand.

“What? What is it? What do you need? I can do it.” Alexia said, leaning forward anxiously and holding your hand tighter in hers.

You gave her a strange look. “I just want the water?”

“I got it!” Ingrid said, once again holding the straw to your lips. All three women watched as you took a sip, and their overbearing concern was beginning to get to you.

“You guys, I’m fine. Relax.”

“No.” Alexia said sternly.

“No?” You echoed.

“No, I will not relax. I will hover if I want to.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching up to scratch at your face. Alexia caught your hand again, as all three women leaned forward.

“What do you need?” They all said, in complete unison.

You sighed, letting Alexia scratch your forehead for you. There was no use arguing. Once your teammates set their minds on being protective, there wasn’t anything you could do to change it.

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The rest of the team stopped by throughout the day, with your younger friends coming in only an hour before you were set to be released. They joked around with you, though clearly they were overcome with thinly veiled relief. They were worried, and you understood why.

You were preoccupied, though. Because while every one of your teammates had come to see you, one had yet to speak.

Jana stood in the doorway of the hospital room like coming any closer would set off some kind of alarm. You looked at her, repeatedly, but she refused to meet your gaze, her eyes fixed on her feet.

You exchanged a look with Alexia who was making sure your friends didn’t get too rowdy. The captain tried to engage Jana in conversation for a few minutes, but only got shrugs and one word answers. The room fell into a slightly awkward silence as the tension grew, and all you wanted to do was get out of the stupid hospital bed and pull Jana into a hug. You would settle for her speaking to you, though, and your captain evidently had the same idea.

“Alright. She needs to rest. Everyone out.” Alexia declared, beginning to shoo everyone from the room. She caught Jana’s elbow before she could go, too, though, stopping her from leaving.

Even when the room emptied, and it was just the three of you, Jana refused to raise her head.

“Jana.” Alexia murmured, pulling the defender further into the room. “Come on, cariño.”

The brunette took a deep breath, before she looked up at you, eyes filled with tears. “I am so sorry.”

“Jana, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She cried, throwing her hands up in the air, and shaking off the hug Alexia tried to pull her into. “I almost killed you. It is not okay. You almost died and it was my fault.”

“That could have happened to anybody. You could have pushed Ona or Bruna or Cata. It was a freak accident.”

“But it happened to you.” Jana said miserably.

You shook your head, feeling guilty that she felt so guilty. “And I’m fine! Jana, come here.” Alexia half dragged the defender over to the chair next to your bed and you grabbed her hand as soon as she was within reach. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t even know. We were just joking around, like we always do. You didn't do anything wrong, Jana, and I’m not mad.”

She looked up at you, looking so unlike her usual joyful self. “You aren’t mad?”

“No.” You insisted. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. Now we know, and I can push you in front of any incoming bees.”

Jana huffed out a laugh, wiping a stray tear away. Alexia was looking at you proudly, rather touched at how kind you were being to Jana, who was clearly a mess at the moment.

“Can I carry one of your epi pens?” Jana asked.

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I am getting one for everyone on the team.” Alexia said seriously, causing you and Jana to giggle even harder. “What?! We have to be prepared!”

You groaned, though you weren’t really upset. How much your teammates cared about you would never really be a bother. It was something you hadn’t really had in your life until you arrived in Barça, and it wasn’t something you’d trade for the world. Even if it came with very frequent teasing, and even more frequent overprotectiveness.

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ive been agonizing over this for so long and i strongly dislike it but i hope you guys like it more than i do 🫶🏻🙂

also i have only gone into anaphylaxis once and i was like 6 but this is pretty much what i remember + some help from google.

#barcelona femeni x reader #barça femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

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corrodedbisexual · 2 days

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Modern-ish Steddie AU where they meet in jail.

Steve shouldn't even be here; he got arrested for shoplifting, but it was all a misunderstanding. He was actually trying to prevent a shoplifting when he saw a couple of kids stuffing chocolate bars into their jacket pockets. They bolted, and he chased after them; unfortunately, he was still holding a bottle of (rather expensive) wine in hand as he did that, so he ended up the perceived cause of the blaring store alarm while the two shitheads escaped with zero consequences.

The store's got security cameras. So it will probably be fine, right? It will all be resolved soon enough. Steve just has to wait.

What makes him more nervous is the guy he's sharing the cell with.

Wild curly hair, tattoos all over his exposed arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt, the man wears orange like he was born in it. He seems to be about Steve's age, in his early 20s, but it's hard to tell. When Steve's brought in, he's lounging carelessly on his bed, trying to fold a piece of toilet paper into what looks like a crane.

The guy looks dangerous; who knows what could provoke him. Steve just settles quietly into the corner of his own bed at the opposite wall, drawing his knees up to his chin and trying to keep his head down. Literally.

Except every time he glances up, the man's rather intense stare is on him. Five minutes into this awkward silence, Steve can't handle it anymore, so he clears his throat and speaks up, still choosing to look at the floor.

"So, uh... what are you in for?"

He cringes immediately. It's probably the worst possible question to ask, and one most likely to get you a punch in the face. But when Steve looks up, he finds his cellmate fully grinning, now busying himself with tearing the toilet paper into little bits.

"Oh, just a bit of murder," he answers casually. "Our lord Satan requires sacrifice, you know."

Steve's almost convinced the guy's fucking with him (because surely, murder suspects are placed in separate cells from the minor offense folk, right?) but he's still a little terrified.

The guy (Eddie, Steve finally learns the name, although that might not be a real one) keeps talking, throwing balls of paper into the toilet by the wall. He keeps missing; there's little bits of white all over the floor already.

He says he's been to prison twice. Grand theft auto and arson. Escaped both times, apparently. He's planning an escape right now, too. Goes on, with a manic grin and wild gestures, about how one of the guards is actually a member of his cult, has got him covered.

It all has to be bullshit. It has to be. Steve doesn't dare comment on it, because at the small chance that it's actually true, he's fucked if he pisses this guy off.

A single paper ball finally lands inside the toilet, and Eddie whoops so loudly that Steve almost jumps.

"Aaaand the crowds cheer, boys'n'girls all going wild screaming his name!" Eddie yells, rapidly drumming his palms on his thighs. "It's the rising star of the new hot game of pottyball, it's Eddieee Munsooon!"

Yeah, so whatever the man was or wasn't lying about, Steve's not about to engage. Eddie's clearly all kinds of insane, he thinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as the guy, seemingly over his silly little game, starts wrapping the toilet paper around his head like a turban.

Except five minutes later, Eddie apparently decides that Steve's much better entertainment than toilet paper. He rolls off the bed and strolls across the tiny cell, stopping right in front of Steve, who in turn is doing his best to become one with the concrete wall behind him. With a shit-eating grin, Eddie strikes a pose, hip jutted out and one hand trying to keep the unsteady headgear in place.

"D'you think I look like a beautiful prince, Stevie?" He asks, batting his eyelashes. (Oh god, why did Steve tell him his real name, what was he thinking.) "Would you go on a magic carpet ride with me?"

Steve can't help it. He bursts out laughing. It almost sounds like Eddie's trying to flirt with him, except Steve stands by his insane conviction, because who the fuck flirts like that?!

The laughter doesn't seem to deter Eddie. He's grinning even wider now, and then he plants both hands on the bed on each side of Steve and leans in, tilting his head.

"Well aren't you pretty when you smile, princess."

Cold sweat runs down the back of Steve's neck as a sudden implication of what might be happening here hits him. He's only heard about it from like, movies and stuff, but does this actually happen? Oh shit. Is Steve gonna become this guy's prison bitch? Jail bitch, technically?

What's worse, a tiny voice in Steve's head suggests that maybe it's not so bad, actually. Eddie's a lunatic, but at least he's hot. (Really hot, if Steve's honest with himself.) And terrifying, so nobody would mess with Steve so long as he's Eddie's... whatever.

Thankfully, Steve's saved from further contemplating his hypothetical future prison life by a key rattling in the cell's lock; Eddie immediately leans back and jumps across the room, so by the time Chief Hopper steps through the door, he's already sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands folded in his lap, a picture of pure innocence.

Hopper turns to Steve first, something apologetic in his voice as he says, "We viewed the security camera footage, you're free to go, Harrington."

With a relieved huff, Steve scrambles to get up. Meanwhile, Hopper turns his attention to Eddie, regards the half-fallen-apart ridiculousness on his head, rolls his eyes and heaves a tired-sounding sigh.

"You too, Munson. Next time someone dares you to streak through a public space, just pick truth instead, would ya?"

Ten minutes later, they both walk outside in their street clothes. Well, Steve's in his street clothes; Eddie's only garment is a thin grey medical blanket Hopper's helpfully provided him with. Eddie's wrapped it around himself like a toga.

"So..." Steve turns to him and smirks. "How much exactly of what you said in there was total bullshit?"

Eddie cackles at the question. "I'd say about... ninety percent. I clearly am a rising star of pottyball, you know." He waits a beat for Steve to laugh, then adds, "And you do have a very pretty smile."

Steve bites his lip, feeling heat in his cheeks at the compliment. In the light of day, outside the cell, it's like he sees Eddie for the first time, in his silly blanket toga, squinting at the bright sunlight. And he feels ridiculous about ever thinking this man could be dangerous. Insane? Probably. Full of shit? Oh, definitely. Hot? Yes, very much. Dangerous though? Laughable.

And so, Steve finds himself asking, "Wanna get coffee and tell me something real about yourself?"

Eddie looks surprised by the offer, his smile turning a little bashful, and he hides behind a lock of hair before looking down at himself and chuckling.

"I'm probably gonna need some clothes first."

"Nah," Steve teases, briefly checking him out. "You're rocking this outfit."

"And you're absolutely right, I am, but unfortunately this thing is about five seconds from falling apart," Eddie pointedly fixes the half-loosened knot on his shoulder. "And something tells me Hopper won't be so lenient about repeated public indecency."

Steve giggles and finally takes pity on the guy. "Okay, my car's parked, like, two blocks from here. I have some clean gym clothes you can borrow."

"Lead the way, pretty boy," Eddie grins and follows him with a goofy little twirl.

Divider credit

#steddie #steddie fic #this is very silly #misha-bawlins fanfic

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actuallysaiyan · 3 days

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The Beast Inside Of Me(Incubus!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, AU, Incubus, demons, slight dub-con, oral(fem receiving), slight yandere vibes, creampie finish, mentions of passing out/fainting, vaginal fingering word count: 3.2k pairings: Incubus!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: Kento has been searching for his mate for a long time, and he finds out it's you. Incubi don't usually mate with humans, so he's desperate to make it work. a/n: not sure if it's the demon who possessed me or the Earthbound OST that made me write this, but here it is and I realllyyy hope you all enjoy!! Some dividers by @/benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento

@seireiteihellbutterfly @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa

@darkstarlight82 @melisuh123. @galactict3a

@erebus-et-eigengrau @aomi04 @isabelzoldyck

@cinnamon-girl-writes @felixmr @typicalemo. @entirelysein-e

Want to be a part of the taglist? Join here!(Please have age indicator in bio!)

You’ve seen that handsome face before. In your dreams, where you thought you were just imagining things. But now that you’re awake and looking at the man(or so you think)sitting on the edge of the bed, you aren’t sure if this is just another dream or figment of your imagination. When he looks over at you, he looks so incredibly sad. The sorrow in his features is so apparent, you feel the sadness deep inside you.

“Are you…” your own voice scares you. “Are you real?”

He looks at you once more. His hazel eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness of your room. Then you see his wings expanding, creating an interesting shadowlike surrounding. Your eyes widen a little as he climbs out the window and you watch him fly away. You’re stunned by the sight.

Lying back on your bed, you try to calm your breathing. That was a dream, right? It had to have been. There aren’t handsome creatures with wings that just casually hang out in your room. That doesn’t happen. It really just doesn’t happen at all.

You pull the covers up to your chin, curling it in your fist. You think you’ll never be able to go to sleep again, but soon your eyes flutter shut and your mind is filled with the most pleasant dreams.

When you wake up, you chalk it all up to some silly dream and being extremely tired. You go about your day like nothing happened. Meanwhile, the creature you saw in your bedroom is suffering in silence. He has finally found his human mate, which is you.

He’s suffering because he knows he could never court you properly. He’s suffering because he knows you would reject him if he were to approach you and explain the situation. He invades your dreams as much as possible because it’s the only way he’s able to see you and feel you and touch you and taste you…

Being alive for so long has its perks, but it also becomes so lonely. All the other incubi and succubi from his pack have already found their respective mates. And it’s a little rare for his kind to mate with a human. Kento wonders if he’s just destined to be alone forever. He feels that deep sorrow inside of himself. The same one that he felt when he realized it would take him a long time to find his mate.

Night after night, he’s been chasing after you like some lovesick puppy. He finds it so pathetic too. You could easily find someone better for yourself, and you don’t even know that someone like him is so deeply in love with you. Kento contents himself with just sitting on your bed and watching you sleep. Seeing him that night was a mistake and you shouldn’t have woken up.

The next night that he shows up, it’s only in your dreams.

The room feels hot and stuffy, but it’s pleasant. There’s a slight smell of a candle that’s been burning, and something like a cinnamon and nutmeg scent. It’s enticing and intoxicating. Your skin feels drenched with sweat. You try to open your eyes, but you’re feeling so sleepy and so tired.

“P-please,” you pant out.

Calloused hands caress you, removing the sheet that covers your naked body. You whine as you feel those same hands spreading your thighs. Soft touches from fingertips follow, creeping up your thighs. Then you let out a pathetic whimper when you feel something parting your soaked folds with expertise.

“Fuck,” you whine when you feel a wet, hot tongue pressing against your clit.

The feelings are intense. Your orgasm grows so fast, it hits you hard. You’re panting and moaning loudly, trying to grind against this tongue. But as soon as it appeared, faster did it disappear.

You wake up the following morning wondering if that was truly real and with sheets that are still damp from your dreams. This time, you have a harder time chalking it up to a wet dream.

For Kento, he wishes he could keep the taste of you on his tongue forever. He’s never gone that far with you, but he’s very happy he did. He eagerly jerks himself off to the flavor on his tongue and the memory of your scent until it fades away. It makes him angry that he can’t have you committed to his memory forever.

So he gets a little more daring the next time he visits you. This time, it isn’t just a dream for you. It’s a real encounter with the demon himself.

He casts a deep slumber spell on you, but you are still reacting to everything he does. He takes his time to memorize you; tasting you heavily on his tongue as you gush. Orgasm after orgasm is pulled from you as Kento works your body with expertise. He knows what you like. He could probably bring you to orgasm with the smallest little nudge against your clit by now.

His eyes are glowing as he feasts on you. His cock is rock hard as he begins to rut against the bed. Nothing could be better than this. The room feels so hot and warm, but it only seems to add to your arousal and his. The smell of burning candle, cinnamon and nutmeg fill your senses, even while you sleep deeply.

Kento’s eyes roll back as he gets to taste your essence once more. If he could, he’d gladly drown in the flavor of you for all eternity. It’s not enough to keep visiting you in the dark of your bedroom at night. He needs you always. Now and forever.

So the night finally comes where he decides to see how you’ll react if he introduces himself to you. He sits on your bed, waiting for you to rouse from your sleep. When you do, you gasp softly at the creature at the foot of your bed. He leans closer, and you get a better look at him.

Sharp, angular features for such a beautiful man. Or…is he even really a man? He can’t be a man if he looks this good and has a tail and wings. He smiles softly, his cheeks lightly pink.

“Have I frightened you?” He inquires, leaning in just a little closer.

Your senses are filled with the scent of burning candle, cinnamon and nutmeg. Your thoughts are filled with sensual memories. Something about this makes a throbbing sensation begin between your thighs.

“N-no.” You finally manage to answer. “Who are you?”

He smiles sweetly before reaching out to cup your chin. You get to look into his beautiful eyes. They shine so brilliantly for you. You don’t feel frightened at all, only confused and curious.

“My name is Kento,” his voice is so reassuring and soothing. “I am not here to hurt you.”

Something about that name makes your heart beat faster. You lean in closer to hear more of what he has to say. But instead of talking, he decides to kiss you. It’s so deep and passionate. He holds you close, his wings wrapping around you to keep you securely in his grasp.

“You are my beloved,” he finally whispers against your lips. “I have searched for you for a long time.”

Your eyes widen at the creature holding you. How could someone so beautiful have searched for you for so long? You feel so plain in comparison.

Almost as if he has read your thoughts, “You aren’t plain. You are the most beautiful thing on this earth and within every plane of existence.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. Your cheeks are redder than a tomato. You aren’t sure how anyone could think this about you. Kento cradles your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He looks at you like you are the stars in the sky, the colors of a rainbow, a beautiful masterpiece hung on the walls of an art museum.

“How precious you are to me,” he says softly. “I could not say it in words.”

You allow him to lay you down on the bed. His lips are attached to your neck; sucking, nipping, licking and biting. To get that sweet taste of you, he is quite desperate. Everything about you is both beautiful and extremely enticing. He could never get enough of you, even if he made love to you a million and one times.

His hands are calloused as he caresses your body. He slips your pajamas off of you slowly, tantalizingly so. His eyes keep gazing up at you, making sure you know just how much you are loved. He couldn’t be able to continue if he didn’t know for sure that you are indeed enjoying yourself.

The moment his fingers slip against your folds again, you feel that same arousal from the other night. It begins to truly dawn on you exactly what is going on. He’s been the one to pleasure you all these nights, even the ones where you were dreaming.

You pull him in for another kiss; this time it’s sloppy because of how hungry you are for him. He grunts against your lips, his fingers still working at your greedy pussy. But he loves that you’re getting into it. You’re desperate and needy for him, which makes him so happy and very aroused.

“It’s been you this entire time,” you whisper.

He nods. “Yes, does this please you?”

You can’t even begin to think of the right words to answer that question. So instead you reach down and feel his cock through the skin-tight underwear he’s wearing. He moans just for you and you love the sound. You love it so much, you wish to hear it forevermore.

Kento kisses you with a ravenous hunger now. The hunger that resides so deep inside of him as an Incubus is beginning to come to the surface. He needs to try and rein it in if he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you.

Tenderness returns to him as he takes a few deep breaths. He cannot show you the ugly side of him. It’s an animal, a beast that resides inside of him. It’s ugly and carnal and full of sin. And though he’s sure you’d still be able to find it in your angelic heart to forgive him if you were to see that side of him, he would hate himself forever if he were to harm you in any way.

“Please,” he moans softly. “Allow me to taste you once more.”

He spreads your thighs again, grunting when he sees just how soaked you are. You smell divine. Musky and yet so sweet. It makes his cock throb and painfully twitch. For an Incubus, he swears he’s falling into your trap instead of the other way around.

Your little heart pounds in your chest like the fluttering of the wings of a hummingbird. You reach down to push his hair out of his face, and this earns you another grunt from the man between your legs. You aren’t sure if he’s fully a man or he’s a beast, but either way you have come to accept him as your lover.

His tongue feels like warm silk against your folds. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, rendering you incapable of speech for a moment. You shudder from head to toe, and a small little gasp falls from your lips. You’re panting already and all he’s done is lick once.

“Oh, you’re so needy for me.” Kento purrs before he dives back into lapping at you.

Your toes curl as his mouth works you up to an exquisite orgasm. Your breath hitches in your throat as his mouth and tongue and lips stimulate you in all the ways only someone from your wildest dreams would be able to. As your body shudders and shakes, Kento grunts against your wet cunt. He’s hungry and growing hungrier by the moment. If he doesn’t pull away soon, you’ll see the beast inside of him.

Thankfully you tug on his hair to pull him away to avoid too much overstimulation. He looks up at you; his once hazel eyes have grown very dark. There’s a look on his gorgeous face that you can’t quite decipher. But soon, it begins to dissipate and you swear his pupils are in the shape of hearts just for you.

“My pretty lover,” he coos softly. “Please…” he swallows hard. “Please allow me the chance to make love to you. The privilege.”

Your eyes widen. How could he even be begging you? He was so beautiful, so handsome, so breathtaking. It should be the other way around. You should be the one begging for a chance to even look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to tonight, or really if you didn’t want to engage at all, I just want to—”

He’s interrupted by you pulling him in for another kiss. It’s mostly to shut up his insecurities right now. But part of you wants to taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. He grunts as he adjusts himself in his underwear. Your hands reach down to begin tugging them off of his perfectly sculpted body.

“It would be my privilege to make love with you.”

Those words make his head swirl with arousal and lust. His eyes are dark once more. He nips at your bottom lip, making you squeak in pleasure. Kento parts your thighs even more so that he can place himself between them. His underwear is all but ripped off his body.

“Eager for me?” he teases you before kissing you. “I’m just as eager, if not more.”

You sigh as you feel his hands guiding your thighs to wrap around him. The heft of his cock rests on your mound. Kento uses his fingers to open you up, making you drip all over the sheets even more. Slowly pumping them in and out and in and out…

“Just like that,” he coaxes. “Just for me. Open up, my beautiful flower.”

His words go straight to your head, but also straight to your throbbing clit. You’re more than aroused and ready for him, but the fact that he wants to take such care of you, it turns you on even more. It takes no time for him to slip his fingers out and replace them with the tip of his cock.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispers in your ear as he pushes more of himself into you. “And I’ll go slow.”

Slow is his pace. Gentle is his touch. You shudder as you feel him leisurely pushing into you. His eyes snap up and down from your face to your little hole trying to suck him in. His tail begins whipping in excitement. He knew it would feel good to finally be inside of you, but he’s having to take deep breaths once again to not lose control.

“My beloved,” he moans against your ear. “You feel heavenly.”

Your cunt spasms around him as he eventually bottoms out. His balls are plush against you and you finally get a sense of how pent up he is by how heavy his testicles feel. Your hands come around to rub his back as Kento starts up at a very loving and tender pace.

“Pretty, beautiful, exquisite…” he spouts off as he begins rocking his hips. “So warm, so wet.”

When you look into his eyes again, you see tears. He’s relieved but also so overwhelmed. He’s trying his best to hang on to the shred of sanity he has left. It’s so difficult when you keep squeezing and clenching around him. It’s all too much for him to keep going without losing a little control.

“Forgive me, beloved.”

You barely have time to comprehend what he means when he pushes your knees up to your chest. His hips begin to snap as he fucks into you harder, faster and deeper. Oh he is just so deep inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your throat. It’s all too much for you to even begin to understand. You cling to him as his cock rams into you over and over.

“Kento!” You gasp, trying to hold on.

He grunts and growls like a ferocious beast. Inside, he’s cursing himself for allowing himself to show you even just a fragment of who he truly is. His tail comes up to curl around one of your breasts. His head dips down to take the nipple into his mouth. He sucks on it harshly as he fucks deeper and harder into you.

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts. “Need to breed,”

His words are a bit of a shock, but you’ve been piecing parts of this together in your head this entire time. He, of course, is not a regular man. And the way he’s pumping into you now, you know it’s because something else is possessing him to do so.

Your legs begin to shake as his cock keeps pushing against that sweet spot deep inside of you. Stars speckle in your vision as your peak becomes imminent. It’s such a deep feeling inside of you. You can barely contain your moans, whimpers and sweet breathy whines. Kento tries to stop himself, but the more you squeeze around him, the less control he has.

“Going to breed you,” he growls. “You are mine.”

Every word is punctuated with a deep and harsh thrust. His balls rest plush against your ass every time he’s completely deep inside you. His eyes are growing darker. And the tail wrapped around your breast has now begun to tug a little bit on your nipple.

“May I…Can I…” He growls loudly. “Need to breed!”

It’s no longer a question. It’s a demand. A command for you. You are so willing to allow him this privilege. He never even told you the outcome of this coupling. You just wanted to soothe him and his needs, all while falling in love with this man; no, he’s no man. He’s a beast. A beast that you wish to tame.

“Cum,” you struggle to tell him. “Inside.”

He barely hears you, but something inside his brain clicks. It’s all that he needs to be sure that he is more than allowed to do this. Before either of you can register what’s happening, his tail wrapped around your breast squeezed harder. His wings come around the both of you, shielding you from the rest of the world.

With a loud roar, he begins emptying himself into your tight little hole. Shots of thick, potent cum spill deep inside of you. Kento reaches down to begin rubbing your clit in slow, tantalizing circles. A soft gasp escapes you as your orgasm hits you hard. Your legs are shaking and your heart is pounding harder than it ever has before.

You feel your vision beginning to tunnel…

You awaken several hours later. Your hole is sore and abused, dripping thick cum. You’re disoriented as you try to understand what is happening. Kento isn’t here, but his scent lingers on everything. You look at the nightstand and notice a bottle of water and a piece of paper folded in half. You take a drink of the water and then you unfold the paper. It’s a note from your otherworldly lover.

See you this evening. Same time as last night. Be prepared, my love. I have lots more to show you.

Xoxo,

Kento.

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afterglowkatie · 2 days

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someone better | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 2.6k | There was always someone better. You never felt like you’re enough for anyone, especially not yourself. Would anyone really miss you?

ˏˋ°•*⁀ Heavy themes include: suicidal thoughts, depression, low mental health, thoughts about a suicide attempt, intrusive thoughts, negative thoughts. Please read if you can handle things like that. sorry if it doesn't make sense, it's essentially a vent fic i just needed to get things out it's been a low day so yeah

The air was crisp. You could see your own breath, which would’ve been amusing when you were a kid but now it was a reminder that you were alive. You didn’t mind the cold, at least it gave you something to feel other than the numbness that had taken over your body. The rooftop access in your apartment building wasn’t secured and was never monitored so you found peace in sneaking up onto the rooftop to think and reflect. Seeing the city’s skyline, it was beautiful. A stark contrast to the awful thoughts that plagued your mind.

Watching the lights shimmering below, all the people that wandered the streets below, all the people that were in their own apartments, yet you never felt more alone than you do right now. A bit ironic. Shakily taking a breath, you decided to sit lean against the edge of the building and let your thoughts consume you. There was no stopping it so why not let your mind run free when you’re in a space without any interruptions. Even if letting your mind run free meant it was slowly killing you in the process.

The thought of death was always in the back of your mind, occasionally making its way to the front when you thought you had exhausted all your other coping mechanisms. Another irony, when you were younger you were always afraid of death. Afraid of dying, but now more than ever it was what you craved. You would happily welcome death if it meant you could disappear from life to never return. Never having to face the pain and suffering of everyday life again.

It’s not like anyone would miss you, or even notice or care that you were gone. That was it really, no one needed you. A hard thought to stomach, one that made your head spin, that made you fall deeper than you already were. They all had someone better, someone more important to them than you were. You were always just someone they could use to fill the time before someone better came along.

Every time you got attached to someone, you’d eventually lose whatever friendship you had with them. A ‘filler friend’, you would call yourself. The one no one thought about unless they needed you or if they had no one else. Always a last resort, never a first choice. No one would truly miss you. They might say they do but a day later they’d go about life like normal and never think or say your name again. You knew these thoughts were irrational to an extent, although the part of you that believed that these negative thoughts were the truth always won. This was the truth that others were afraid of telling you. The truth you had to tell yourself.

You had convinced yourself that all you do is break, burn and drain the life out of others. Always trying to be the person they needed, the person they wanted you to be regardless of your own feelings and pain. Which you obliged, learning from a young age that all you had was yourself. Your own problems and thoughts were only yours to carry. Quickly learning to suppress emotions, fake smiles, and keep a bubbly personality around anyone else. No one needed to be burdened by you, your absence in life would be a blessing, even if no one else knew it yet they would realise not long after you’d left.

But that’s the thing, everyone else in your past had left or moved on. What made anyone else at Arsenal any different? It would be silly to think that this club would stay the same until everyone ended their careers. You all seemed like a family, but even families broke apart. It would also be silly to think that even if everyone separated that you would all stay in contact. Maybe for a little while but it wouldn’t take long before everyone drifted apart from each other, before anyone drifted apart from you. You thought you were easily forgotten. So what difference would it make if you decided to leave now? You were tired of trying to live. Trying to live to everyone’s expectations of who you were and who you should be.

You were more than grateful for how far football has come and thankful for all the fans and support from everyone online and in person. But with that continued to grow the expectations you had to live up to. You were the team’s ray of sunshine. Even the fans saw you that way. You were the one that gave everyone hope. Always knowing how to help lift your teammates up when they were feeling low, especially after a loss of an important match. You never wanted anyone to feel the way you felt now, the way you had always felt. Which is why you continued to put that weight on yourself.

Though being the team’s source of positivity and hope was exhausting. You were getting tired and felt that no one noticed how broken you had become on the inside. Slowly becoming a shell of who you once were, but you would try your best to never let anyone see. Especially not let your teammates see. You were good at that. At never letting anyone in enough for them to see how much pain you suppress each day. No one had to see how much you tear yourself apart just to be enough. To be enough for them, enough for a friendship you saw them all have with each other.

Friendships were hard, you weren’t funny or interesting enough to keep anyone around for long. Your insecurities were always eating you alive. You found comfort in the coldness of the night more often than you would’ve liked to admit. Your midnight rooftop escapes were becoming more frequent, less time spent in bed and less time spent sleeping. It gives you more time to reflect. Typically hyperfocusing and reflecting on the way each individual group within the team interacted with each other. Always wishing you were enough to have a friendship that they all seemed to have with each other. Sometimes it felt like you were an outsider looking in.

It’s how it always went. You tried to put your all, your entire heart, into friendships and trying to keep connections with others. But it was all so exhausting and tiring. Past experiences constantly kept tainting any new opportunities. People in your past thought it was easier to constantly fumble and drop your heart, letting it shatter into tiny pieces leaving you to try to put it back together before the next person came along to do the exact same. You were used to the cycle, it had happened growing up within your family home life, within your last club, it was exhausting. It left you feeling constantly broken and empty and thinking that maybe you just weren’t deserving of a deeper friendship. Part of you likes to believe that you are deserving but lately it has been harder and harder to believe in that. It has become harder and harder to believe that if you stuck around long enough that things would change, that you would find what you were yearning for. But at the end of the day, who would want someone like you in their life?

Maybe you overthink too much, perhaps you let your mind have too much free range that it makes you believe these awful thoughts. That it makes you believe no one enjoys your company and that everyone would be better off without you. You didn’t know how to control them once they started. Your mind just taking you through each one of your teammates, showing you they were fine without you, better off without you in their lives.

Though your mind would happily let you forget and not notice how much everyone in the team cared for you. How they had started to notice that you were slowly fading away. You never saw the hushed whispers and how the group conversations had started to slowly shift into others voicing their worries and concerns for you. You were always so lost in your mind during these episodes that you missed the way you gained extra attention from Leah. Leah was always quite attentive and never failed to notice changes in you.

Finally feeling the chill of the air, you blew heat into your hands rubbing them together. Leaning against the edge you looked down. The thoughts to end everything then and there easily slipped into your mind. It was high enough that it would be a definite permanent action, but you could never bring yourself to follow through. Though tonight, everything telling you to follow through with your thoughts were louder than they had ever been. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. The cold air burning your lungs. The burning feeling you had become used to the more you spent out at nights. Somehow your body could feel numb and on fire at the same time. Perhaps it was just your anxiety but you would never admit to that. Admitting to your feelings is acknowledging that they’re there and that there’s a problem you had to fix. You’d rather pretend.

Looking down once more you were reminded of the one constant you had in your life. The one person who made you feel everything, the one that could make you believe life was worth living. Leah. Were you selfish for feeling this way when you had someone who would give you the world, who would give you everything she had? You felt selfish, that’s for sure. Leah was always enough for you, but there was that one part of you that wanted a friendship so similar to the friendship Leah provided for you before your relationship turned into something more than friends. Thinking about Leah gave you a semblance of hope. A continued faith that you’ll be okay in the long term, a reminder that right now was a short term feeling.

Turning away from the edge and the sidewalk that was calling your name, you decided to go back to the warmth of your apartment and the person who was currently occupying one side of your bed. Rubbing your arms, trying to defrost a little before climbing in beside Leah. You didn’t want to share the coldness that plagued your body when all she ever offered you was warmth, both physically and mentally. Leah looked peaceful while she slept, you smiled. It wasn’t big but it was real. Your smile around Leah was always real, no matter how small. You love Leah, and if you couldn’t live for yourself you would do it all for her. Eventually you would be able to do it for yourself, but anything that helped keep you here, keep you alive was enough until you could manage to want it for yourself.

Leah knew how much you were trying. She saw the pain in your eyes, she knew you well enough to be able to see right through you. You never liked to keep things from Leah, but you could never find the right words to tell her so you silently hoped she could see. Leah knew you went up to the rooftop most nights, but she also knew you were strong enough to pull yourself away and back into her arms when you needed it. She had followed you up to the rooftop, curious to see where you had been spending your nights. She watched from afar, worried since you were too close to the edge for her liking. But then she saw the way you were able to take yourself away from the edge and back down.

Leah watched from afar for a little while. Every single time you came back down to bed Leah would give you endless amounts of love and support. Whispering words of encouragement and praise that you didn’t think you needed to hear. Leah trusts that you would come to her if your thoughts ever got too much. And as much as you wouldn’t want to burden her, you also know deep down you would seek her out instead of following over the edge of the rooftop.

Every time she was thankful to see you walk back through the doors to your apartment, to your room, even if you hardly slept she knew you were safe. Knowing that you wouldn’t accept the help from anyone if they offered it outright, Leah would help you in other ways. Subtle ways that you hadn’t completely noticed yet. Leah would make sure all the laundry was done, folded and put away. She watered all the plants you had forgotten about so they wouldn’t die and when you left this episode you wouldn’t feel bad for neglecting your babies. Leah would give you a routine that you followed each day so you didn’t have to use up the energy you needed to use to fight on something mundane, on something Leah could do for you.

She wanted you to be able to give your all into this fight, one she knew you would be doing on and off for the rest of your life. But if it meant having you around then she would do whatever it took. Leah knew you were capable of taking care of yourself but she also knows how hard it can be to get up and fight to live every day. Leah was proud of you for continuing to get through every day.

Leah smiled when she woke up to you climbing into bed, before dawn she noticed which was a new record for you lately. Instantly Leah was in your embrace, the smile on her face just from your presence lulled the screaming thoughts enough for you to believe you could have some sense of sleep.

‘I hope it wasn’t too cold out there tonight,’ Leah’s voice was low and raspy, a mix of trying to not be too loud with it being so late in the night along with having just woken up, ‘Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold baby,’ Leaning down you placed a kiss on the top of her head, her thoughtfulness was comforting.

‘You don’t have to worry about me Le,’ You felt her body suddenly stiffen at your words, tending to overanalyse your words and thinking the worst, ‘You’re stuck with me forever babe,’ A small chuckle left your lips and Leah started to relax again in your arms. Maybe you weren’t a problem in people’s lives, maybe you needed better judgement on who to give your heart to. Giving your heart to Leah was easy, you know she’ll keep it safe. Romance always comes easily to you. Giving your heart to a friend was where you struggled. But now wasn’t the time to lose yourself again.

‘Never forget you have a place in this world. You’re special, important and loved,’ Leah always knew what to say and when to say it. It was like she could read your mind, which at times scared you, ‘I love you,’

‘I love you too, Le,’ Holding her close gave you hope that one day you could feel whole again, ‘Now, my love, you need to sleep,’ Even though she was in and out of sleep you could still cause a faint blush to spread across her face just from your words.

‘Only if you sleep,’ Before Leah knew it she had fallen back to sleep. Watching Leah sleep, you like to believe her peaceful aura would send you to sleep and that it wasn’t you falling asleep from pure exhaustion. Your fight was far from over, you were only just beginning but she gave you the strength you needed each day to make progress. Always reminding you on days you made no progress that waking up and living was progress enough. Making it through each day, no matter what, was enough. You were enough for Leah. You were enough for everyone else around you. You just had to believe to be enough for yourself.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x you #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #woso #womens football #awfc x reader #awfc imagine

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pwinkprincess · 3 days

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hiii i absolutely adore ur works and the way u characterize your readers !!! if ur okay w it, would u mind writing anyting 4 choso?? no pressure ofc, it’s all up 2 u ( ˘ ³˘) <3

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི secrets

࣪𓏲ּ. ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

in which your older brothers best friend takes a liking to you.

you remember the day choso moved onto the block. him and his brother were the only asian children in a predominantly black neighborhood. most people left him and his family alone, besides from the occasional curious glances and whispers of wonder. they questioned how the family found your neighborhood and what gave them the right to just settle in and replace the previous family that lived there two years ago. the older people were upset that the landlord just forgot about the previous renters just like that.

their house was right beside yours, you sat down on the concrete stairs that connected to your front porch with a caprisun and a babydoll with matted hair in your hands. you watched with curious eyes as their family brought a multitude of things inside their home. with every piece of furniture you imagined where and how they would place. you don’t know how long you watched them, but it was long enough for one of the boys to look up from the heavy looking boxes they were carrying and spare a glance at you.

he had pink hair and freckles placed all over his face. he also seemed to be the same age as you. the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds. your heart thumped in your chest. you were interested, truthfully. you had never seen someone that looked like them. you grew up around melaninated people who resembled you. there was also a good population of mexican kids at your school as well. most of them shared a tan though, there weren’t any that were as pale as the two new kids.

he dropped the box and raised his hand to wave ay you. you gripped your now empty pouch, your eyes are wide. there was a newfound emotion swelling in your chest, it was a feeling you couldn’t vocally describe. it felt like millions of butterflies were flapping their wings inside your stomach, and a superb feeling of happiness exploded through your body, going as far as to reach your toes. with hesitance, you lifted your hand and waved at him as well.

the boy grinned and you’d be lying if you said his grin wasn’t contagious. you felt your lips mimicking the same movements that rested on his face.

your little moment was quickly interrupted when your brother stepped outside. his footsteps echoed on porch like bricks falling down. he sported only a pair of basketball shorts and dirtied nike slides that he generally refused to wear socks with. a red durag wrapped around his head, covering most of his forehead. he scratches the side of his neck while he observes the pink haired boy as well, a scowl rested on your brother’s face as he looked at the little boy. the little boy is freed from your brother’s nonvocal interrogation when his brother calls him to hurry with the boxes.

“mama said come wash up. food’s gonna be done soon.” your brother tells you before going back inside the house.

you look back over at the spot where the boy was but there’s no one there anymore. you frown to yourself as you stand up and walk back inside the house.

it was a random thursday. that day, choso and his brother finally began coming to school. it was their first time riding the bus. even before they came, you and your brother’s bus stop was in front of their house. as you and your brother stood there silently waiting for the bus, your mind drifts back to the boy. and maybe you were thinking about the boy too much because out of the corner of your eye, you seen a flash of pink. you turned your head slightly, and to your surprised he was right there beside you.

you couldn’t help but to flinch and jump back. you shuffle closer to your brother, who only kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes at your antics. in your defense, he snuck up on you! the boy smiled shyly at you, you took notice of the slight red that rested on his cheeks. just as shyly as a few days ago, you wave back to him. he was a little bit shorter than you so he had to look up slightly to look at you. as you looked up, this time you realized his brother is standing beside him. your eyes move away from the pink haired one to the black haired one.

you felt your throat dry as suddenly you became weirdly self conscious of what you were wearing. did you look too childish? you wondered. most girls in sixth grade were wearing this style, and you thought you were pretty caught up in middle school fashion; especially sixth grade fashion. you glanced down at your jordans, light blue jeans, and your favorite pink unicorn shirt. twinges of doubt filled your mind, maybe you did look too childish. you look back up at the black haired boy who was looking around impatiently.

he was very handsome, his face carried a boyish look that his little brother didn’t exactly have. the same feeling from yesterday came back but this one was more intense. so intense that you almost felt sick. you briefly wondered if you should go back inside the house and change into something that screamed big girl, but to your dismay the bus was already coming.

the two older boys were already bolting for the doors the second the door opened. with shakiness you looked at the pink haired boy.

“sit beside me on the bus.” you told him simply. as the two of you climbed onto the bus you counted in your head. you unassigned-assigned seat was five seats away from the bus driver. you’ve been sitting in the same spot since the school year, everyone had already picked their seats so you had slightly saved him from getting yelled at.

as the bus picked up acceleration, the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes until he decided to break the silence.

“hey, uhm what’s your name?” he asked cautiously. and when you gave it to him he repeated it a few times to himself. “my name’s yuji itadori.” he introduced himself.

“hi, yuji.” you smile.

conversation took over the two of you easily. the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all. yuji would occasionally slip jokes throughout the conversation and you’d laugh hard. you had never talked to any boys for this long, all of your friends were girls. usually when a girl and boy became friends in your school they soon became a couple. but as you talked more with yuji, you could tell that wouldn’t be the outcome with the two of you.

when the bus finally approaches your middle school, yuji stopped talking as much and a worried look had graced his features.

you tap itadori on his shoulder, gaining his attention. “i’ll help you around the school today, ‘kay? but pay attention ‘cus i might not be so nice tomorrow.”

as months went by, while your relationship with yuji grew closer, so did choso’s and your brother’s. the two older boys did just about everything together; played basketball, went to the mall, played on the football team together, went to their first high school party together, and much more. all four of you grew closer, it had gotten to the point both your mother and their mother had to buy more food because they now technically had four kids.

months morphed into years and before you knew it, you and yuji were in 10th grade. it was bittersweet because during the summer before the new school year started, you were sitting beside yuji watching your brothers graduate high school together. at their graduation dinner you cried and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore. everyone else thought it was because you were an emotional little sister and while that might’ve been true, you were also crying because you wouldn’t see choso as much.

you had grown an enormous crush for him over the last few years. you had kept your crush a secret but you had a feeling itadori was aware of your crush on his older brother. you couldn’t help it. while yuji was also just as handsome, it was something about choso.

his face had matured, sculpted by time, shedding the soft contours of youth for more defined features. several piercings adorned strategic spots, adding a hint of edge to his appearance. not to mention how taller he had gotten, he had to be 6’ something and every time he stood beside you, you felt like passing out. you would miss seeing him in the halls.

your two years of high school passed just as quickly. and before you knew it, your diploma was in your hands and you and yuji were screaming and hugging each other. proud tears slipped from your face as you watched yuji take pictures with his family. he was no longer short and stubby. no, he was a man now. both him and choso towered over their parents as they conjoined arms to posed. just like choso, his face shedded all of its fat and morphed into something more chiseled. you felt yourself tearing up even more as you realized the two of you were no longer children.

“i’m not a kid anymore.” you mumble against choso’s lips. he hums at your words as his hands rubs up and down on your ass.

it had been a year since you graduated high school and began venturing out into doing new things. your brother was gone to his girlfriend’s house, yuji has began hanging out with this megumi guy, and your parents were gone at a wedding a few cities over. you had gotten the bright idea to invite choso over to watch a movie. you think he got your intentions fairly quickly when you mentioned the house being empty.

“you’re m’best friends lil’ sister, though. he’d kill me if—“ he’s cut off by you pressing another kiss against his swollen lips.

“i’m not gonna tell him anything. ‘nd ‘m sure you’re not gonna say anything, right?” you retort back.

choso bites down on his lip, he’s obviously conflicted. you sigh to yourself as your hands go for his zipper. you look up at him the whole time while you undo his jeans. once his zipper is down, you could see the obvious bulge that rested against his briefs. you could feel your pussy growing wet just from the fact that he had gotten so hard just from kissing you.

you slowly lower yourself onto your knees on the wooden floor. you bring your lips to his tip and begin pressing kisses against it, choso flinches every time you come in contact with another spot. as a final message, you dart your tongue out and lap at the precum that’s beading from his tip.

“you wanna do this?” you ask once you pull away. choso’s looking down at you with his pale skin flushed. there’s a fiery look in his eyes as he stares at you in your eyes.

“remember, you’re not a kid anymore. so take everything ‘mma give you.” he tells you as he guides his dick inside your mouth.

𓍼݀֯८݂𓈒𓏼ིྀ. .𓏼ིྀ ̥১♡

“fuck!” you gasp as choso’s hand strikes your ass cheek. you’re gripping your covers inhumanely tight. you can’t find it in you to close your mouth, you’re usually not as vocal with guys but choso feels like he’s scratching this itch that’s been there for years.

choso huffs out a breath as he slowly pulls his cock out of your creaming pussy, you’re so messy leaving a white base around his cock as well as dripping down your thighs. he slaps his cock against your clit a few times, watching as you shudder with every smack.

he wraps his hand around the back of your neck as he slowly pushes his cock back inside of you.

“this what you wanted, right? hm?” he coos at you. he watches as his cock sinks deeper into your wetness inch by inch.

you can’t stop the loud gasp from leaving your throat as your eyes roll back. who knew someone as skinny as him could be carrying something so long in pants. “chooo.” you whine, it feels like he’s stretching you out all over again.

“i know, baby.” he moans with you. he watches as the fat of your ass bounces against his pelvis. “you feel so good, mama.” he whines.

“only for you, daddy.” you giggle.

“yeah? this pussy mine, baby?” he asks with amusement. he removes his hand from your neck and uses both hands to spread your ass cheeks so that he could watch both holes. seeing your pussy wrapped around his cock like some sort of elastic has him twitching while still inside.

“mhmm. your pussy.” you don’t even know if your own words are truthful or if it’s just the sex that has you talking crazy.

“rub that pussy for daddy, then. cum all over this dick, baby.” he’s picking back up speed, at some point he goes from thrusting to pounding your pussy.

your back is arching even deeper, if possible. everything feels intensified as you rub at your clit. you feel tempted to try to crawl away from his never ending thrusting, but you told him you were a big girl now and you were trying to stand on that.

“shit so wet f’me.” he curses to himself.

he fucks you so well that your breathing gets caught in your chest a few times. you wish he would’ve fucked you earlier, everything about him is perfect. after a few minutes of straight drilling your pussy, he slows down so that it doesn’t hurt too much. you fingers are still slowly rubbing on your clit, some of your sticky arousal leaked from your pussy down to your fingers and palm.

“gonna cum, cho.” you’re gasping as you feel your orgasm approaching. “fuckfuckfuck— ‘m cummin’ cho!” you moan as you begin cumming around his cock, making an even bigger mess. you press your face deeper into the mattress as you begin babbling random words. nothing makes sense right now, all you can think about is his dick sliding in and out of you.

“there we go. goooood girl.” his moans turn into whimpers as his own orgasm approaches. he fucks your faster and harder as his peak builds up. “daddy’s turn now. mhmm, stay still f’me, mama. ‘m ‘bout t’cum too.”

instead of staying still, you begin throwing your ass back against him. choso lets out a breath as he watches your wetness leave little strands every time you pull away from him. “fuck, take it baby.” he groans. instead of rhythmically pulling out, he only shifts his hips a little as his orgasm pours from his cock. strands of white cum escape from his dick, filling your pussy.

the two of you stay still for a few seconds until choso finally pulls out.

“we’re not doin’ this shit nomore, forreal.” you can’t tell if he’s telling you or trying to convince himself.

“we’ll see.” you reply sarcastically.

255 notes · View notes

lostfracturess · 3 days

Text

remedies and reasons | ch. 01

ღ pairing professor geto x law student reader

ღ summary this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

ღ important this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

ღ wc 10.3 k

ღ warnings 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl.

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that.

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light.

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end.

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands.

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her. She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything.

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best.

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow.

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms. "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much.

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent.

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening.

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in.

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants.

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?" I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?"

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right," I said, my mind racing. "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold.

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness @roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout @gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future, this way it's easier for me to keep track!)

#remedies and reasons #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #geto fanfic #geto fanficiton #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #suguru geto x reader

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paradiseprincesss · 3 days

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if there's a heaven, i'm near it - emmett x reader (drabble)

masterlist

notes: as promised, here is a smutty drabble of emmett (this is before the whole plot of tqp took place lol) also i promise i'm working on my other requests! i just wanted to write something for emmett <3

summary: you've been secretly dating your dads best friend for months, and now that your dad is on vacation - you guys have the house all to yourselves.

word count: 876 words

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, age gap (reader is in college and emmett is in his forties) established relationship, creampie, overall general adult content lol

you were currently sitting on your kitchen countertop with legs spread and emmett's fingers curling into your soaking cunt as you moaned his name over and over again.

"f-fuck," you moaned softly, "please-"

"you're so naughty," emmett said lowly, his voice giving you chills in the best way, "look at you. getting fingered on the kitchen counter like a little whore."

his sinfully hot but degrading words only caused you to get even wetter (like that was even possible), and you let out a bratty whine as he continued to fuck you on his fingers. emmett's skillful work with his hands only brought you closer and closer to the edge as your eyes rolled back, and he watched your body's every reaction.

your dad was out of town for the next week and a half, and he didn't want his only daughter to be alone all the time. it's not like you lived in a dangerous neighbourhood or that you weren't old enough - you were in college for gods sake, but you understood where your dad was coming from. he was just worried. so he asked emmett, his best friend of over two decades, to check in on you occassionally.

unbeknownst to your father - you'd been secretly dating his best friend for months in secret. you'd been crushing on emmett since before he was divorced, but you didn't act on those feelings. you were still in high school at the time, but now you were a grown woman. the two of you started dating after your second year of college, and things had been going great since then.

well, minus the fact that your dad still had no idea you were screwing his best friend in secret - but it was more than that. you two agreed that eventually you would break the news. but for now, keeping it a secret made it all the more thrilling.

you whined again as emmett suddenly slipped his fingers out of you right as you were about to cum, and he licked them clean. the act made you moan and whimper as his eyes locked on yours the entire time. swiftly, he worked on getting his belt buckle and pants off while you stared at his toned, muscular arms and that tattoo he had on his bicep. my god was it hot.

as he lined his thick, hard cock up with your entrance, you gave him a pout so that he'd get on with it - but the expression was wiped right off of your face as he pushed his cock into your dripping hole. you both moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, and once he had fully bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment.

"you good?" he asked softly, kissing down your jawline and your neck.

"m-mhm, you can move." you tell him, desperate to feel him fuck you stupid, even though the stretch to adjust to his size still stung a little.

he groaned as he started to move in and out of your wet cunt, your back arching at the feeling of his cock pounding into you. the marble of the countertop below you had your wetness dripping down all over it, and emmett had noticed.

"look how fucking wet you are," he growled, "jesus- fuck, such a tight pussy. so warm and wet, so tight."

"j-just, nngh, just for you, e-emmett." you moaned, throwing your head back as you gripped onto his shoulders for some sort of support.

"yeah?" he groaned, "just for me, princess?"

"y-yeah, f-uck!" you whimpered.

he was plowing you to the point where you knew your legs would be aching for days to come, but you didn't care - you were already too cockdrunk to think straight. his cock continued to ram your hole ruthlessly as your cunt tightened up around him.

"s'good," he tells you, holding your hips with a grip that would definitely bruise, "you feel so fucking good, princess."

"ugh, m'gonna cum!" you whimper, your walls fluttering around his cock as his own thrusts started to get sloppy.

"me too, princess," he groans, "fuuuuuck."

as he gave you a few more sloppy but deep thrusts, you continued to hold onto his shoulders tightly as you came undone around his cock. emmett's hands dug into your hips as his own hips stilled, filling you up with every drop of his cum.

the kitchen was quiet for a few moments before emmett pulled himself out of you, and his cum dripped out of your spent hole. as you felt his warm seed leak out of you, you bit your lip and watched him grab a kitchen towel to help you get cleaned up.

"you're so pretty," he hummed, "especially with my cum leaking out of you."

his words made you blush, and you looked away shyly. he laughed softly, tilting your head back to face him with his hands as he pulled you into a soft kiss. as the both of you pulled away, he looked at you with such love in his eyes.

"you're my girl," he said softly, helping you down from the counter, "always have been, always will be."

"love you, emmett." you say sweetly, as he wraps his arms around you.

"love you too, princess."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it.

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone.

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work?

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted.

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot.

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly.

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said.

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull.

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that.

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person.

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels.

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop.

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb.

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one.

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase.

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say.

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up.

“Not... who’s...”

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.”

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers?

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it.

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it.

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering.

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you.

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.”

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.”

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore.

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree.

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him.

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies.

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year.

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies.

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it.

‘Did you like the flowers?’

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing.

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out.

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped.

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe.

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good.

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too.

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy.

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time.

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day.

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers.

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after.

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget.

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples.

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention.

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze.

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly.

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here?

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier.

“Please,” he begs.

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up.

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being.

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #end game #defending jacob

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