#and we might just about have the meds figured out

[ghostickle]

Never in my life have I had a doctor call me the right name AND pronouns especially without me having to talk to them first I’m so happy

[thethingything]

so we've been looking into a bunch of stuff about ciprofloxacin and first of all we should absolutely not have been prescribed it. we have like 4 or 5 different contraindications.

second of all we were told we'd had it before and been fine but I can't actually find it on our medical records because I'm pretty sure the doctor said it was what we took in 2017 but our records say we were given something different. in that case I guess our medical issues suddenly getting really bad out of nowhere wasn't due to being floxed, but they definitely got worse after we got floxed in 2019.

third of all there are so fucking many stories of people taking it and experiencing severe, permanent side effects. like it'd be one thing if these were really rare effects or whatever but this medication is notorious for it and there have been lawsuits over it

[kaijutegu]

Today I was talking with my mom about why seeing an alligator is fundamental to my mental health. At first she laughed but I got her to listen and she gets it now. My psychiatrist and I call this the alligator litmus test, and it works really well for making decisions about my treatment. I bring this up because perhaps there is something in your life that you can use in a similar fashion.

I have severe major depressive disorder, and I treat this depression with medication. I've been on meds for about... seven years now, and sometimes we have to mess with them. But sometimes the emotional part of the depression is just super bad and there's something underneath that needs to be addressed. When we are figuring this out, my psychiatrist says to take one alligator and call her in the morning.

See, no matter how bad I'm feeling, seeing an alligator almost always cheers me up in the moment. (This works with other large crocodilians, too- they gotta be big, it doesn't work with caimans. I don't know why.) I can't look at their goofy toofers and beautiful eyes and bumpy hides and not be a little wowed by them. Millions of years of evolution have led to this amazing creature and they are completely unbothered by me. Almost all of the time, they make me feel happy. Or maybe I'll feel sad for some unspecified reason. Maybe I'll get worried about the ecosystem or something- but invariably, I will FEEL.

Unless, of course, it's my brain chemistry. If I can experience an alligator and not feel anything- not happy, not sad, just numb- there's something wrong and we should talk about adjusting my meds. Usually with a little tweaking I'm back to my very functional medicated baseline in quick order- instead of wasting time with coping skills and such alone when what I really need is brain chemicals, it's a much quicker way to communicate what's going on with me. At the same time, it also helps me know when the coping skills ARE likely to work without changing up my meds, or when there's something I need to work through with some help.

It's a pretty solid test. Might not work for anyone else on the planet, but it works great for me!

[fulokis]

I got added to a book group and I’m not sure why, like I struggle so badly with reading it’s not funny. Maybe it’s cause I write but like even then it’s not original shit it’s just piggybacking on other stuff and I haven’t posted any of it in ages

[nope-body]

.

[andraxicated]

No Hard Feelings

Pairing: zayne x f! reader

tags: nsfw | mutual pining? | virgins in love | 69 | protected p in v | big dick zayne (cause he was my man before sylus and we love virgins who hide big packages) | small angst |

a/n: sitting pretty on my drafts since february. i love writing in this format it just lets your ideas flow | zayne is a harvard med alumni free from student debt cause he's rich and we all know it

inspired by one of my fav rom coms no hard feelings i swear its so funny

you are nothing but a broke college student looking for ways to make extra money. so what can you do when your friend shows you a totally suspicious ad?

"we are looking for a girl with experience to seduce our son and help him have a social life. preferably pretty. will be handsomely compensated"

you grab the opportunity after much thought and show up in the sluttiest dress to make sure you fit the 'girl with experience' part despite your v-card being intact.

and you never thought that you'd be sitting in a mansion's living room, listening to a rich mother yap about her worries for her beloved and only son's social life

"you see... it's because i'm deeply worried about our son! we are very proud he's doing well before going to medical school but it's summer and all his peers are going out on vacations, dating, and partying, but he doesn't seem to be interested in any of those since his time at university!"

let's say when you asked what he looked like and turned around to see a picture frame, you were instantly sold onto this 'fuck their son' plan

his parents said their beloved Zayne volunteers at the public park to tend to the flowers. he works under the hot son with his stoic face and meaty arms to which you space out a little.

imagine his surprise when his view got shadowed by your figure, looking up to see the expanse of your thighs, your boobs supported by a push-up bra. this was your best attempt at looking like a vixen

"heyyyy, can I touch your buds?" you giggle (cringing inwardly) and the rest is history.

Zayne didn't know what to fucking say but glare at you.

it was hard to get close to Zayne because that man was a brick wall. he was so reserved and quiet, always so serious despite your attempts at fun time. yet with every time you spent together, his walls break down bit by bit.

and when you saw a crack in his walls, you unknowingly tore it down along with yours.

because you are unexpectedly falling in love with him.

"I thought this was movie night" Both of you remove your tops amidst giggles and short kisses.

"Mhmm, you smell like Jasmines." Zayne pretends not to hear you as he rasps against your ear, kissing your neck as his fingers drag down to tug at your shorts and panty. You whine when he successfully removes it, cold air hitting your inner thighs as he shushes you through small, wet kisses.

"That perfume was on sale, I knew I had to buy it for you" You smile and Zayne mirrors it on his lips, making your heart skip out of your chest. He caresses your hips softly, dangerously inching closer to your core where you're positively throbbing.

"You know me so well. It's as if you were sent by someone for me."

You chuckle awkwardly, letting him trail down light kisses on your neck, all the way to your collarbones. His statement slaps you back to reality. That you were just a girl taking advantage of him and his parents' money. But with each kiss that matches with the beat of your heart, you feel that this acting of yours turned a little too real. You just wanted him between your thighs, lost in your body, drunk on your kisses, and never have him find out the truth.

Zayne looks up at you from an angle, wanting to ask for permission to dive in your pussy, but then he sees you spacing out, and it’s not the cockdrunk look he sees on porn videos. You looked sad and miserable while staring into nothing, he fears he might have bored you to death and he’s too much of a virgin to satisfy you. Zayne looked scared to snap you out of it, he lightly nudged your thigh, and your gaze finally shifted to him. You still haven’t gotten rid of that look yet. 

“Sorry, let’s not do this today if you aren’t feeling well” zayne speaks softly while sitting up, the care evident in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms. 

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “I’m sorry I killed the mood. Are you still hard?” 

“What?”

“I mean, is your dick hard?”

Zayne looks down for a moment and replies, “Yeah…I’m hard”

You giggle and reach over to give him a peck. “Let me suck you off. You’ll feel good, I promise” You say as if you sucked dick before. You were quite nervous to put something in your mouth for the first time, fearing for your throat and untrained gag reflex. Also, Zayne looks pretty big from the way he’s tenting from his shorts, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Your heart was beating from your chest as Zayne sat with his legs on both sides of your body, presenting you with his aching bulge. You tug down his shorts along with his underwear and you see his big cock that he’s been hiding all along. Zayne flushes red on his ears and neck as you stare at his size in awe. The tip was angry and leaking, twitching occasionally as the man before you winced. Its girth was impressively thicker than your wrist and length longer than what you’ve seen in videos, this guy was above average. But before you could try to touch him, Zayne coughs up to get your attention. 

You question him in your eyes and he blushes, struggling to get his words out. 

“I-I want to make you feel good too. Can we try that position?” 

“What position?” 

“...69” 

Zayne bites his lip, looking at your face for any sort of disgust but none came. A smile broke out on your face before you nodded, taking the initiative to adjust your positions accordingly. Zayne was taller than you so you had to be the one on top, your body tensing as you face his leaking cock staring at you. You wanted to put your mouth on it so bad but you knew you had to wait for Zayne to adjust at your bottom. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Zayne huffs out and you involuntarily clench, feeling his hot breath around your hole. You can’t help the heat that travels to your cheeks as you recognize yourself putting your ass up in the air for a man to gape at your hole. You could feel every bone in your body praying not to fuck this up.

“I’ll start,” You say, biting your lip and squinting your eyes before hurriedly starting the job. Your lips come into contact with the tip and Zayne moans, throwing his head back as you try to engulf him in your mouth. He feels you testing how your mouth glides up and down thanks to your saliva as lubricant. Zayne thinks he could burst right then and there in your mouth but he tries to at least save himself some dignity by not finishing through a 20-second blowjob. 

He leans forward and settles his palms on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh experimentally, making you moan at his touches. His lips press outside your pussy, shying away from the main course before steeling himself with the courage of a man. 

Choked moans left your mouth as Zayne suddenly parts your ass for a clear view and dives right in to fuck your hole with his tongue. He laps up like a man starved with eyes closed, executing toe-curling techniques that you didn’t know he could do. 

“Nghh! Mmhphh!” You’re drooling on his dick, taking what you can of his size and pumping what you couldn’t reach. He’s too much of a big fit in your mouth, struggling to hollow your cheeks since most of your wet cavern is occupied by his cock. You could only bob your head up and down, moaning to get him feeling some vibrations, and rubbing your pussy along his lips. 

On the other end, Zayne was having a very much-awaited make-out session with your cunt. He sloppily kisses your hole, circling his tongue as he tastes the softness of the flesh. His hands rubbing your ass in gentle motions causes you to clench and he groans, chasing the movement of your cunt. He does it like the boys do in those videos, he closes his eyes and imagines he’s doing a good job just like them, making their girl scream like it's the end of the world. 

“So pretty” he pulls away mesmerized by your glistening cunt. Zayne couldn’t help but be addicted to your pussy, and he gives it more attention by sucking and playing around with his tongue. To hear your muffled cries sends vibrations down his spine, making him even more hard as your eyes widen. 

You gasp for air as you fix your breathing. You wanted to complain about why he was getting bigger but you just couldn’t stop yourself from sinking deeper onto his cock. You’re positive you looked like a cockhungry slut with dick in her mouth, wiggling her ass as her man eats her out because that’s exactly what you’re doing, you could picture how dirty the position was and it makes you throb, edging you to your release.

No one was saying anything, too occupied with the job at hand as wet noises filled the room. Both of you were pushing each other at the brink of release. Zayne lightly thrusts to chase the feeling of a wet heat—challenging your gag reflex, not knowing it's your first time giving a blowjob. He suddenly hits the back of your throat as cum floods inside your mouth. You’re breathing through your nose, too full of erotic sensations, and you cum following his release. Wet spurts land on Zayne’s face as he drinks up your release, relishing in his first time making a girl cum. 

You pull away from his dick, white semen landing on the bed from your mouth and Zayne’s eyes widen seeing you keeping his release inside your mouth. He thinks you probably didn’t want to swallow it so he grabs tissues, and places them below your chin. 

“Spit it out” 

You look at the tissue on his hand and swallow the cum, wincing as the taste hits you. You just wanted to do it like others do, swallowing because you worked hard for it. Zayne was flabbergasted to even move, his flaccid member unapologetically rising hard when he saw you swallow his seed. 

It made him want to put it inside you. 

“Why did you swallow?” 

You wipe the excess off your face, “I just wanted to try” You hoped he didn’t catch on that it was your first time. Both of you were tired but you wanted to keep going, driven by lust. Zayne was trying to hide his erection and you decided to just get on with it, you wanted him inside right now.

“Zayne, do you want to be on top?” Your question left him surprised. He blinks for a few seconds before nodding and positioning on top of you as you lay down. Then it hits you.

“Wait, do you have a condom?” 

He visibly freezes before reaching over to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer, grabbing a condom, and opening the package. While he puts it on, your eyes drift to the package and you notice the XL size and the ‘super ultra-thin’ inscription. You couldn’t help but be a little nervous after reading that. 

“It’s on,” he says awkwardly, the tip of his ears reddening by the minute. At this moment, the air was thick with nervousness radiating from you and Zayne. You exchange eye contact with him as his palm rests on your hip, drawing circles to coax you and relax your walls. 

“I’m ready, are you?” 

“Yeah,” he kisses your lip to distract you from the pain of your cunt breached open by his thick cockhead. You wince in discomfort, legs shaking as the thickness stops moving. Zayne panics over your pained expression, whispering sweet nothings that it will pass soon because fuck, you are incredibly tight and wet. He almost moans at the sight of your hole struggling to take all of him. 

You look down and let your head fall back onto his soft pillow. “Move”, you let out breathlessly. 

“I’m too big for you, you need to adjust”

“Zayne, just move! Let me adjust when you’re inside me” You whine, wanting to have him inside you as soon as possible. Zayne complies and pushes in slowly, all his worries about med school and sex are completely gone when he buries himself to the hilt. You moan in unison, the stretch being painfully good for your first time.

It was the kind of pain that you’d willingly take because the pleasure was too much to lose out on. He stretches you out nicely, feeling every vein inside you, especially the tip that kisses your g spot. How did he find it in one go?

“You're so tight!—Shit” Zayne picks up on his space, letting his dick rub inside you before starting to thrust full-on. His hips smoothly roll as he pistons his cock in and out of your hole. Your wetness and the condom's lubricant make him move easily inside.

“Ohhh! Zayne!” You jolt towards the headboard as his grunts fill the room, his cockhead repeatedly locking in on your sweet spot, making you clench in response. His hair falls over his face, masquerading on his eyes as his hips put in the work for your pussy. He looks so pretty like that, flushed red, breathless, as he stuffs you repeatedly with his cock.

“Ahhhh, so big~” You could only moan and clench around his member, the movements making your boobs jiggle, and Zayne couldn't help but grope one of them—giving attention to the other by going down on his mouth. You just looked so pretty under him, so messy and good at taking his cock.

“My pretty girl” he huffs while bucking his hips into you.

Then he remembers that you probably had sex before him, and you have experienced other guys. And something deep within him tears its ugly head. Zayne suddenly had a primal urge to claim you, to make sure from now on, you're showing this lewd face to him and only him. 

He was jealous and it wasn't a good feeling.

He pounds his cock faster, pouring all the anger he has into vigor. You scratch his back as Zayne goes feral at a fast pace fucking his cock back into your hole. You thrash in his arms from the pleasure, wanting to run away because the dick was too good. But his strong arms cage you in place as he ruts like an animal in heat. 

His hand suddenly flicks on your clit, pinching the bud to edge you closer to your orgasm. He wanted to make you finish first, to feel your cum coating his length before he releases. 

Your nerves were set on fire just as you think your brain is fried from too much dick. You wanted nothing but to cum and release the knot forming on your lower abdomen. He pumps exactly at a target in a frenzied state, balls swinging against your skin. Zayne continued to grunt, letting out the manliest sounds you've ever heard.

“Z-zayne I'm Cumming—Hahhh!!!” You scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt spasming and dripping around his girth, body shivering from how hard it was. You feel like floating on cloud nine as Zayne leans down to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. 

“That's a good girl. Now take this.” 

His pace gradually falters and he slides in one last powerful thrust before exploding his cum and flooding the condom. You cried out as he did small jerks of his hips to ride out his high while cumming buckets. You fear some cum may have slipped out but you didn't care to voice it out.

Zayne learned that it wasn't good to make you oversensitive so as soon as he finished, he took out his softening cock and watched your abused cunt close. He thinks It might have been his favorite sight.

The night ends with you receiving aftercare, drinking water, and cleaning up in the bathroom to make yourselves clean for bed. You didn't even know Zayne changed the sheets, which explains why he left the tub faster. 

But as you lay in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, there wasn't any semblance of reprieve because of your anxiousness about the arrangement. 

Sooner or later he would find out and everything would come crashing down. You'd go back to your own life, paying expenses thanks to the money you received while Zayne would also go on and continue to med school, fuck a few girls since he already had a taste with a girl who duped him for money. 

Just thinking about that brings tears to your eyes. No, you don't wanna be separated from Zayne. You wanted whatever you had with him despite having no label. 

You tried to tell him the truth a few times but fear got the better of you and you find yourself backtracking, saying something else, and laughing it off. Every moment was precious with Zayne, you couldn't cut his smiles short—it would break your heart to wipe off the soft love on his face. 

So you did nothing but let time run its course.

Zayne soon expressed his want for you to meet his family. He feels like he's known you for a lifetime despite meeting just that summer. So you took his offer and had lunch with his parents who tried their best to act as if they first saw you that day. The food was delicious yet the whole dining experience was painful. You and his parents lying to his face made you unable to stomach the food very well. So you left the house and went to their garden, gazing at the flowers that you knew Zayne himself planted. 

He was looking around for you, sighing since you didn’t tell him where you ran off. He was about to ask his parents in the dining room when he accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Well that was awkward, can you believe our son actually fell in love with her? I mean, she’s pretty skilled”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when we hired her. I think we need to end this arrangement soon. I’ll give her the money before this situation blows up.”

He couldn’t fucking believe it. 

Skilled? Hired? Money? It didn’t take an intelligent man to connect the dots as the conversation went on. Every word that came out of their mouth froze his heart and shattered it like glass. Anger, hurt, and confusion overwhelmed him for the first time in his life. He found it hard to stabilize his breathing. He couldn’t help but let hatred cover his eyes as he stormed into the dining room.  

“Is what you’re saying true? You hired a girl to seduce me?” he demanded, voice shaking with emotion as his parents looked very much terrified to see him there. He didn’t want to believe it was true, but as the seconds went by it was all becoming clear that this was a big fat farce all along. Zayne didn’t know what hurt but he knew he’d been played by the people he loved. And that was all it took for him to break his promise of never raising his voice at his parents. 

“Is it true?!” he roared and to see his mother flinch hurt him but at that moment, Zayne was the victim. 

“Zayne, darling let me explain—”  

“Why?” 

His mother breathed out. “We thought it would be good for you. We wanted to let you have some fun since I feel like you’re constantly buried in books! You need to take some time to socialize too!”

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose as he steeled his mouth in case he said something he could not go back on.

“This conversation isn’t over yet” he uttered coldly, leaving his parents guiltily mulling over their actions.  

Overcome by the need to confront you, he walks in long strides to the garden. He honestly does not know what he wants to hear from you. Apologies? Explanation? He doesn’t know but his feet take him to you and destroy your peaceful moment. 

He sees your figure basking in rays of afternoon sun, checking on the flowers he planted. He stops and stares before storming and grabbing your wrist to make you face him. You meet his face in shock, body tensing from the dangerous aura he was emitting. His hazel eyes were swirling with hurt and you knew it was that time. Zayne knew how much you were playing him like a fool. 

“Is it true?" he pants “That my parents hired you to seduce me for the summer? So that I could get with a girl and have some fun?” 

Tears flowed from your eyes as you nodded shakily, accepting your fate. He was disgusted by how easily you admitted it. Was it that easy for you?  

“I want to hear it from you. Speak before I kick you out” he spat out with so much venom that it wrecked sobs from you. Zayne hated hearing you cry just as he hated how this was such a cruel game you played. 

“Zayne, it was all real. I swear! My feelings are real. It’s true that I accepted a deal with your parents for money but you have to know that I needed it!” You feel like ripping your hair out just to make him believe you. You were so desperate to not be a villain in his eyes. “And what I feel for you is real! I love you and I’m so sorry that I did this to you.” You sobbed, holding your face in your hands as you wiped the overflowing tears that clouded your vision. 

You took a step forward and he took a step back, reflecting the hurt in your eyes. 

“How do I believe you now? How do I know this is still not an act?” 

“I don’t know…” You shook your head, mind at a loss for words. “I just know that it would kill me to be separated from you.”

Zayne could hear the desperation in your voice and it was constantly stabbing at his heart. He longed to believe and touch you, but the pain of deception stung deep. 

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Who are you? Do you have any other name?”

You whip your head in shock, shaking your head frantically. “No! (y/n) is my real name! Everything I told you is real!” 

He stood frozen so you took your chance to explain, fighting the cries that shook your body. 

“I love you. I-I wanted to give my body to the guy I love and it’s you. It was my first time having sex with you! I’m not some vixen who sleeps around. I’m just me!—a college student in need of money. Believe me, I beg you.”

It honestly didn’t matter to him if the girl he loved had his first time with him or not, he loved her regardless. But when you say it like that, he knew that trusting him with your virginity must have meant a great deal to you. That almost made him want to hug you but the rational part of his mind begged him to have some dignity. 

“You broke my trust” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much pain I’m feeling. But I love you…and it would kill me if you weren’t around.”

You take a step forward and grasp his hand to place on top of your heart, making him feel how much it beats for him. 

He’s entranced to feel your racing heart, a testament to your love. This gesture was enough to repair a piece of his shattered heart. 

He uses your interlocked hands to pull you into his arms, burying your face on his chest. You snuggled close as warm tears fell slowly on your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna leave” you cried softly. 

“You’re not leaving until you make me trust you again. And if I trust you again, I won’t let you leave.” 

You nod and ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Zayne cleared his thoughts even if his emotions were a mess. But he was an intelligent and rational man, he was able to think clearly in times of distress and he knew what needed to be done. He knows how you’ll pay for your sins. 

“From now on, I want you to be honest with me. No lies or secrets between us. Tell me everything you feel because I want your full transparency.”   

It was a light sentence and you were eternally grateful to the forgiveness he showed you. Because you'd die if he didn’t.   

“I will. So let’s start on a clean slate please.” you grip his shirt, signaling him your desperation. “I’ll be that girl you met in the park. And you have to believe me when I say I loved you every step of the way. I-I won’t even take the money if it means proving my feelings are real.”

Zayne shook his head as he caressed your hair. ‘Take the money and promise me you won’t leave me. Don’t put yourself in a situation like this just for some money. If you need some, then ask me.”

“What?”

“If you need support I’ll be there to help you in any way I can. All I ask is for you to do the same for me.” 

“Of course I will!” Your voice came out louder than intended and he smiled, yet not like he used to.  

“But you’ll move to Harvard soon for med school? How-how are we going to do this?”

Zayne’s face fell at the mention of his move at the end of his vacation. He hadn’t forgotten but it was a reminder that summer was nearing its end. He had to settle all affairs before treading on a new chapter in his life. 

He sighed, arms still around you. “Long distance isn’t easy, and I don’t know how we’ll do it.” 

Fear crept into you like a snake dampening your mood.    

“But,” he continued with a promising tone. “I’m not giving up on us. I won’t let a little distance come between us. We’ll make it work.”

‘We’ll make it” 

“We will” 

He whispers in your ears, kissing the top of your head, and bathing himself with the love that he receives from you. 

You feared a second chance wouldn’t last long but if anything were the testament to your unbreakable bond with Dr. Zayne, it would be the family photo with you and the kids, standing nicely on his office desk. 

[sugurufic]

Two best friends in a room... (Gojo x F!Reader)

Summary: You and Gojo are stuck with each other one evening and Gojo decides to make a tiktok. You've got your own devious plan in your head.

Word Count: 1k

Content: fluff, Its a bit different from the other trends i've written… gojo tries this one on you instead, reader mentions she is bad at biology but likes math (self insert).

masterlist

“Satoru, why do you only have sweets for snacks?” you complain, plopping down on his bed. “Don’t you ever crave something salty or sour or spicy?”

“Hey! Stop whining about my sweets in my dorm!” He pouts, half sitting up. “You should’ve gotten your own snacks instead.”

“Suguru and Shoko aren’t here yet,” You say, taking out your phone to text in the groupchat. “I’ll ask them to bring me something other than sweet.”

“Oh, Suguru is busy - Yaga sent him on a mission at the last moment.” Gojo complains. “Shoko is busy preparing for her med school entrance exam.”

“Oh, right! I had totally forgotten about that,” you say, thinking about Shoko. She didn’t really need to prepare this hard, but you figured she did it because she enjoys studying about the human body. She has the brains to do it, you dont - having always been more inclined toward maths than biology. “Shoko’s stronger than me because I had already given up on biology back in middle school.”

“That is good because you make an excellent sorcerer.” Gojo says, somehow the teasing is missing in his words. “People would have died if you became a doctor.” There he is.

“Oi! I wasn’t that bad.” You defend yourself.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs.

“What do you want to do then, Satoru?” You ask.

“Let’s make a tiktok!” He sits up straight, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “I have been wanting to do this for ages,”

“What?” you ask, not recalling any trend that you have come across recently. But that might be because you don’t use tiktok (A/N: not a lie, but i use ig reels so it's the same)

“It will be funnier if you don’t know,” the white haired man grins, looking at you from over his sunglasses. His bright blue eyes sparkle with mischief - which you’d have found adorable if you weren’t the target of his joke.

He sets his phone up, floating it in the air above the bed with his limitless. The mischief is not gone from his eyes, and he has ditched the glasses for now. You rarely get the chance to admire his pretty blue eyes - it’s for your own good, you think. His eyes are captivating.

The audio starts to play, and Satoru says the words with it, “two best friends in a room…” you recognize the audio, but force yourself to not give it away, a devious plan forming in your head on seeing his annoyingly endearing smirk. “...they might kiss,” he finishes, and you give him a shy smile, keeping up the innocent act.

“Yes we will,” you say with the audio, still keeping that innocent act with puppy eyes looking right into his pretty blue eyes.

“What?” the what he says times up with the audio, but the shock on his face is genuine.

“I said, yes we will,” you finally give up the innocent act and smirk, loving the red-faced Satoru, who looks like he is about to explode. You turn towards him, on your hands and knees as you lean into his space and he seems to be running on autopilot and leaning towards you, the red flush never leaving his face. The audio continues to play promiscuous girl, but you don’t pay much mind to it.

Just as your lips are about to touch, you look at Gojo - his pretty eyes closed and lips open expectantly, and you almost feel bad for what you are about to do to him. Keyword being almost. You have gotten a once in a lifetime opportunity to get the ultimate teasing rights over him - with the proof being recorded, and no matter how much you want to kiss him too, you steel your nerves to not laugh, and blow air into his ear instead. 

Your warm exhale into his pink ears has your best friend shivering with a shrill squeal, and the phone drops to the bed, still recording as Gojo loses all his focus.

“What the hell was that?!” He screams, voice still higher pitched.

“I was having a bit of fun,” you say, biting your lip to stop the laughter. “But you looked like you actually wanted to kiss me?”

“So what if I did?” He gets defensive and pouty. “You’re pretty and I like to hang out with you.”

“Is that so?” you tease, feeling warmth creep up your face. “Go on then,” you say, knowing well enough that you will regret this later, but you can’t not do it. “I’ll let you kiss me,”

If Satoru was blushing then, his blood vessels looked ready to combust when you said those words in that challenging tone. He was all but compliant, leaning towards you when you took charge and grabbed the collar of his white shirt, pushing yourself to him, your knees on the outside of his thighs and your lips pressed against his. His large hands fly to your hips, holding on to them as if his life depends on it and parting his lips eagerly to welcome your tongue.

Your heart thunders in your ears, disbelief at the fact that you are kissing your best friend, your very attractive best friend that people would give anything to get a chance with. One of you hands leaves his collar and rests against his warm cheek, caressing it gently as the kiss turns into a full make out session with you sitting on his lap and his hand reaching down to your ass.

When you separate, both of you are panting, heavy lidded eyes looking into one another, and Gojo finally breaks the silence with a breathy admission, “I don’t think I can ever stop wanting to kiss your sweet mouth, princess.”

“Then don’t stop,” you whisper back, resting your forehead on his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he asks.

“Be my boyfriend,” you say.

“Hey girlfriend,” he tests.

“Hey boyfriend,” you tease.

“Let's go on a date, girlfriend.” Gojo suggests. “I’ll let you have something other than sweet, babe.”

You giggle and nod, before taking his phone and sending the tiktok to yourself. Boyfriend or not, you can never pass up the opportunity to get blackmail material against him. He is an annoyance, but he is your annoyance now.

A/N: man i love bottom-coded gojo with my whole heart. also first time writing gojo i hope you like it <3

[hoe4hotchner]

Hii I just started criminal minds this month and ofc I HAD to run to tumblr when I saw Aaron Hotchner and I came across your blog and I really really love your writing !!

So I wanted to ask a one shot with him about an anemic reader (fem if possible) who forgot to take her med or to eat on a case and she gets dizzy but brush it off and continue working but hotch notice 🙏🏽

(Ignore if you’re not comfortable writing it ofc)

Watchful Eyes

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Light use of Y/N, dizziness, forgetting to take meds.

Requests can be send here

The sun was high, casting sharp shadows on the ground as the team spread out through the small town, gathering evidence and interviewing witnesses. It was the third day of their investigation, and everyone was feeling the strain, especially you. You'd been running on fumes, forgetting to eat properly, and skipping your medication a few times in the rush of trying to catch the unsub in time before his next victim was brutally murdered.

Pushing aside the foggy feeling in your head, you focused on the task at hand, sifting through piles of case files at the local police station, where the team had set up their field office. Your vision blurred for a moment as you tried to focus on the words in front of you. Shaking your head slightly, you tried to clear it away.

"You okay?" JJ asked, glancing over at you from a desk nearby.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," you replied with a forced smile. "I'll be fine."

But as you stood up to grab another file, the room seemed to rock. You reached out, gripping the edge of the desk in an attempt to steady yourself, but quickly brushed it off trying to power through it. There was no time to be weak. The team needed every set of hands, and you couldn't afford to slow down, not now.

Hotch appeared in the doorway from the chief of police's office, his presence commanding as always. "(Y/N), can you come with me to the crime scene? I could use an extra pair of eyes?"

You hesitated for a moment, the dizziness still lingering at the edges of your consciousness, but nodded not wanting him to notice. "Of course, Hotch. Just let me grab my things."

He watched you closely, noticing the slight hesitation and the way you braced yourself against the table. He was the chief after all. Hotch didn’t say anything, simply waiting for you to collect your belongings before leading the way out. As you stepped into the sunlight, the cool air hit you, and you did your best to shake off the unease, determined to keep up with your boss the best you could.

Hotch stood outside the suspected unsub's house, a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke into his earpiece. "Reid, I need you and Morgan to double-check the timelines with the victims' families. Prentiss, head back to the station and go over the CCTV footage again with the local officers. We might have missed something." He directed the team, trying to make sense of the case so far.

"Got it, Hotch," came the chorus of replies.

Hotch glanced down at his watch. Time was slipping away, and you needed a breakthrough soon. As he disconnected the call, he spotted you across the street, your figure slightly hunched over as you scribbled notes from a witness. Something about your posture made him frown. You looked pale, almost ghostly under the harsh sunlight, and there was a slight tremor in your hands as you took the notes.

His eyes narrowed. He knew the signs, he had seen them before. The stress, the exhaustion, the faint sheen of sweat on your brow despite the cool breeze. His instincts told him something was wrong.

Making his way over, he approached just as you swayed on your feet, your hand reaching out to the wall for support.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice low but firm, drawing your attention. "Are you alright?"

You blinked up at him, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Hotch. Just a little light-headed. It's nothing."

Hotch wasn't convinced. He stepped closer, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of serious distress. "When was the last time you ate?" He asked, aware of your condition from your personnel file.

"I… I don't know, this morning, maybe?" You admitted, your voice wavering. You knew it was of no use lying to him. He was far too good at his job for that to work.

"And your medication?"

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling small under his intense gaze. "I might have forgotten…"

Hotch let out a quiet sigh, concern etched in his features. "You know you can't skip those. You're not doing anyone any favors by pushing yourself like this."

Before you could protest, Hotch’s hand reached out, gently but firmly taking the files from your hands. The gesture was commanding yet tender, leaving no room for resistance. He looked down at you with a mixture of concern and resolve, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of defiance. When he spoke, his voice was calm but laced with an authority that you knew better than to challenge.

"That's it," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're grounded to the field office until you’re feeling better. No more pushing through or pretending you're fine."

He held your gaze, making sure his words sank in as if daring you to argue and make your "punishment" even worse, potentially pulling completely off the case. You felt a wave of frustration rise in your chest, you didn’t want to be sidelined, not when the team needed you. But beneath the frustration, there was also a sense of relief. Hotch wasn’t just issuing orders; he was looking out for you, protecting you from yourself when you couldn’t see past the immediate demands of the job.

"Hotch, I—"

"No arguments," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for debate. "I'm not risking your health. Not on my watch." He continued, softer now, almost gentle. "I can’t have you out there in this condition. Not when it’s clear you’re struggling. The case can wait; your health can’t."

As you stood there, the weight of his words settled over you, and you realized there was no point in fighting it. Hotch wasn’t just your superior; he was someone who cared enough to make sure you took care of yourself, even when you wouldn't. You opened your mouth to argue, but the world tilted for the second time today, and you found yourself grateful for his firm grip on your arm, steadying you.

"Come on," he said softly, leading you back to the car to drive you back to the field office. "You're sitting down when we get back, drinking some water, and taking your meds. We'll figure out the case, but we need you healthy to do that."

Once you were back at the field office, the busy atmosphere felt distant as Hotch guided you to a chair in a quieter spot. He kept a steady hand on your back, making sure you were okay as you sat down, feeling more tired than you'd wanted to admit.

Hotch quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby cooler. Without saying a word, he opened it and handed it to you, his eyes never leaving you. The way he watched you, so carefully, as if worried you might collapse, it made you feel both comforted and a bit embarrassed. You knew he was just being responsible, but his concern was clear.

As you took a sip of water, it helped ease the dryness in your throat, but it didn’t stop the awkwardness you felt under his watchful gaze. You looked down at the bottle, trying to avoid his eyes.

"I'm fine, really," you mumbled, your voice quiet as you tried to reassure him, though you weren't entirely sure yourself.

Hotch knelt beside you, so you were at the same level, his expression soft and understanding. "I know you are," he said gently, but with a firmness that showed he wasn’t going to let this go. "But you need to take care of yourself, (Y/N). We all need you at your best."

His words were simple, but they carried a lot of meaning. It wasn’t just about the work, they needed you to be okay. And he wasn’t going to let you ignore your health again. His concern made you realize how much he and the team cared, not just about the job, but about you as a person. You nodded, a small smile finally breaking through, feeling a bit better knowing you weren't facing this alone.

You nodded, the dizziness starting to fade now that you were sitting. "Thanks, Hotch."

He gave you a small, rare smile. "Just doing my job."

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)

And happy holidays!

Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.” 

“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home. 

You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop. 

A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful. 

“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.” 

You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain. 

The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you. 

You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view. 

“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?” 

You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?” 

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?” 

You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly. 

Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?” 

You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice. 

“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head. 

“Not bad,” you murmur. 

“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.” 

You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.” 

James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly. 

“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?” 

You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.” 

You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.” 

James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was. 

“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”

“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.” 

Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under. 

“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.” 

Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes. 

There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder. 

“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?” 

“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly. 

“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.” 

“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch. 

“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?” 

“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”

“No,” you all say, you rather mopily. 

You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side. 

“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?” 

A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep. 

“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.” 

James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?” 

“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.  

“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.” 

You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod. 

“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”

You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”

[the-alice-killer]

Advice for newer discovered systems:

A hard truth you might not want to hear: but sometimes you need to put finding things out about the system on the back burner. Sometimes you will need to just push it to the side and come back to it later. This is something I've seen other systems also express before as well.

Think you have a new alter, but you have an important school assignment to do? The alter can wait. Unless they decide to make their presence everyone's business, just leave it be and go looking for them after you do the assignment

Think you have a subsystem, but have life to be doing? You can come back to that topic when you have free time. It isn't that important at the moment

Worried because you haven't heard from an alter for awhile? Don't drop everything to try and get them to front. Just go about your day and they'll come back when they're needed

Think you're splitting? Just take some pain meds for the headache if you need and go about your day. You can figure out who split when you have more time.

Basically, don't drop everything because you want to find out about something. Don't obsess over it to the point you can't function in daily life or get stressed over it. These things will be learned when it is time. Stop trying to check all these imaginary boxes immediately.

Seriously, we've known about the system for about 4 years and we still don't know shit about how things work half the time. And we only take a look into things when we have a chance to. Our job and life are a bit more important than figuring out who the hell might be in this newly revealed layer and stuff like that. We know the time will come to learn. It just isn't right now

[steddieas-shegoes]

“Mama, are angels real?”

Eddie asked Annie this question on a random Tuesday night when they were watching cartoons in the living room of the trailer. He was six years old and had never once stepped foot in a church to even really know what an angel was.

“What do you mean, baby?”

“They have wings, right? Wouldn’t we see them if they were real?”

“Well, we don’t know for sure, I guess. They could be and just have magic that hides them.”

She changed the subject, not wanting to get into religious discussions with her much smarter kid.

It never came up again.

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽

When Eddie woke up in the hospital, his first words were directed at his Mama.

“Angels are real. He saved me.”

She didn’t think much of it; The boy was on enough pain meds to put down a horse.

But he brought it up again the next time. And the time after that.

“Where’s my angel?” He’d ask.

And she’d have to try to fake a smile and say he must be busy saving other people.

Eddie nodded like that made sense.

And then she met Steve. Steve had been so busy volunteering, he hadn’t had time to visit Eddie or Max much, but since they delegated tasks a bit better, he decided to use his free time to drop by. He brought some tapes and a Walkman, a magazine with Metallica on the cover, said he figured Eddie would like some entertainment that wasn’t the nurses gossiping outside the door.

Eddie woke up while he was there and beamed.

“My angel!”

Annie Munson felt like every organ in her body just floated away.

She looked to Steve’s shocked face, silently prayed he wouldn’t think it was too weird.

She watched as his features relaxed, a genuine smile pointing towards Eddie.

“I dunno about that, Eds. I’m just good at CPR and can lift people.”

“You saved me.”

Something weird was happening with Steve’s face, something like sadness and anger crossed it before it settled back into something similar to fondness.

“Of course I saved you. You saved us.”

“Maybe we’re both angels.”

Annie covered a short as she looked out the window, tried to give them some semblance of a private conversation.

“Maybe you should get some more rest.”

“Will you stay?”

Annie’s brows raised in surprise, but she didn’t say anything or turn to look at Eddie’s bed.

“I’ll stay until I have to pick Robin up.”

“And then you’ll come back?”

“Sure, Eds.”

Eddie passed out after the promise and Annie finally looked back at them both.

Steve’s hand was covering Eddie’s, his eyes drooping like he hadn’t been getting enough rest.

“You know there’s a cot in the corner for when I stick around at night. You might as well use it tonight if you’re comin’ all the way back here.”

Steve startled, but calmed when he realized she was smiling at him, genuinely offering it.

“If he wants me to, I’ll stay.”

“So you’re the angel he’s been talkin’ about.”

Steve’s entire face and neck went red.

“I was just doing what anyone would do.”

“Well, I think I’ll agree with Eddie on this one. You’re an angel to us.”

[thethingything]

the thing is as well we're so dissociated and having so much trouble processing shit that we keep going "maybe it's not that bad and I'll be fine if I take a 2nd dose" while literally crying so hard we're struggling to breathe because of how much the side effects are fucking us up.

I need to decide whether to take this 2nd dose but it feels like whatever we do we're fucked because I don't wanna not take it and then end up causing more problems with the stuff it's meant to treat and I get the feeling the side effects are gonna last at least the rest of the night whether we take it or not but then I don't know if taking multiple doses and then stopping the course is worse than taking one dose and not taking the rest and I can't fucking ask for medical advice because it's 11pm

[sl-ut]

random college!abby hcs

more!college abby

warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, and nudity, cursing, mild hint homophobia

first things first: jerry is alive and abby is his pride and joy

i'm serious... her mom died when she was a toddler and jerry hasn't had a long-term relationship since, so he's the only parental figure that she has

he took every precaution while raising her to make sure she always had everything she could ever need while also making sure that she didn't end up being an entitled brat

otherwise, she is very close with both of her father's siblings (her aunt is the only maternal relationship she has and definitely relied on her for all of her personal issues as a teenager), has a good relationship with jerry's mother and step-father

her mother was an only child, but her parents always come over for thanksgiving and even christmas sometimes

she was very supportive of her father taking in yara and lev after she moved out. she knew he was suffering from a severe case of empty nest syndrome. she def makes them feel so welcome right away like those strangers became her siblings in a matter of minutes

i'll only say it once ppl: OLD MONEY

jk i'll say it again. the andersons are a long line of surgeons and doctors so obvi they're gonna be well off

like, not "fund a research facility to get my kid into college" rich, they're more "i casually have a summer home, a ski chalet, and a ridiculously nice house to live in year round" rich.

her only real relationship was in high school (trigger warning: it was owen)

our bby had a bad case of comphet as a teenager

like fr she had not even considered the fact that she might be gay until she was two knuckles deep in some sorority girl during a party in her freshman year

after that she sort of just accepted it, she had no concern of her dad bc obviously he would be so accepting and supportive, but a few of her relatives def had an issue with it right off the bat (old money, old values)

she's been friends with manny, nora, owen, and mel since middle school, and the only one whose view of her seemed to change was owen (and mel too ig bc she stopped seeing abby as such a threat)

he drunkenly questioned her about it once, saying something super gross and along the lines of "you didn't seem gay when we were together"

to which she responded by offering him two choices; he could sit down and shut up or she would knock him tf out

he's cooled it since then but everyone knows that he still has a big fat crush on her so he still wants to believe he has a chance (even tho he was literally already talking to mel before they broke up and announced they were together only a few days after)

she's pre-med, majoring in bio and minoring in something totally different like classical lit or history or something

she's gonna end up being an orthopedic surgeon but later on in her career i can see her turning to teaching at a university or something

like doctor!abby turned prof!abby???? omg

is very health conscious

she's a gym rat, this we already know

she also takes her diet very seriously as well, but always has a secret stash of junk for when she really needs it

also careful with her alcohol/drug intake

she drinks on occasion (birthday, christmas, new years, etc, etc) but usually not very much (will almost always be sober enough to be the sober driver if need be)

she refuses to do any drugs during lacrosse season. she's so strict with her diet during the season that she won't ingest anything other than quality, nutritious food. she also needs to submit a drug test a few times per season so she doesn't wanna risk it.

in the off season, she's more willing to have a puff or two at a party or take an edible before a movie night or something (i don't see her doing any drug other than weed)

she lived with manny during her freshman and sophomore years

they had a shitty little apartment a few minutes away from campus

it was the only one that manny could afford on a student budget, and he refused abby's offer to get a nicer apartment and let her pay a larger portion of the rent than he did

they still had fun either way

manny loved having another person he could talk about girls with (he was initially gonna move in with owen but then he got ditched for mel)

every sunday morning they would get takeout for breakfast so manny could recount his night with the girl that had snuck out only a few hours earlier

she was a little hesitant to join in and share her own stories, but she finally got more comfortable in talking to him about it (RESPECTFULLY!!!!!!! she was so scared that she was gonna end up sounding like a literally disgusting pig but she keeps the details to a minimum and only says nice things unless the girl was a major bitch)

she's a lululemon/gymshark girly. her go-to style is definitely any variation of athlesiure. she wears lots of joggers, dry-fit tops, and the cleanest pair of white sneakers you'll ever see

underneath, i'm picturing her as more of a bralette type of girl. obviously she wears a sports bra to the gym, but on a regular basis, she likes wearing bralettes over bras bc she doesn't need that much support so they offer just enough without the discomfort of a bra

i'm settling the debate rn everyone, college!abby wears boxers AND panties

she finds boxers more comfortable on a day to day basis, but she likes wearing cheekies and thongs especially when she's wearing leggings

so dorky

she was definitely a sci-fi/fantasy kid

she grew up on harry potter, lord of the rings, star wars, etc etc

would love a partner who would watch them with her and actually enjoy it

unironically makes gym thirst traps on tiktok

her followers always comment supportive things like: looking good!, major gainssss, muscle mommy come destroy this pu-

still wears the iconic braid, but usually only when she's on the field. she occasionally wears her hair down, but i hc that she still likes to wear her hair pulled back in a cute little braided ponytail or a messy low bun

when she's older SHE CUTS HER HAIR OMG OMG OMG like literally i'm purring rn

like ik you've all seen that edit of her with super short hair omg she's so hot

in her junior year she decided to live on her own

manny moved in with jordan, who had been begging him for a while since the rent was more than he could handle on his own, though manny's rent would actually be cheaper than it was in his apartment with abby

they still do their traditions tho, still having sunday breakfast, still going to the campus pub on fridays for trivia, still going to the gym together on wednesdays...

they're actually besties i love them

when she's on her period, she craves salty foods

is so frustratingly confident in her emotions

will always try to diffuse the situation and pissing the other person off with her calmness

takes really good care of her skin

her favourite drink is diet cranberry gingerale

she's a dog person, but she would definitely enjoy having a cat around too

adopts a rescue dog a few weeks after finishing her residency

uses old spice fiji body wash and deodorant (SHE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD) and a musky vanilla body spray

likes to feel and be clean, but isn't too fussed about her body hair so long as it looks tidy. she isn't anti shaving, and will probably make an effort to shave more regularly in the early stages of a relationship until she's more confident and comfortable around the person

NSFW

down-there hair? duh

like i said, she likes to keep things tidy so she'll trim and maybe shave her bikini line if she's feeling it but that's it. she's not fussed with body hair, whether it's her or her partner's

again, she'll make an effort to keep herself looking neat and tidy for the first bit of a relationship but after a few weeks she's not afraid to go full-bush when she doesn't wanna shave

she doesn't love penetration. fingers are one thing, but she has only had not-so-great experiences with sex that involved a penis-like object. she'd wanna be the one wearing the strap for the most part, but she'd be willing to try it again with the right person

slow and passionate sex >>>>>

considers herself to be very vanilla but she's actually kinda kinkyyyyy (she gets so embarrassed and blushy when anyone calls her out for it)

she prefers scissoring to using her strap (but she LOVES her strap)

she doesn't like to choke her partners, but she will reach her hand up and just hold their throat while they're fucking

she's always so sensitive

came in like thirty seconds during her first time with another girl

she's noiiiiisssyyyyyyyy

she usually starts out with just heavy panting breaths, then they turn into deep grunts, then she begins to whine from low in her throat, and finally she begins to gasp out words of praise or curses

she squirts teehee

like i said she's always so sensitive, so if she's any ways worked up when someone's going down on her they better watch out bc they're in the splash zone

her strap is purple and sparkly

abby anderson eats ass

her nipples are super sensitive too

not really nsfw but she really loves casual nudity with her partners, changing in front of each other, hopping in the shower together, using the bathroom with the other person in the room...

she's a boob girl. doesn't matter if they're big, small, saggy, or perky, she just wants to suck them

when she's on top, she likes to pull her partner's leg over her shoulder and will just start like trailing kisses along the length of their calf

she's a literal munch

will use it to her advantage too

tells her partner she'll go down on them if they finish their assignments

[heliads]

want you, need you - minho

Ever since you became a Med-Jack, Minho can't seem to stop collecting random injuries that absolutely require your attention. You might be catching on.

masterlist

The Med-Jack hut is either overwhelmingly busy or frustratingly slow, no in between. There are days when every single room in the place is crammed full of patients– somehow, every Slicer manages to cut themselves, and every Builder breaks a bone– and you wish you had picked any other job than this one. The busy days are rough. You start wondering what might happen if you stopped being able to put people back together as quickly as they fall apart. You think about the endless cycle of injury and healing until everyone wears out entirely, a map of bandages and skin pressed thin like dead leaves.

Those are the hopeless days. Then, you’ll have a dry spell, when everyone manages to get their stuff together and no one complains of sprained ankles or excessive sunburns. At that point, you start twiddling your thumbs and mindlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies. By the end, you almost start wishing people would get hurt just so you’d have something to do. It’s an uncharitable thought, certainly, and one you regret once you’re stuck in the middle of another hurricane of aching Gladers, but when there’s nothing else to do, it comes nonetheless.

You’ve found yourself in the middle of another boring week. For the past few days, the Slicers have remembered how to hold their knives so they chop the animals and not themselves, the Builders hit their nails with their hammers instead of their thumbs, and the Runners don’t give themselves cramps and stay in perfect health.

Well. Not every Runner.

Even during the most boring stretches of your admittedly short career as a Med-Jack, you can guarantee that you’ll have one specific patient. Just like clockwork, every few days a certain dark-haired, teasing someone shadows your door, complaining of overworked tendons, pulled hamstrings, heatstroke, and every other medical condition under the sun. If Minho can think it up, he’ll say he’s got it.

It’s honestly becoming ridiculous. For someone who’s such a capable Runner, it is truly remarkable that he survives so many ailments. One would think he would give up running entirely if it gave him this much grief. Yet every day, Minho sets out for the Maze with a cheerful disposition, and at least two times a week, he appears in the Med-Jack hut, sporting some new injury that materialized at some point during the day.

So, when you look up from labeling the medicine cabinet for what must be the dozenth time this month, and realize that you haven’t seen the Keeper of the Runners in a few days, you know that it’s about time for him to come down with the flu, a severe migraine, or maybe both at once.

True to form, you’ve barely finished going through the medications on one shelf of the cabinet when Jeff, one of your fellow Med-Jacks, comes into the room. “You have a patient,” he says impatiently. “Guess who?”

You roll your eyes, although you can’t help a small smile. “Can’t you handle Minho yourself?”

Jeff gives you a look. “I tried. He told me he wanted to wait for a professional. Figures.”

You snort. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“I told him that,” Jeff complains. “This might surprise you, but he didn’t care.”

“Tell him again,” you say, turning back to the pill bottle you’re labeling. “I’m busy.”

Jeff heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m not wasting my time with that. He’s your problem, go fix him.”

You shoot him a confused glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Jeff retorts, reaching over to grab the bottle out of your hands. “Ever since you started here, Minho randomly comes over all the time. You know he used to hate visiting the Med-Jacks before you arrived? Now he can’t stop showing up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you protest weakly.

Jeff sighs again, so deeply you swat him on the shoulder. “That’s klunk and we both know it. The data doesn’t lie, Y/N.”

“There’s no data,” you argue, but Jeff’s already waving you out of the room. 

You make a face at him, then go down the hall until you find Minho waiting in one of the smaller rooms meant for patients. He’s poking at some supplies on a small table in a corner of the room, but he straightens up excitedly when he sees you.

“Doc! I’m so glad you’re here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, Minho?”

“That’s no way to treat a patient,” Minho frowns exaggeratedly. “Whatever happened to bedside manner?”

“You got bedside manner the first ten times you showed up for no reason,” you tell him pointedly. “After that, you get whatever I feel like. You should be happy I’m still giving you bandages. We only have so many, you know that? Maybe I’ll start charging you a fee.”

“I can pay,” Minho says lazily, leaning forward so you can feel his breath hot on the side of your face. One of his hands starts to curl around your side, pulling you closer to him.

Dangerous, he is. You idly push him away with your palm, pretending to examine the supplies he’d been poking at earlier so you have time for the heat to leave your face. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong with you this time?”

Minho sighs dramatically. “Well, since you care so much, I’ll have to tell you that I’ve broken an ankle. It hurts so bad. This might be it for me, Y/N.”

You arch a brow. “Which ankle?”

He pauses a moment, thinking. “Left.”

“You’re standing on it just fine right now,” you point out.

Immediately, Minho shifts all of his weight onto his right leg, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support. “No, I’m not. Look, I can’t bear the pain. It hurts.”

You just look at him. Minho looks back at you, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up into a proud half-smile. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” You ask.

He gasps. “Y/N. Are you trying to discredit your own patients? Some Med-Jack you are. I bet Clint would trust me.”

“Then go talk to Clint,” you say, making for the door.

Minho hurries over, flinging out an arm to close the door before you can open it. “Wait, wait. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. You’re the only Med-Jack for me, I swear it. Clint is nothing to me.”

You take an obvious glance towards his feet. “That ankle sure seems to be healing fast, huh? You moved over here like it was nothing.”

Minho leans his back against the door. “Alright, you got me. Nothing’s wrong with the ankle. Still, my lungs have been feeling exhausted lately, that might be something–”

“That’s because you run everywhere,” you say, grinning in spite of yourself at his antics. “Come on, Minho, you’ll have to get a better excuse someday.”

“My bad for wanting to see you,” he returns. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I miss you,” he adds a little quietly.

It makes you smile in earnest this time. “So you’re here to be a good friend, then.”

“Yeah,” Minho says, and you might be kidding yourself but you swear he sounds almost disappointed, “A good friend. That’s me.”

You tap him gently on the arm to get him to move from the door. “How about I promise to find you straight after my shift ends, and you agree to leave without using any more of my medical supplies? Jeff’s going to kill you if we run through anymore bandages, I swear it.”

Minho pretends to think this over. “Straight after? You promise?”

“I promise,” you repeat. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” he intones solemnly, and at last lets you open the door and usher him out, but only after extracting one more promise that you won’t delay to talk to Newt or anyone else once Jeff lets you out.

When you get back to the storage room, you find Jeff waiting for you, grinning knowingly from ear to ear. It bothers you for some reason, not the fact that he’s on this topic again but worse, the thought that he might not be entirely wrong for it.

“Wipe that look off your face,” you mutter.

Jeff’s grin just broadens. “How was your star patient?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, “And I’d be fantastic too, if you could stop bothering me with whatever weird thing you’re thinking about right now.”

Jeff shrugs exaggeratedly. “Of course. I don’t know why anyone would think about Minho being unable to go three days without talking to you. That would be crazy.”

“It would be,” you add darkly. People in the Glade have said that you have a tendency for killer death stares. However, Jeff seems to be impervious to it, because he just keeps sitting there, proud as anything, as if he were in the right about this.

As if. This isn’t the first time your friends have tried to suggest there’s something going on between you and Minho, and the honest truth is that nothing has happened at all. Yeah, Minho’s your best friend, and yeah, your days are significantly better when you see as much of him as possible. What about it? It doesn’t mean a thing. Life is hard. If you want to talk to the boy who makes you laugh like no one else, you should be able to do it in peace.

You can’t deny that the rumors stay on your mind, and recently, you haven’t been able to deny them with as much conviction as usual. You’re not blind, Minho is good-looking, and maybe you start thinking about something past friendship when he makes another excuse to get in your personal space when you’re sitting together by the fire or walking through the Glade. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before, but as good as it might be to have Minho in every way that matters, you’ll still be perfectly happy with just the one. You can’t risk your friendship, even if, two drinks of Gally’s brew into a Bonfire Night, you start thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or worse still, when Minho drops by the Med-Jack hut again, you convince yourself that maybe he’s not just doing it because he’s a good friend but because he wants you just like you want him.

It can’t be, though. For one thing, Minho is notoriously confident. If he liked you, he would have told you by now. You’ve seen him argue with Gally for the fun of it, not to mention the fact that he chose to be a Runner of all things. Minho lives on a constant adrenaline rush. Compared to what he does on a daily basis, confessing his feelings has to be nothing major. If he wanted to tell you, he would, and he hasn’t, so obviously there isn’t anything to tell at all.

For another, and this might just be in your own head, but Minho is so brave and capable that he seems to eclipse everything around him. Maybe it’s just the force of your own perspective, but you swear the entire Glade orbits around him. When he gets back from a run, he’s immediately swarmed by Gladers asking him about how it was, if he saw anything important. He’s always the first person people talk to, the immediate choice for a dinnertime companion. Minho could have anything he wanted in the Glade. So why would he want you?

You’ve managed to force the whole thing from your mind as best you can. Minho is your friend. At least you can have him like that, even if it kills you sometimes to look at him and imagine all the ways you would love him if he would just give you the chance. Any good medic can keep their feelings internal when they need it, and you’re the best there is.

You meet Minho later that night as promised, and you do your utmost to pretend everything is normal. You stay with him until the sun sinks below the horizon, until the Doors slam shut, until the moon begins its familiar path across the sky. You talk the whole while, idle chatter that occasionally drifts off into comfortable quiet. You’ve never been able to do that with anyone before, feel so at ease that you can stay silent for minutes at a time and have it not be awkward, but with Minho, it’s so simple. Then again, you can hardly remember anyone at all. Maybe there was someone in the past who mattered to you just as much as Minho does now. Even without your memories, though, that feels impossible. Minho could have no substitute, not to you.

You’re expecting the next day to pass in a breeze of idle hours, but around midafternoon, your dreary day of organization and the occasional bad paper cut is harshly interrupted by the sound of chaos outside. There’s shouting for a Med-Jack, and then several people are rushing someone in. It’s a Runner, apparently, you hear the details as you run for supplies. The Maze started moving during the day and he got hurt.

You can tell from the way people start nervously looking at you that it’s bad. At first, they don’t say any names, but then you burst into the chamber that serves as your operating room and you know that it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined, for not only does it seem like there’s enough blood to drench the Glade, but the victim isn’t Ben or one of the other Runners, it’s Minho. Your Minho. Your Minho, bleeding out on your table, who will need you to save him.

You stand there for one fragile moment, drenched in horror, then spring into action. Clint and Jeff have surfaced by now, and you direct them to anesthetize Minho. You want him to feel as little of this as possible. After carefully cutting open his shirt to determine the source of all that awful blood, you determine that it’s not as bad as you thought, more of a broad surface wound than a deep puncture. That much blood loss is dangerous, though, and he’ll need several stitches to close the flesh.

About an hour and a half later, you’re done. You and the other Med-Jacks lean back, panting heavily. Your hands and clothes are smeared with red, but color has crept back into Minho’s cheeks, and he’s starting to breathe evenly again.

“How long until he wakes up?” You ask Clint.

He checks a nearby clock, then Minho’s pulse. “Fifteen minutes, probably, but he won’t be fully conscious for up to an hour.”

You nod. “That’s good. Clear out, you guys. Get some rest.”

Jeff stops by you on the way out. “You can stay with him if you want. He’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.”

You let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Jeff.”

He pats you on the back then leaves to wash up. You spare the time to scrub your hands and get on a fresh change of clothes, but head back to Minho as soon as you can. Ben was with him when the accident happened, he said that everything happened so fast he hardly knew what went down. You don’t want Minho to wake up alone and confused, covered in bandages and unable to shake the scent of blood.

Once the immediate danger is over, you’re left sitting in a chair by Minho’s cot. His chest is swathed in bandages, but no red has flowered through them yet, which is a good sign. As you watch, the fingers on his right hand start to twitch. Clint said he would start to stir around now, and you’re glad to see the signs of movement. Watching him there– so still, so motionless– it made you wonder if he would wake up. It made you wonder if there was any way you could survive if he didn’t.

Minho is starting to make small sounds of distress under his breath, so you lean over and take his hand, squeezing it carefully but comfortingly. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

You hear the ghost of your name in his whisper, and then Minho starts to quiet down again, restless rustles turning back into quiet breathing. You check his heart rate with your free hand and are glad to see it returning to normal, shaking off the lethargy of the anesthesia.

Minho sleeps for a little longer. Afraid to upset him, you keep your hand in his. You can tell when he wakes again, because his fingers start to press against yours. Consciousness comes upon him like a wave beating upon the shore. All of a sudden, his eyes are blinking open, and then he’s trying to sit up too fast and is forced back down to the cot by a bout of dizziness.

“Easy,” you tell him, pressing him back. “Don’t try to sit yet. The meds aren’t out of your system.”

“Y/N?” Minho asks, voice hoarse.

Hearing the scratchiness of his voice, so totally removed from the usual confident cadence of his words, makes your throat close up. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Hey, Doc,” he says roughly. “Jeff won’t give me klunk about the bandages now, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” you say, torn between laughter and outright sobs. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“All good,” Minho tells you. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“Ben is fine,” you assure him. “You’re the one we’re worried about, Minho. I knew the Maze was dangerous, but like this–”

He cuts you off, squeezing your hand. “Hey, all in a day’s work. I knew the risks when I went in.”

You shake your head, hot tears starting to well up in your eyes. “No, no. This isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to get hurt during the day. Minho, I didn’t even know anything happened, and then they brought you in, and there was so much blood– I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even get to tell you–”

Even in the midst of your tears, you have the presence of mind to stop yourself before you give yourself away. It’s just– the thought had not abandoned you the whole time he slept, even the whole time you operated, that you could lose him without ever having him at all.

Minho shakes his head as best he can. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you whisper. “What if Ben hadn’t been able to get you back in time?”

You take a ragged breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Your shoulders shake, and Minho leans up slightly, as if drawn to it. To you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry,” Minho says, one hand weakly rising up to brush a tear from your cheek. “How is that fair?”

You laugh haltingly, in between the tears. “Barely awake five minutes, and you’re already flirting.”

He grins. “It’s all I want to do.”

If this were any other day, you would be able to brush off that comment, but something about this moment, this space– no one else in the room, Minho’s palm still tenderly cradling your cheek, your heart still erratic from the stress– you can’t help but turn the words over and over in your mind. All I want to do. All I want to do.

“Minho–” You start.

“Shh,” he says. “You already know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen through it. My smart girl. All those times I came to see you. Don’t say you haven’t realized.”

“Minho–”

“Newt says I’m being stupid. That I shouldn’t keep trying to have something that isn’t mine. But I’ll tell you something, Y/N, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy. I want you, and I don’t want to think about you with anyone else but me.”

Your breath is harsh in your chest, heart beating so loud you’re certain they must hear it echoing all across the Glade.

Minho’s eyes are fixed directly on yours. He sits up carefully, enough to reach his other hand up past your waist to the small of your back. “Tell me you don’t want me, or I’m not going to stop trying to keep you. Tell me to stop.”

Your lips part as you try to form an answer. Minho’s eyes dart down to the movement, and they only rise to your gaze with great reluctance. “I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him at last. “I want you, Minho. Only you.”

Two years now, you’ve known Minho. You’ve seen him proud and defiant, laughing and joyous and as happy as anyone could hope to be. Still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile as brightly as he does right now, right before he kisses you.

Every touch is electric, and this is the most powerful of all. Your mind is reeling from the moment your lips meet, sending you far beyond the reaches of the Maze to the sky itself. You could be floating forever if you wanted, and you only start to gradually come back to earth when he slowly breaks away.

“Minho,” you say, hesitating over every syllable.

“Y/N,” he mimics, lips turned up in an irrepressible smile.

“They’re going to want to know that you’re awake. I promised I’d get the others,” you tell him.

He considers this for a moment. “They don’t need to know immediately, do they?”

You smile. “No.”

Minho’s eyes glint. “Then kiss me again. You can tell them after.”

It seems like a fair deal to you. You kiss him to make sure of it.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss,

@hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list:

@wordsarelife

[evera-era]

heal me.

there’s a new medic in town, and ellie williams is about to find out who she is.

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt 2 here

warnings: fluff, mention of cuts/wounds, medical setting, suggestive themes. wc 1.3k

a/n: first time writing an ellie fic! if this does well i might post a second + third part <3

Ellie hated anything to do with doctors. She could take care of herself perfectly fine, she swears. But Dina witnessed her earning a nasty gash during a patrol, and wouldn’t shut up about it unless she got it checked out.

Word was that there was a new medic in town. Ellie’s pretty sure she’s seen you around Jackson. Walking around in those dumb white clothes, tending to everyone who needed you.

You’ve seen her too. Sneaking glances anytime you could. I mean, Ellie was pretty, and it was no big deal, right?

That is, until a flash of auburn hair ducks into the med clinic, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

Ellie clears her throat. “Uh… you guys are pretty much done for the night, right?”

She’s hoping you would say yes so she could just go back home and rest. Watch a movie, maybe. Have everyone fuck off and leave her alone.

You nod, clicking your pen, when you notice her clutching her side. “But I’ve got time for one more.”

You were on call, anyway, so your shift was never really over.

Fuck, she thinks. Ellie has always had trouble asking for help. She could take care of herself just fine. It didn’t help that you were so nice — nauseatingly so — but she figures that’s why you’re the town medic and she’s not.

“Follow me,” You add, motioning her over to the first room on the left. Even though meds were hard to come by, bandages were plentiful, and you weren’t gonna pass up the opportunity to tend to your crush.

Totally innocent crush.

“So, what was it?” You ask, eyes scanning over the girl as she takes a place on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Some fuckers we ran into, lone group. Nothing too serious... think they were looking to steal shit.” Ellie mutters. “But one took a swing at me and I fell on something sharp. My friend’s been bugging me to come here, get it checked out.”

Your conversation pauses as you take her vitals. Everything is in a normal range.

“The group…” You break the silence, looking down. “Are they a concern?”

“They’re gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You felt a light blush rise on your cheeks. Ellie was so strong, and brave. It showed, even in the way she just talks about her patrols.

You flit your eyes back up, trying to refocus. “So can I see? The wound?”

“Oh. Right.” Ellie’s fingers dip down to grab the hem of her shirt, and pull up. For a moment, you only see her toned stomach. You try not to get distracted.

Then you see the bandage under her ribcage.

Your fingers are gentle when they graze over the gauze. It’s a barrier, but Ellie swears it’s like you’re touching her directly. You move to peel it off of her.

Ellie absentmindedly sucks her breath in through her teeth. You whisper a small apology.

“It’s not… bad right?” She says after a moment. “I mean, I’ve had worse.”

She made a mental note to get onto Dina. This whole thing made her look like a fucking pussy.

“I’m sure you have,” You smile meekly, examining the cut. “No… not bad.”

After washing off your hands, you pull up a chair in front of Ellie. She watches you carefully as you sigh.

“Won’t need stitches, and no signs of infection.” You add. “But I can at least disinfect it and send you off with some new dressing.”

“I mean, it’s fine, I can—“

“No, let me.” You say quickly, cutting off her retort. “You’re already here, right?”

Ellie opens her mouth, then closes it. You had a point. She merely nods instead.

You reach down for the bucket of clean water. When you come back up, you notice Ellie has removed her shirt completely. The only thing clinging to her upper body is a flimsy sports bra.

“Oh,” You all but whisper accidentally.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

The rag becomes stained as you wipe the area. A few swishes, and the water in the bucket has turned a cloudy mahogany.

“So… your friend,” You add. “Was it Dina?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows slightly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

“She must really care about you.” You say quietly. It takes Ellie a moment to realize what you’re implying. She’s quick to answer.

“Oh, yeah. Not like that anymore, though. It’s… just friends now.”

You take that as confirmation that their relationship ended. And even though in a way you were happy to find out Ellie is now single, it would be rude not to apologize.

“Oh.” You mumble. “Sorry.”

She looks down. “It’s cool.”

You disinfect the wound with some alcohol before applying new dressing with gentle fingertips. You smile up at the brunette.

“Good as new.”

She feels herself smiling back. She wants to kick herself; she didn’t even wanna be here in the first place. But now it doesn’t feel like a mistake after all.

“Thanks,” She says. Her gaze has softened.

You grab something out of the cabinet. Ellie realizes it’s fresh bandages when you outstretch your hand to her.

“So, just… use these. Every couple hours, change it out, till it scabs over. If you ever need more you know where to get it.”

Ellie knows this. But she realizes that she likes hearing you talk, so she thinks of something else to ask.

“Uh, and how do I know what to look for? If I have an infection?”

“Oh,” You say. “Here, lay back. I’ll show you.”

Something about the way you’re hovering over Ellie has her stomach fluttering. You were so tentative. Why hadn’t she tried to talk to you sooner?

“Gotta check it everytime you change your dressing. If it smells weird, or feels hot…”

Your fingers trace over her body yet again. Her eyes are stuck on you, the way your hair falls into your face. The way your lips move to explain everything. Not to mention how soft your skin felt on hers.

She thought the whole “hot nurse” trope was something that only happened in movies. It was pretty clear now that she was wrong.

“Got it?”

“What?”

Shit. She wasn’t listening.

“Do you get it now?” You repeat, looking down at Ellie.

She blinks before propping herself up with her elbows. “Uh… yeah. Think so.”

You smile again, leaning back so you’re no longer positioned over her. You take your place against the counter.

Ellie didn’t hear a word. But she’ll make the effort now to be extra gentle with herself, because of you. If that’s worth anything.

Silence fills the room once again as Ellie pulls her shirt back over her head. You sneak in one last glimpse before she’s fully clothed.

“If something changes you can always come back and see me.” You add with a breathy laugh. “I’m in here, like, all the time.”

“Oh yeah?” She asks, looking up at you. “I’ll have to stop by again sometime, then.”

Your heart skips a beat. Is she trying to flirt with you? No, it’s probably nothing.

You clear your throat. “Hopefully not under these circumstances.”

“Right,” She says. Her eyes widen as she realized she’s extended her stay. “I’ll, um… I’ll go. Get out of your hair.”

Ellie’s never used that expression before. She nearly facepalms. So stupid.

But then you laugh a little, and it’s such a beautiful sound when it hits her ears.

“I don’t mind.” You add bashfully. “But… you need to rest and get better. Go back to kicking ass, all that stuff.”

Ellie feels her face wanting to turn red again. You were so sappy, and shameless with it. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, really. She didn’t think people like you even existed at all anymore.

She merely hums, unable to find the right words to say. If she sticks around any longer, she might actually develop feelings for you as if she hasn’t already. So she opts to bid you goodbye.

“Well… see you around.”

You nod, watching her head for the door. You hold the clipboard to your chest in an effort to soften your heartbeat.

“Night, Ellie.”

— part two

[medusapelagia]

30 I saw him

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:Vampire ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Joker: thriller) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: canon character death (Eddie), vampire Eddie, blood Words: 1272

“I’m telling you what I saw!” Steve yells in the phone, tugging harshly at the cord while he moves toward his apartment’s window, trying to catch a glimpse of the figure he’s so fucking sure he just saw.

“Steve. Listen to me. It has been four years. I know it was hard for you and that you still think it’s your fault, which obviously isn’t, but this is just your mind fucking with you, ok?”

No, it’s not.

Steve saw him.

Steve saw Edward Theodor Munson standing on the other side of the street, grinning.

“It was him.”

“Steve, that’s not possible. The Up- that place closed years ago. We checked everywhere, the military checked everywhere, and neither of us found anything.”

With a sigh, Steve bumps his head against the window, he knows perfectly well what Robin means: they didn't find a body, so probably the creatures from the Upside Down ate Eddie’s body like a fucking snack. And Steve could accept that. Or well, it took him years and numerous therapy sessions, but he came to terms with that. With Eddie’s death. But that was before today.

In the last week Steve has had the impression of being followed around and today, when he has looked down his window, he has seen Eddie standing on the other side of the street. It was just for a moment and then a bus crossed the road and the man disappeared. But Steve is sure that it was Eddie.

“Steve. Are you taking your meds?” Robin asks softly.

Turning toward the kitchen he looks at his counter where way too many bottles of medicines are standing. One pill in the morning, two after lunch, one in the afternoon, and a few drops to help him sleep every night and not be awake from nightmares.

Yes. He’s taking the stupid pills, but he’s still sure of what he saw, if his best friend doesn’t believe him, none else will, so there’s no point in arguing.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m taking the stupid meds and I was probably wrong. I’m looking out of the window but I can’t see him anymore.”

“Maybe he was someone who looked like him,” she suggests and Steve quickly agrees that it must have been so.

But there’s a thing he didn’t tell Robin.

The mysterious man who looked exactly like Eddie was holding a big dark umbrella, even if it wasn’t raining. That’s what attracted Steve’s attention. The huge umbrella covered the man’s body while nobody else was holding one.

It means nothing, Steve knows it, but he can’t stop thinking about it.

When he closes the call he promises Robin he will call his therapist and ask for an appointment soon, then he turns toward the kitchen where the tranquilizers are waiting for him.

Four drops under the tongue.

Steve grabs the bottle and slowly unscrews the cap, staring at the dark liquid, before closing the bottle and putting it back on the counter.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to be alert.

He goes into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, puts on worn-out pajamas, and goes to bed, waiting for whatever might come.

***

Steve’s dreaming. He knows he’s with the certainty typical of dreams. Still, he can’t wake up.

In the dream, he’s running toward the trailer park after they almost killed Vecna. He knows exactly what he will find, bike tracks and footsteps left by someone limping. He’ll follow them and he will find a crying Dustin holding a dead Eddie. Steve keeps reminding himself that it’s just a dream, that this is a mix of his memories and his fears, but nevertheless, when he sees the limp body on the ground he yells Eddie’s name. He runs toward him, trying to shake him awake even if he knows that there’s nothing he can do to bring him back.

“It’s too late, Stevie” Eddie whispers, opening his eyes and staring back at him, “Why did you leave me alone with Dustin? You knew it was dangerous, but you left me. And with no fucking weapons apart from a stupid trash lid and a makeshift spear. What did you expect? It was two of us against hundreds, thousands of those fucking monsters. Where were you when I was screaming in agony? Where were you when Dustin was holding me? Where were you when we needed you?”

Finally, Steve opens his eyes, springing up in his bed, fist clenching at the sheets and heart beating so loudly he fears it will jump out from his chest at any moment.

“Nightmares? I wish I could get those. I don’t dream. Like, at all. It’s so boring.”

Steve turns abruptly toward the window and sees a dark silhouette sitting on the edge of the window.

“Eddie?” He asks, while his right hand slowly reaches out for the bedside lamp, but instead of turning it on his hand bumps into it and it crashes on the ground, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“I knew you wouldn't forget me.” Eddie chuckles.

“That’s not possible. You’re dead!” Steve complains, wondering if this is just another nightmare and cursing himself for not taking his fucking sleeping meds.

“Everything is possible, Steve, you should know it by now. Alternate dimensions, monsters, superpowers. There’s no limit, right?”

“How… How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy. First I got to your old place, but you weren’t there, obviously. I checked Robin’s home, and Dustin’s, but Hawkins is abandoned, you knew that, right? All that’s left are crumbling buildings and useless trash. So I started to move around, but it wasn't easy to find a ride and I had no idea where to go. And then I got here in Massachusetts, and for the first time, I felt your presence. So here I am.” Eddie says like it was perfectly normal that he was resting in Steve’s home, with one leg dangling and one to his chest.

“You’re dead.”

“Yes. And no.”

“What… what does it mean?”

“It means that those stupid bats took my life, but they gave me another one.” Eddie finally turns toward Steve and his eyes are shining in the dark.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Come on, don’t be so naive. I know you feel it too. Not as strongly as me, obviously, but still. You got infected too.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“The bites. Do they still hurt? Do you have strange cravings, especially at night? Like a big raw steak? Not just raw, but bloody?”

Steve trembles, he did. Before the sleeping meds he did, but now he’s getting better.

“That’s the effect of the venom.” Eddie explains, “I think it took longer in your case because you were bitten just a few times, but hey, at least you’re going to have a mentor. I can teach you all I learned on my skin.”

“What? No, I’m not like that!” Steve protests, but Eddie gives him a sad smile.

“Steve… you just broke a lamp.”

“I hit it.”

“With your inhuman strength.”

“No that’s not true I…” but when he looks at his blanket they are shreds, and his fingers have long claws he’s sure he didn’t have before.

“Let’s go, babe. The world is big and beautiful, but we must flee before sunrise.”

“What about Robin? And the kids?”

“You know what, Steve? This is a very bad part of the town to live in.” Eddie grins.

***

The next day, when Steve doesn’t show up at work and doesn’t pick up his phone, Robin goes to his place, only to find the door ripped off and blood on Steve’s sheets.