#how to help when body is weak and can't function?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunmoonjune · 2 years ago

Text

raspberry leaves

pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]

warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort

word count: 12.5k

a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)

Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life.

It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.

It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious.

Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands.

“What happened?”

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we?

It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so.

You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry.

It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours.

Your period is merciless.

You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point.

It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber.

Nothing seems to help.

A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now.

You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High.

You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them.

Not for this.

There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop.

You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own.

Can’t you?

But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure.

When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach.

You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep.

But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will.

Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself.

“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.”

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later.

He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner.

Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.

But you’re not there.

Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright.

“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay?

Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace.

But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers.

He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse.

A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting.

Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach.

His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest.

“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.”

Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow.

“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound.

When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back.

You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway.

Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach.

“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?”

Still, you don’t respond.

You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him.

But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach.

You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak.

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.”

All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after.

“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock.

You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle.

“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.”

Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look.

Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look.

You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop.

Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice.

“Sugu…”

He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name.

“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…”

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you.

“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs.

Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again.

“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.”

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly.

It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back.

You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache.

“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?”

You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream.

You just want to sleep.

“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.”

You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me?

But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets.

Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry.

Suguru lets him rest.

He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door.

“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.”

Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again.

“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.”

He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes.

“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.”

You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock.

It’s too much for you to handle alone.

You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone.

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click.

Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.

You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach.

Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control.

He’s never seen you look so hurt.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.”

“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years.

This is a knife to his heart.

You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold.

“It hurts, Sugu…”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”

Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you.

“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you.

You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible.

“Haven’t slept yet.”

Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace.

Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh.

“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”

You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin.

“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you.

“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.”

“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.”

You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more.

“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.”

He hates the sound of your tears.

When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it.

“You took your painkillers?”

You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight.

“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”

“How long ago?”

He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain.

“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful?

“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…”

Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything.

“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.”

You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach.

“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”

You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around.

“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.”

His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle.

Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers.

Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that.

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”

Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes.

Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely.

Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason.

“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same.

“Hi, Sugu.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”

You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed.

“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before.

“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”

You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand.

“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.”

Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first.

When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door.

But he only gets so far.

Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.

You sway on your feet.

Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic.

You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.

When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops.

Then your body stills, and you crumple.

“Baby!”

Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving.

He’s going to be sick.

His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared.

“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open.

“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks.

Suguru doesn't know what to do.

“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”

You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous.

“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…”

You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs.

“Satoru!”

His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids.

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake.

Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body.

“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes.

Satoru thinks he’s dying.

It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway.

“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?”

His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation.

“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”

Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries.

“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”

“Suguru.”

The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns.

“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him.

“She’s not waking up…”

Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses.

‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up.

“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?”

Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…

And he doesn't want to.

His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek.

Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting.

“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.”

Satoru sags in relief.

“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.”

Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters.

Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son.

Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time.

Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home.

“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed.

Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright.

Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright.

Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son.

“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”

That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again.

“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.”

Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it.

Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now.

With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.

“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom.

“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.”

He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself.

From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin.

“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.”

Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek.

“Please.”

He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention?

Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons.

Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.

But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy.

Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now.

Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state.

Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup.

When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way.

So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully.

“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?”

Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response.

“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”

Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell.

Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi.

“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.”

Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache.

“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it.

Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be.

But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy.

“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back.

Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same.

“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables.

There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck.

Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father.

Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound.

Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out.

“Suguru…”

His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control.

Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features.

“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes.

“Wha’ happened?”

Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question.

“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?”

Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you.

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”

You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut.

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.

“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap.

“Gumi’s awake?”

“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”

Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process.

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes.

You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”

You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.

“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.”

Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues.

“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks.

You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums.

“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.”

You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands.

“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.”

Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried.

Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture.

Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front.

“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”

The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can.

“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.”

You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace.

“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick.

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs.

“Hi.”

The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back.

When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too.

That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family.

When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake.

“Toru?”

The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear.

Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be.

“Oh, Satoru…”

Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down.

“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…”

You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him.

“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”

Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh.

With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity.

You’re here. And you’re safe.

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.”

You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you.

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest.

“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.”

Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back.

“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.”

You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms.

“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?”

Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling.

“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.”

You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach.

When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you.

Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly.

“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly.

“This is burning you,” he states it obviously.

“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.”

Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller.

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?”

Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting?

Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.

“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.”

You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands.

“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.”

When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly.

“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners.

“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest.

“Good.”

Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near.

“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”

The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another.

“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.”

Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them.

When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist.

He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly.

Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too.

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.”

Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest.

“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.”

In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside.

When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer.

“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?”

The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels.

When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read.

Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face.

Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.”

He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him.

“Thanks, love.”

Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you.

Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen.

“Careful!”

Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.

“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’

When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival.

“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple.

Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you.

“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?”

Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear.

“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.”

Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead.

“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”

Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes.

“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.”

You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close.

“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.”

The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed.

Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands.

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.”

You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks.

When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family.

“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there.

“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.”

You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps, and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch.

Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru.

Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers.

Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch.

Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap.

“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly.

You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else.

“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!”

The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap.

No, he doesn’t think he will.

bonus:

gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty

reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3

ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon

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mirohlayo · 6 months ago

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F1 DRIVERS AND THEIR

FAVORITE TYPE OF HUGS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, fluff is fluffing

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

Comforting hug. Ohh, if there's one thing he loves, and that you especially love too, it's the way he hugs you. There's nothing sweeter than feeling his arms wrap around you, your bodies warming each other, and simply letting yourself go into each other's hold. Oscar's hugs are special, unique and intimate. It's a cloud of comfort and happiness, of pure softness, as his lips caress your hair.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Waist hug. It will always be his favorite type of hug. He always starts the day by wrapping his arms around your waist, placing his large hands on either side so you can't escape from his arms. You can only giggle quietly, returning his embrace by resting your head on his muscular chest. You just feel safe, maybe a little too loved by the curly haired guy. And to end his day well, he will start the same routine again, his arms wrapping naturally and perfectly around your waist, as if ultimately his arms were made just for that.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

Passionate hug. His hugs mean everything. It's his way of expressing how much he loves you with all his heart, and how much he can never imagine his life without you. He particularly likes to hold you tightly, passionately in his arms, after a nice race from him. After a podium, a pole position, or simply when he notices that you look at him with that magnificent proud look. There is nothing in the world that makes him want to be happy more, other than hugging you tenderly and passionately. A little tighter every second.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

Back hug. You would always jumped a little as you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and a muscular body gently press against your back. But you eventually learned that this is how Carlos likes to cuddle, and you have no problem with it. Well, yes, your only problem is that you always ask for more. He loves, he adores seeing you relax quietly in his embrace, while he makes sure to hug you tightly so that you can't escape. But could you honestly escape? Oh, you already know the answer.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

Bear hug. It's perhaps the simplest of hugs, but undoubtedly the best and truest. There's no better feeling than feeling close to each other. Lewis can't help but almost attack you with hugs when he sees you. You look just... so cozy and beautiful, he can't resist. But your body always willingly accepts his big hugs, and even more his little caresses that he gives you on the back, or even on the tip of your shoulder. The closer he is to you, the happier he is.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

Long hug. What's more comforting than a long hug from your boyfriend. He likes to take you by surprise, and hug you for no good reason. He feels like he needs it to function properly. However, he will always prefer long hugs. The ones he gives you when you feel bad, when he wants to share time with you, when he simply wants to show you all his love. So staying longer in each other's arms is like a quiet promise. A promise to love each other no matter what, forever. And it's just... sweet.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Eye contact hug. There's a good reason this is his favorite type of hug. Admiring your face, and seeing you blush because you can't make eye contact, that's what makes him lose all his senses. Just feeling you warm and safe in his arms makes him absolutely happy, but being able to admire your beauty, that of your eyes and seeing you all flustered makes him so weak. It's like a teasing game for him, and it's not for nothing that it's his favorite game. Obviously he'll never stop, except when it's you who reverses the roles and makes him... all shy and flustered.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

Neck hug. Daniel probably has a wider neck than yours, but that doesn't stop you from continuing to hug him by wrapping your arms around his neck. And that doesn't stop him from kissing you all over your face, delicately placing his hands on your forearms. He just likes to feel loved, and feeling your arms around his neck is like the best feeling in the world. Maybe this hug is extremely intimate, flirty and sexy, but he asks for nothing less. It represents you and it represents him perfectly, so why want to change perfection.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader

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miumiaoomyzi · 1 month ago

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: how i think svt would be like when they're sick and you're the only one to take care of them

warnings: none.

genre: pure fluff.

notes: this is genuinely just a hunch of my thoughts on what svt would be like if they were vulnerable, please don't take it seriously. :)

seungcheol — honestly, he pretends to be so cool about it. 'oh a fever lol anyways' and a few seconds later he's suddenly on the sofa groaning and whining about how terrible his life is. and everytime you'd feed him porridge, you'd always do the airplane thingy. "here comes the airplane woooo!" "i am NOT a child." then proceeds to consume the whole spoon. he's such a cutie ugh.

jeonghan — enjoys your company so much. he ended up pretending to be sick for a whole ass week just to get off work and bathe in your glorious presence and hospitality even though his fever has already gone away a day after. "babeeee could you please fetch me the remote?" with big eyes and a slight pout. you always fall for it and he's genuinely so happy everytime you do.

joshua — could barely function normally cuz his fever is almost sucking the life out of him. voice, hoarse. mind, dizzy. body, sore. and he keeps repeating "love if you ever get sick i'll treat you ten times better." you just hum and nod, smiling at the stuff he keeps blurting out so randomly. he's literally fusing with the bed he can't get out cuz his body is sooo sore and weak. you feel so bad for him you end up staying at his side until his fever dissipates.

jun — pretends to be fine. like literally. "babe do you wanna get these slippers?" "omg look at this super cute reel about cats!!" he tries to hide the fact that he is NOT feeling well and is actually almost close to passing out. he even tries to eat spicy shit to relieve the feeling but it fails everytime. you end up finding out about his condition and basically grounding him to his room. and suddenly he constantly whines about his condition as if just earlier he wasn't wheezing over ig reels.

hoshi — absolutely ADORES it whenever you take care of him. blurts out random shit about his eternal love for you everytime you're near. "baby i wuv yu 🥺" out of NOWHERE. and he's giggling for no reason too. constantly asks for kisses despite his condition almost like his only motive is to get you sick w him so you two would be matching. and everytime you leave the room he starts whining SOOO LOUD. he even starts huffing, pouting, like the "hmph!!" typa shit LMAOO i love him sm

wonwoo — tries everything he could to make you not find out about his little fever. he keeps saying to himself "i can take care of myself" and the moment you show up to his door he suddenly crumbles and collapses into your arms. and ngl he had the LONGEST fever you've ever encountered. it lasted for almost a week which meant you had call off work for 5 days. you sometimes pull up those fruit sensory videos on your phone and he actually watches them. he sometimes even giggles. and he constantly frog blinks too omg hes so cute wtf.

woozi — stays in his studio claiming he's busy. and when the members found out about his fever they'd immediately tell you about it. "no i don't need help." even though his face is clearly red, snot almost running down his nose, limbs shaking and his eyes are genuinely pleading for care. he has his whole body covered in a blanket and only his eyes are visible. he looked so cute you ended up taking a picture and moving it to one of your folders dedicated to 'uji stolen pics'.

dk — genuinely he's just on low battery the whole time he's sick. he's not laughing nor cracking up any dumb jokes. just smiling fondly at you whenever you do something to relieve/lift the effect the fever has on him. and he can't stop staring at you too. just a weak, frail "thank you :)" whenever you feed him warm soup or replace his ice packs. and he's always ALWAYS asleep whenever he has a fever. like he was asleep until afternoon you actually almost panicked thinking he was dead. almost like he's recharging.

mingyu — immediately messages you "babe i'm sick :(((" and now you're running to his place like your life depended on it and it did. when you arrived he was genuinely a MESS. his hair is tousled, eyes are half-lidded and his lips are always in a pout. AND HE KEEP WHINING. even if you feed him soup, massage his legs, give him comforting words he is STILL whining. although deep down he really appreciates your care for him :( it's just he can't handle the fever and has to resort to letting out his suffering through random noises.

minghao — another one of the hiders, doesn't want you to find out thinking he can take care of himself. he keeps hiding his immense migraines and the sore feeling in his body. ends up making it obvious which leads to you to the rescue. and for no ABSOLUTE reason, he keeps trying to kiss you. claiming that kissing you would make him feel better and they do! just not on his fever though. he's also very sensitive and tends to resort to being glued into his bed. didn't care when you found out he was sick he NEEDED your help.

seungkwan — "this stupid fever." he genuinely needs a shoulder to lay on. he keeps grumbling about the problems his fever is causing and he DID rant about the problems. just with alot of pauses and stuttering. ngl you were surprised when he was quiet. he tends to be quiet during his vulnerable times even though he wants to let out the loudest whine ever, he thinks you might be annoyed (you wouldn't). during these times he could freely rant about his problems. and half of them included soonyoung LMAO

vernon — tries to isolate himself but no he's not going anywhere cuz you refuse. watches cat epic fail videos while he's sick cuz it's his only escapism. when you finally arrived, his screentime was cut extremely short. just wants to be by your side and he really enjoys your company :) although he is STILL trying to be nonchalant about it. "no i'll feed myself." then proceeds to do anything but feed himself. he keeps squirming too and bonus, HE CAN'T SLEEP. so you have to pull up asmr videos.

dino — honestly it's super normal to him on how you're taking care of him as if your life depended on it. you even have 3 checklists dedicated to relieving his condition. he also almost cried cuz the pain in both his head and body was too much for him to handle :( poor chan. despite his fever, he clings onto you alot like a koala. 'fever? dgaf next.' typa shit 😭

#[米兹].🍀https//:myzi.fart #seventeen x reader #seventeen #hoshi x reader #scoups x reader #dino x reader #seventeen imagines #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #jun x reader #wonwoo x reader #woozi x reader #dk x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader

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lassieposting · 2 years ago

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Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 meta #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #mom said it's my turn to project on the blorbo #astarion ancunin

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skzophreniic · 1 year ago

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Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader

Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol

Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact

Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol

chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.

which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--

delectable.

he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.

that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.

he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.

"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."

his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."

"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.

he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"

your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.

"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."

before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.

he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.

your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.

"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"

in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.

"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.

he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.

he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.

he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.

"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.

"does it look okay?"

he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.

you groan.

"it looks awful doesn't it?"

"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"

#straykids #bang chan #straykids fanfic #bangchan fic #skz #bangchan fanfic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #bangchan fluff #smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #bangchan smut

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sugar-omi · 8 months ago

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Help I can't stop thinking about an insatiable pussy hungry Cove

Like imagine you're chilling with him one evening and he begs for a little taste, just a little treat before dinner

Next thing you know it's way past dinner time, you're writhing around on the couch while Cove holds your legs open with firm grip on your quivering thighs

You no longer know how many times you've come and your legs and his face are soaking wet

And it's not over yet

THIS…. he’s not an award winning eater for nothing.

NSFW, drabble, fem/afab reader

honestly, it’s on you for missing dinner. you know cove loves to eat you out, the amount of times you’ve had dinner late, been late, or have entirely missed a function or activity because cove refuses to pull his tongue off your pussy is immeasurable.

but you fall for it every time because his tongue feels so good and after all this time, if he hasn’t eaten you out within the last 48 to 72 hours. you’re restless.

he’s gotten you addicted to being eaten out, addicted to the feeling of his tongue moving as deep as it can inside the heat of your sloppy cunt, addicted to hearing the slurping and groans he lets out when you grind on his face,

he completely unfolds you with his tongue, he’s an expert at it now, his hands more busy keeping your thrashing legs from knocking him in the head. his reasoning?

“you taste so good.. i don’t wanna waste it…”

when he said it, you couldn’t help but blush hotly. cove never says something so nasty.. so… so sexy.

you have to admit though, he doesn’t even need to have his fingers join in, his tongue is long and thick and reaches most of the sweet spots that make you tick…

and the way his lips suck on your clit like he’s trying to drink through a straw, lapping his tongue over the bullied pearl in apology.

he knows what he’s doing, and he’s ate you out in nearly every position, pressed different vibrators and clit suction onto your poor clit, stuffed you with bullet vibrators and hooked his lips to your clit until you’re shaking, pushing against his head with your fists tangled in seafoam green locks, then sinking his hot tongue into you, pushing the vibrator deeper and still circling his thumb around your clit, pinching and pulling the poor nub until you’re almost in tears.

oh, and the one time he came inside of you… your body was so weak and tired, hickeys painting your skin from your neck to your collarbones, but your body was still alight with desire and cove knew if he sunk into you again, pressing his fat tip into that sweet spot that has you seeing stars, you wouldn’t wanna stop.

but cove sinking down until his body is between your legs, and immediately lapping his tongue over your leaking hole isn’t something you were ready for..

he groans when the taste of his cum hits his tongue, slipping his tongue into your convulsing walls.

“cove!” you sobbed, hands finding his hair and your knees instinctively try to come together.

he licks up the length of your cunt, finding his way to your clit and sucking, swallowing the load of cum in his mouth and teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue..

sinks back down to your weeping hole, trying to reach as deep into your cunt as he possibly can, it’s almost like he’s trying to scoop out your insides as well, his tongue is moving around so differently compared to when he’s trying to make you feel good…

this is a very alternative idea to “cleaning up” but it feels so good.. your insides are still sensitive from when he was just inside of you, aching and leaking slick and cum all over his tongue.

it’s filthy. and it’s what gets you addicted to letting him go down on you, no matter where you are.

his eager, skilled tongue carving a path through your insides and pulling all the spots that bring you pleasure. and his deep blue eyes looking up at you from between your thighs.. it drives you crazy, and you’re obsessed with it. you need his tongue, badly..

that’s why it’s so easy for him to nudge your legs home, pull your pants down and latch onto your cunt. the second he falls between your legs, you’re trembling, your panties dampening with arousal and your body flushing red hot.

so of course you’re pulled down the couch, your body twisting and arching in pleasure, and your legs trembling and kickingly wildly.

he already ate you out this morning before you left for work, if you didn’t know any better, you’d be surprised that he’s still raring to go for more, and even more surprised that you’re so willing.

yet here you are, your legs thrown over his shoulders and moans falling from your lips like snowflakes, and his hooked his arms around your thighs while he makes out with your cunt, his lips sucking and kissing your sex like he would if he was kissing you, his tongue slipping into your hole, curling his tongue against that spot that makes your legs kick, and a wanton moan rips from your throat.

the sound is obscene and loud, you can’t help but smack a hand over your mouth, trying to cover it up and hold back and other lewd sounds that would risk you a noise complaint.

but cove raises from between your legs, grabbing your wrist and urging you to look at him…

and you do, you look at him from under your lashes and heavy eyelids, feeling like you could moan at the sight of his wet chin and red lips.

“don’t hide your sounds… i wanna hear you when i make you cum.”

your eyes flutter shut, your stomach clenching at the thought. cove is going to be the death of your poor heart..

#olba #cove holden x reader #cove holden #our life: beginnings & always #smut #cove holden smut

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needlereads · 1 year ago

Text

Primal Functions

dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, non-con, breeding, bondage

A/N: woooo. this intrusive scenario would not leave my brain. continuation of Hardwired.

=======================

He had your hands tied up, out of the way. The rope looped under both your knees, keeping your legs folded up. It gave Steve the most delectable view of your pussy, ripe and sensitive from the two times he had already pressed his thick cock into your hole to fill you with his cum.

He hadn't fucked you. No, as punishment, Steve was forced to jerk himself close to completion and only then did he thrust into you to deliver his seed. It minimized stimulation and pleasure for you, all while allowing him the alluring view of your body, your dips and curves, begging for his attention.

You had tried crossing the boundary of his property again. So here you were, all trussed up, the better to learn your lesson.

For a while, Steve left you untouched. Only spread open and at his disposal. He jerked at his cock, drinking in the sight of you, until he was at the edge, and only then did he push into you so his cum found home in your ripe cunt.

He slowly stroked his cock, still hard and eager for you. He had managed not to fuck you this long. But at this point, your naked body laid at his mercy tempted him beyond his control. Throw in your teary eyes gazing up to him, and well, Steve was only a man in love.

"See? When you're bad, we both hurt. I can't give you the loving you deserve." Even flushed with arousal, he stayed stern. "All I can do is treat you like the bad little doll you are." He didn't prefer treating you like his little cumdump, but you had pushed him to this.

And now, you were unable to resist the lust he stoked in you -- from his bare, adonis form looming over you, to his cock covered in slick that pumped cum into you while leaving you unsatisfied.

Your struggle had grown weak. Steve made sure the bonds kept you in place for the most part; the little wriggling that you managed with your hips, well, you were a vision that fueled Steve's desire.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, then sheathed himself in you, sighing as he watched your tight hole take him in. "So fucking pretty."

He kneaded you hip, caressed your calf. Hungry for you, his tongue traced the undercurve of your breast, salivating for the fullness of your tits. You arched into the heat of his mouth. Your legs tensed. You couldn't help the relief, the yearning, your skin ached for contact.

He sucked the point of your breast, forcing a whimper from you. In that softly dangerous purr, you could hear him.

"This is what you need. Isn't it...Look at you." He left wet kisses up your shoulder. He groaned, grinding against you. Your wrecked sigh had him huffing a laugh. How could you fathom being apart from him when he made you feel so good.

His fingertips teased down the back of your thigh, sending tingles though you. You could not resist stirring some more. Even the smallest shift from you changed the pressure of your pussy around his cock, so that Steve's head dropped back. His grip on your hip tightened, making you whine.

His thumb lightly played at your clit. You panted, as he added more pressure, and stayed buried deep. You grew hotter, his torture on your clit drawing pleasure higher.

Jaw tight, he soaked in your breathy sounds. That relentless friction on your clit finally drove you over the edge. Your orgasm had your body stiffening, your cunt pulsing around his shaft so deliciously. He was done holding back. A sob escaped your lips and Steve reveled in it.

Growling, Steve pulled back and thrust hard into you. "God, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, taking me so good." He worked his hips, driving into you hard, making you cry out. "I'm gonna fill you up so much."

=======================

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #x reader #dark!steve rogers

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wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

Note

Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡

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megalony · 1 year ago

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Resemblance

This is an Evan Buckley imagine I just had to write after watching the newest episodes. I hope you will all like it, please please let me know what you think.

(A few spoilers for S7 but not too many)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sorry, am I… early?"

Confusion pooled on (Y/n)'s face as she took a look around the room she had walked into.

She knew she had arrived a few minutes late. She thought by now that the room would be crammed with people and she would have a hard time walking in with how packed it would be and how her panic would flare up. But as (Y/n) looked around the function room that had been booked out, her lips rolled into a thin line and her eyes narrowed.

There were only two people in here; one of whom was her boyfriend.

Her eyes scanned between the pair of them, soaking them in and assessing what they were wearing and drinking in what they looked like. Well, more specifically, what Evan looked like.

He had on a plain white shirt that stuck to his chest, outlining his collar bone that stuck out prominently and also gluing to his abs. Over his shirt, he wore a blazer the shade of pastel mint blue with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And matching trousers that were pulled rather high up on his waist. (Y/n) noticed that the front button on his trousers barely managed to do up, it looked like it would pop open and take someone's eye out at any moment.

But Evan looked ravishing.

"Right on time, babe."

Evan's voice broke (Y/n) out of her lusting thoughts and she grinned, relaxing into herself a little more when he advanced towards her.

His hands found her upper arms and he pulled her close until her chest bumped into his and her hands found his shoulders to steady herself. (Y/n) tilted her head up and let Evan capture her in a kiss, melting in the way that his teeth scraped out along her lower lip and how when she parted her lips for air, he stole her breath in one swoop.

When they parted, Evan tipped his forehead down against hers and the way he sighed made (Y/n)'s knees go weak. He was relieved she was here, she could feel it in the way he gripped her arms and how he found it hard to hold himself up rather than let himself melt into her.

"Go on then, what're you supposed to be?" He murmured softly, letting his eyes rake up and down her choice of dress for tonight.

He felt (Y/n)'s fingers tighten around his shoulders while he looked down at her deep turquoise jumpsuit. It flared out at the ankles, mostly covering the black ankle boots she wore and it had two thin straps looped over each shoulder.

It was a perfect fit, hugging each curve on (Y/n)'s body and the V-shaped neckline was where Evan's eyes kept dropping to.

"Abba… Waterloo?" (Y/n) looked down at her jumpsuit before she looked back up at Evan.

When he said tonight was an eighties theme, (Y/n) wasn't sure what to wear. She didn't want to go full outfit or costume because she could tell that Evan wasn't going for that vibe. It seemed like a casual dress kind of party and when (Y/n) found this old jumpsuit, she realised it was perfect to match the Waterloo video from Abba.

Her black ankle boots would have to do rather than finding a pair of over the top knee-length blue boots with thick heels. (Y/n) thought she looked rather good and no one would know she was coming to a themed party which made her calmer since she had arrived alone.

"Brilliant," His voice was soft and his eyes creased with the wide smile that danced across his lips.

He leaned down and stole another kiss before he finally turned, remembering they weren't the only people in the room.

Evan curled his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist, tucking her into his side while he moved his right hand to run up and down his chin and along the side of his jaw. His smile turned sweet and he glanced his eyes from (Y/n) over to Eddie who was stood near the buffet table, hidden mostly behind his glass of beer.

"Babe, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is (Y/n), who I was telling you about." He rubbed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and pressed his lips to the top of her head. He felt (Y/n)'s hand graze across the front of his chest and her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she smiled sweetly.

"It's great to finally meet you."

(Y/n) smiled across at the only other person in the room, trying to take in the sight of him and see whether he looked like the image she had built up in her head. The image of Evan's best friend. The man who had been with him through thick and thin, on all the good calls and the bad. The person who fought for Evan almost as hard as his sister did. The man Evan had clawed through the dirt to try and find and who Evan had dragged beneath a fire truck when they got shot at.

The person in front of her did indeed match the rough outline she had come up with in her head.

He was slightly shorter than Evan, with his brown locks slicked back on his head into waves which would suit Evan if he grew his hair longer like he used to have it.

His suit was a ringer for Evan's too, a lovely pastel pink that matched Evan's cheeks and nose when he was just starting to blush at something.

"I- I… hi."

Eddie couldn't formulate a sentence. He couldn't string together one simple word or even a small 'hello' which would have been a lot better than what had just passed his lips. The only thing on his mind was one word that haunted him in the dead of night and followed him around like a shadow he couldn't shake.

Shannon.

There she was. There was his wife. The woman he hadn't been able to forget for the last four years. The woman who seemed to ruin every relationship he was in because no woman he found would ever match what he had with her.

And now she was stood in front of him. He could see Shannon in those eyes. Those deep eyes that were like black holes pulling him in until he was lost forever, unable to return to his former self. The curve of her lips was the same and her smile made her lips part like she was looking at him in wonder of something he couldn't quite place.

The way she tilted her head to one side was the way Shannon always looked at him whenever something was playing on his mind and she wanted to find out. Or how she looked at him when he was being sweet and she didn't know he knew she was staring at him.

Even the way she laughed quietly when Evan murmured something into her ear was exactly the way Eddie remembered his wife laughing when she was in public and didn't want to draw attention to herself.

How was this even possible?

How could the girl Evan was forever talking about, the one who had captured his heart so quickly and who seemed to know him like the back of her hand, how could she be the person Eddie was looking for in his dreams?

How could she be what Eddie was searching for? A way to get Shannon back in his life, in some form or another. A way to feel absolved of the guilt he carried with him like a weight in his heart, forever present, never gone. A way to tell Shannon how sorry he was, how much he loved her, how much he wanted her back because what they had was what Eddie wanted. It was something he wanted so desperately. Something he couldn't find with any other woman, no matter what or how hard he tried.

Could Eddie find it with her? In another world, could she be his second chance, rather than Evan's?

"Yeah, so Eddie's halfway to being pissed. Do you want a drink?" He spoke against (Y/n)'s temple and squeezed her waist, silently telling her that this wasn't how Eddie normally was.

He was usually first to have introductions and make people feel welcome and he was easy to get along with. Clearly he was somewhere else tonight and he was on his way to being drunk. He didn't have Chris tonight and he knew Chris was safe with his Abuela so he could let loose and get ad drunk as he liked tonight.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." Evan muttered against her temple and (Y/n) suddenly regretted what she'd just said when he sauntered out of the room towards the bar that was right outside the doorway.

Turning her head to the right, (Y/n) looked across at Eddie and tried her best to look calm and approachable.

The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to get off to a bumpy start with her partner's best friend. She knew how important Eddie was to Evan and (Y/n) wanted to make a good impression. She wanted to try and get along with all of Evan's friends who would be here tonight, but Eddie especially. He was like a brother to Evan and therefore (Y/n) wanted to get to know him and find common ground with him.

With that thought in mind, (Y/n) laced her fingers together in front of her and slowly glided across the room towards Eddie.

He was stood near the end of the buffet table, staring at it longingly like a man who'd been starved for days. He almost looked ravenous.

One hand was stuffed into his trouser pocket and the other was holding his glass right under his nose. Although, (Y/n) hadn't actually seen him take a sip considering how long he'd held the glass over his lips. It was almost as if he was using the glass as a mask to hide behind rather than to refresh himself and have a drink.

"You don't look drunk to me." (Y/n) spoke quietly but the glimmer in her eyes had Eddie's heart stuttering out an incomprehensible rhythm that physically pained him.

He could feel his shoulders pulling inwards and his upper body pushed forward like his chest was suddenly weighed down with stones.

"Hm, not yet. Soon."

There. He was speaking. Not much, not properly, but it was something. He was moving in the right direction, although he didn't quite know which direction he should be going in with her.

Why was she looking at him like that? Why did she have to smile like that? Her smile was infectious. It always had been; it was like a drug to Eddie and he wanted to get high. He wanted to get higher than he'd ever gotten before.

His eyes darted down to her lips more than once until all he could stare at was the way she darted her tongue across to wet them and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. He felt his stomach tensing and pulling inwards and when (Y/n) leaned across to look over the table, Eddie's eyes followed her.

He followed the way her hair fanned across her shoulders when she leaned over. He watched how her chin tilted down and obscured his view of those lips that resembled the ones he had missed so much. He noticed the way she pushed on one foot and leaned off the other when she stretched over to reach for one of the bowls of crisps on the table.

Before he could stop himself, Eddie reached out for her hand. He lowered his glass down so it hovered over his chest while his left hand untucked from his pocket and curled around (Y/n)'s wrist.

The way his fingers skimmed across the back of her hand sent electricity surging through his blood and Eddie suddenly felt alive. He felt on edge, reinvented, brought back to life. Charged.

"Buck wants to wait for Chimney… almost lost my arm when I went for a sausage roll." He couldn't find his usual voice. He was either speaking in hushed tones or an octave deeper than he was used to, there didn't seem to be an inbetween anymore for his normal voice.

(Y/n) stayed perfectly still when Eddie continued to hold her wrist. She could feel his fingers tapping against her hand like he had a beat in his head he was trying to drum out against her. Her back was starting to ache from staying hovered over the table, but she didn't know how to move.

Something about the way Eddie was gripping her hand made her feel nervous, worried even.

She felt like moving away from him would cause him to tighten his grip and pull her back. She worried that dropping eye contact with him would flare up some kind of reaction.

There was something about the way that Eddie looked at her that made (Y/n) feel vulnerable and afraid. It was as if he knew her but somehow, she didn't know him. He was searching for something and it was frightening. (Y/n) didn't know what he was looking for when he stared at her like that and she wasn't sure how to act around him or what to do.

When she suddenly felt his thumb glide around the underside of her wrist, she froze. He applied the slightest bit of pressure until her pulse was throbbing against his skin and she realised he was trying to feel her heartbeat.

What was he doing that for?

"Then don't let him see." (Y/n) found the will to move her hand forward and she was relieved when Eddie let go of her wrist almost as swiftly as he had reached out for her.

She took a sausage roll and popped it in her mouth while Eddie reached for a handful of crisps and followed her lead.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) took a step away from the table just as the door opened and her sights set on her partner. She felt relieved, more than relieved, to see Evan again and feel the tension start to fade from the room.

When it was just the three of them, the atmosphere felt calmer. Even after Hen and Karen, Ravi and then Tommy all arrived and subsequently left a few hours later. It still felt a little more relaxed after they had gone and (Y/n) wondered if it was because Evan and Eddie had come here with the intention of letting loose and having a good night, whether the rest of the team joined in with them or not.

She had a feeling that Tommy would have stayed to have a party and he would have had some fun with them, if he didn't get called in for a shift.

Moving out of that function room and going into the actual bar felt a lot better, it was like the three of them could come out of their shells and relax.

(Y/n) couldn't keep up with the amount of shots Evan and Eddie were taking, and she didn't want to either. One of them had to be somewhat responsible and able to get them into a cab home and call it a night when things got a little too intense or went overboard. Someone had to keep an eye on everything.

A lazy, mostly tipsy smile graced (Y/n)'s lips when she tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder.

She felt his arms tighten around her waist and his chin perched on her shoulder so he could look down at her. The way his knees started to jitter up and down made (Y/n)'s stomach churn and also made her head start to spin. He was so fuelled on alcohol that he was starting to vibrate.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sat on his lap. As long as it had been since she last went up to the bar and Evan dragged her down to sit with- or rather on- him because he said he was starting to feel lonely. How someone could feel lonely after only three minutes was beyond (Y/n), but she was more than happy to make him feel loved and secure again.

"Want another drink?"

"Hmm, I'm running on empty." He looked towards his glass which had been empty for the last ten minutes, but he didn't have the will power to get up. Or the energy to let (Y/n) climb off his lap either.

He tilted his head round and pecked her lips once, then twice. Then again until he was taking every ounce of breath held within her lungs and he had her hands digging into his wrists while he swallowed every moan he ellicited from her mouth.

"Won't be long," (Y/n) spoke against his lips, wriggling on his lap both to tease him and to get him to let her up.

She felt his hands slip round to hold her hips while she got up from his lap, taking a few seconds to find her balance. She wasn't quite drunk yet, at least not on Evan and Eddie's level, but she was getting there.

Evan's hands stayed on her waist as long as they could and she felt one hand curve round to her bum before she was finally too far away for him to hold. And he slumped back against the leather booth, whining and stretching his arms out like a lovesick child waiting and begging for attention.

It was cute.

It was more than cute, it was endearing. (Y/n) stole a glance over her shoulder and blew him a kiss before she veered to the right and wobbled towards the bar.

Her arms folded over the bar that was slightly damp and sticky with beer, vodka and God knows what else. But she didn't care. She flagged down the barmaid and mumbled "Refill please."

She knew the woman would know what drinks she was after. The amount of times they had all been up and down to the bar within the last two hours was almost unbelievable. Her fingers drummed against the counter and her lower back arched out while she leaned her head to one side and waited patiently for her drinks.

"Are we having shots?"

That dark, sugary voice took (Y/n) by surprise and she looked over her left shoulder, watching as Eddie stumbled over to her. He managed to keep himself on his feet without falling on the floor and he drummed his palms down on the counter.

His smile was so wide that his eyes were barely open anymore and he flashed his pearly whites in a smile that was clearly intoxicated but still amusing and rather cheeky too.

Somewhere during the evening, Eddie had taken off his shirt and his blazer, but now he was back in his blazer again which was left unbuttoned, showing off his shirt to anyone who wanted a look. His chin tilted down and his teeth sank into his lower lip but it didn't obscure his smile.

"No more shots for me, but you go ahead." (Y/n) didn't fancy anymore. One more shot would be enough to keel her over or have her throwing up in the toilets.

"Ah, come on. You're good at shots."

"I've had about two," (Y/n) laughed, tipping her head back before she pushed up to stand a bit straighter and clear her head. She had done two shots with the boys tonight and both of them had made her cough, even if she had downed them quicker than Evan had managed his.

"You were always good at shots. You could drink me under the table any day."

What did that mean? Where did that come from? What was he talking about?

(Y/n)'s brows furrowed and she let her head fall down at an angle while she tried to think over Eddie's words with the sober part of her mind. She hadn't met Eddie before tonight. She hadn't done shots with Evan on many occasions so surely he wouldn't have said anything to Eddie about (Y/n) being good with downing shots.

She had never drank Eddie under the table and he had far surpassed her on the drinking front. He was three miles ahead near the finish line while (Y/n) was hanging back. So what was he talking about?

"Come on, let's have some shots." It was as if his previous comment had been discarded and (Y/n) found herself nodding, although she wasn't sure if they were both on the same page or not.

She watched the barmaid place their drinks down on a tray along with six shot glasses which she started to fill up, per Eddie's request. But her eyes darted across to Eddie again when she suddenly felt his hand on top of her own.

It was different to how he had held her earlier. This wasn't him silently trying to tell her not to antagonise her boyfriend when he was in organising mode. This wasn't him holding her and subtly checking her pulse as if he thought she might be unwell or panicking over something. This wasn't Eddie holding her wrist and staring at her with a million questions she couldn't decipher nor understand.

There was an urgency in the way he dug his fingers into her wrist. He started to squeeze tighter and tighter until (Y/n) was sure she was going to have indents from where his fingers were.

When (Y/n) looked up at his eyes, she could see one hundred and one things burning within them. A drunken haze had taken over his pupils that were very dilated, but there was something in his brown orbs that made her panic. What was he doing? What was running through his mind?

"I've missed you," He tugged her hand closer until it was near his chest and he swayed back before leaning forwards, trying to find his balance in his drunken state. "So, so much."

"Eddie…"

What was she supposed to say to that? He was drunk. He was clearly thinking about something, or someone, and deflecting it onto (Y/n). She didn't know how to help or how to diffuse this situation.

"I love it when you say my name." He leaned closer and (Y/n) feared he was leaning in for a kiss.

"I- I don't understand."

He started laughing. His laugh was almost cynical and the way he tossed his head back towards the ceiling and started to run his free hand over his chin made (Y/n) take a sharp breath. It was almost like he was teasing her or making fun of her, but she wasn't so sure that was what he was doing.

She wanted to move, to take a step back and go over to Evan and tell him Eddie was drunk and might need to call it a night. But she couldn't go anywhere when Eddie yanked her wrist so sharply it was as if he had pulled a muscle. He dragged her arm across the bar until she slumped against it and her head tilted back to look up at him in fear.

"You shouldn't have left." Where did he think she had gone? Who did he think she was? What did he think was happening?

His grip on her wrist was tightening by the second and the smile faded from his lips when he leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. From a distance, it looked like he was going to tell her a secret or whisper some little knowing thought to her. But (Y/n) wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth next and she didn't know what to do or how to get out of his grip.

"Come home." His words were almost a whisper and something softened in his eyes for a brief second.

When she saw his eyes glazing over again and the hardened exterior coming back, she took her chance to wrench her wrist from his grasp.

Her trembling fingers curled around the drinks tray and she turned around, stumbling to aim for Evan who was on his phone, clearly messaging someone. Although he was having a hard time typing, he was squinting to try and see his keyboard clearly.

Eddie was just drunk. He was clearly having one of those moments and (Y/n) doubted he would remember this in the morning.

But she would. And his actions frightened her.

Who did he think she was? What else would he have done if she didn't manage to slip away from him? Why was he acting so strange around her?

***

Adreanline sparked in (Y/n)'s stomach when she felt a familiar pair of arms curve around her waist and Evan's fingers digging into her hips lovingly. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling her back into his firm chest while he leaned over so his chin rested on top of (Y/n)'s head. It almost felt like he was a blanket or a jacket perfectly shaping and curving around her.

Reaching her hands down, (Y/n) held onto Evan's wrists and gave a little squeeze, letting her shoulders tilt back into his chest so she was leaning on him slightly.

Her eyes cast up and her head tilted back until she managed to catch his eye and grin up at him. She felt him press a kiss to her temple before she looked back ahead of them.

She had never been to a hospital wedding before.

It was a different experience, having everyone cramped into the same room, all coiled together. Some smartly dressed, others wearing something casual that they slipped into last minute to make sure they were here on time.

Although (Y/n) had to admit that seeing Evan's niece in her little dress holding her balloon was a beautiful sight that made her heart melt.

For this being the first time (Y/n) had met most of Evan's team, they all seemed lovely and they were very welcoming.

She had met Maddie already, but this was the first time she had been introduced to Chimney which felt so strange to first meet someone with them lying in a hospital bed.

"…You can now kiss the bride."

She felt Evan's arms tightening around her and she grinned, dancing her eyes across the room that was packed like sardines before she looked back up at Evan. Pushing up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned when Evan tilted his head to catch her lips with his.

When they pulled apart, (Y/n) shivered at the feeling of Evan's lips gliding across her jaw until they moved to hover over the shell of her ear.

"I'm glad you're here with me." He murmured softly into her ear, feeling the way (Y/n) took a deep breath and the feel of her heartbeat pulsing beneath her skin. There weren't many special moments in Evan's life that weren't overshadowed by other things or people he'd rather forget.

To have (Y/n) here with him today to celebrate with his family made all the difference in the world to Evan. He felt comfortable, having (Y/n) in his arms made him feel complete. Like everyone in this room had someone to share the moment with, and now, so did he.

Maddie's first wedding had been a day Evan wanted to forget. It hadn't been a big occasion, most of the guests had been Doug's side of the family. And their parents hadn't bothered to show up, something Evan would never forgive them for because of how distraught it had made Maddie.

And there were so many occasions and parties and times when Evan had been there alone or he felt like an outsider. Or something had happened at work or with a partner that had dampened his mood.

So having (Y/n) in his arms, making him feel loved and happy and whole meant this day was going to be a good day. It was going to be a memory that wouldn't be tainted by bad thoughts or moods or by something bad happening.

"Me too." (Y/n) let her temple rest against Evan's jaw and she took a moment to close her eyes and savour in the feeling of his embrace.

Her lips curved up and her hands tightened around his wrists when he gently but firmly started to tug her backwards with him towards the wall. Moving them both out the way so that Maddie could move and the cake could be brought in.

Pulling on Evan's arms, (Y/n) pushed up on her toes and hovered her lips over his ear.

"Just going to the bathroom, save me some cake."

"Will do." He muttered against her cheek, turning to steal another kiss from her lips before he eventually let her squirm out of his arms.

(Y/n) tilted her head down, a shy smile gracing her lips as she coiled her arms into her chest and slowly weaved her way through the other guests in the room. She tried not to push or bump into anyone and wormed her way out the door, taking a deep breath when she was finally back in the corridor.

It was lovely to see so many people enjoying the ceremony, but it wasn't great for them all to be cramped together like that. The A/C had been turned on full blast once everyone was inside the room so they didn't overheat or begin to sweat. It was good to have a little breather and some room to herself.

Once the room had started to fill up, Evan had graciously looped his arms around (Y/n) and moved her in front of him to keep her close and so she didn't have to be too close to people she barely knew. He knew wrapping himself around her would make her feel at ease. The last thing he wanted was for (Y/n) to panic.

Rattling her fingers through her hair, (Y/n) smiled to herself and made her way down the corridor and turned the corner. She wasn't too sure where the nearest toilets would be, but she was sure she would find them on her walk.

"Hey,"

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s chest and sent shockwaves down to her stomach that became electrified.

Eddie.

She hadn't realised he wasn't in the room either. She should have noticed. She should have looked around the room again and noticed that his son and his aunt were there, but he had seemingly slipped away. Since she and Evan had turned up at the hospital this morning, (Y/n) had glued herself to his side and kept a look out for his friend.

Part of her wondered if Eddie remembered any of what he'd said or done last night. She wondered if he remembered acting strange around her or grabbing her or telling her to come home, something that had confused (Y/n) greatly.

But the way he nodded and smiled at her this morning when he arrived and how he patted her shoulder in passing like they were old friends made (Y/n) doubt herself.

She doubted whether last night had happened. Whether she was overreacting or if the alcohol had made it seem worse than it was.

Eddie not remembering any of what he said last night was a blessing though. It meant he wasn't going to act awkward around (Y/n) and it meant she could try and forget it and move on and try to make bridges with Eddie and be friends.

She wanted to be friends with him. She knew from the way that Evan spoke about him that Eddie was a great guy and she wanted nothing more than for them all to get along together. For Evan's sake.

"Hi," (Y/n) dipped her head down and ran her hand up and down her arm while she tried to control herself.

Don't act strange around him. Be normal, he doesn't remember.

"Have I missed the cake?"

"No, no they're just cutting it now… it's a bit cramped in there." She looked over her shoulder, unsure whether she was referencing the crowded room or whether she was hoping someone would round the corner and join their conversation.

"It can get a bit much, with everyone around."

Eddie stuffed a hand in his trouser pocket and moved his other hand to trace across his jaw. He hadn't shaved yet. He needed to shave. Shannon always hated it when he tried to grow stubble, she liked to trace her finger across his jawline and feel how sharp and smooth it was. There hadn't been time to shave this morning; Eddie barely had the time to get changed from his messed up suit, let alone run a hand through his hair and freshen up.

"Just a bit." (Y/n) tried to smile and tilted her head to one side. "Do you know where the nearest bathroom is?"

Her eyes narrowed and something flashed across her eyes when she noticed that Eddie seemed to be drifting. He was staring down at her hands that were interlocked in front of her, but it was like his mind was somewhere else completely.

"Eddie, are you okay?" (Y/n) took a deep breath and moved a little bit closer when it looked like Eddie was in a trance.

Maybe he was still feeling rough from last night. He certainly looked worse for wear when she saw him earlier this morning.

Placing her hand on his arm didn't seem to be the right move. The moment she touched him, Eddie seemed to snap out of his trance. His head bolted up from staring at her hands. His shoulders stiffened and pulled up. His lips pressed into a firm line that almost made him look angry, if it weren't for the sorrow building up in his eyes.

"Eddie?"

Panic pooled in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach when Eddie moved closer. He took long strides until there was no space between them, and then kept moving. His chest hit (Y/n)'s chest and she stumbled back, tripping over her feet as her stomach churned. She wasn't sure how much further she could walk backwards, but when her back hit the wall and Eddie stood in front of her, blocking her exit, she tremored.

What was he doing? What had she done to upset him and make him act this way around her? Surely he wasn't like this around everyone else? Evan never said Eddie had a tendency to be weird or act strange around new people.

"You're here… you're actually here."

She didn't understand. She couldn't understand the utter wonder and relief in Eddie's voice or the tears that were pooling in his eyes which he was desperately trying to push to the sides.

Her hands moved to press into his chest, trying not to be too rough as she tried to push him away. She couldn't have him standing this close to her, effectively pinning her to the wall. What would people say? What would they think if someone walked around the corner? This was the first time (Y/n) was meeting Evan's team and his family, and they would all think she was a cheater if they saw this compromising position.

It wouldn't matter that Eddie had started this and that (Y/n) didn't know what to do or what was happening. No one would care that she hadn't instigated this and that she didn't want this. They would see her as betraying Evan. She would never do that.

"Shannon…"

(Y/n)'s efforts faltered for a brief moment and she exhaled slowly while the wheels started turning in her mind. That wasn't her name. Eddie knew her name. Evan had been talking about introducing her to the team for weeks, he told them all about her. He introduced her last night and Eddie had heard her name. So why was he calling her that?

She couldn't hang up on the name she had never heard or been called before, she had to get Eddie off her. But Eddie felt like a brick wall, unmoveable as a mountain and his chest puffed out and became sturdy when (Y/n) tried to move him away.

Her efforts were in vain and her heartstrings became severed, dropping her heart down to her stomach when Eddie kissed her.

His lips were rough like sandpaper. His force pushed her head back into the wall. His right hand cupped the side of her face and harshly pulled her chin up to keep her level with him.

When she squirmed her head and tried to shove him off, his other hand clamped down on her hip. He pinned her hips into the wall and dug his fingertips into the back of her neck until she was shaking from the force.

Something about the excessive need and the push behind his lips made (Y/n) want to scream. There was so much he was silently trying to tell her in the kiss, but she couldn't understand any of it. She didn't want to. She hated the way his lips bruised hers as he pushed and stole what he could from her.

She felt his tongue bully its way past her lips and something between a gasp and a cry mewled into his mouth when he sank his teeth down into her lip.

(Y/n)'s hands curled into fists and she slammed them down on Eddie's chest with as much force as she could muster, trying to match the power he was pushing into his kiss.

He finally pulled back to claw a deep breath and (Y/n) tried to do the same, gasping for air while she rammed her arms into his chest to get him off her.

"No!" Her fists swung at his chest again when he pressed his weight down onto her chest, pinning her into the wall while he stole another wretched, rough kiss that made her cry.

As soon as she managed to push her weight to the left and drag her head out of his grasp, (Y/n) reared her hand back. She slapped Eddie with as much power as she could muster, watching the way the blood pooled beneath his skin and sent his face a fiery shade that would match the flames in Hell.

The slap seemed to knock some sense into him.

The fog clouding his eyes started to fade and every burning emotion welling up in those brown eyes was replaced with something close to remorse.

"I- I didn't- I'm sorry-"

When Eddie took a step back, (Y/n) stumbled to the side. She added as much space between them as she could while both her arms wrapped around her waist and she gasped for breath.

Why did he do that? She hadn't given him any signals- had she? Surely (Y/n) hadn't led him on in any way either last night or right now. She had tried to be friendly with him and get to know him, but that had been hard last night when Eddie became drunk and seemed to switch personalities. And just now, he hadn't called her by her name.

Who did he think she was?

The way he ran his hand along his jaw before he smothered his palm over his mouth made (Y/n) pause. She could see the panic building up in his eyes and when his free hand clamped down on his hip and he turned away from her, (Y/n) could see what was going through his mind.

Evan.

His best friend. The person who would come out of this worse off if he found out what Eddie had just done. Evan was the understanding type. He forgave people even when they least deserved his understanding and his respect and forgiveness. But (Y/n) didn't know how Evan would react to something like this. Eddie didn't know if this was something Evan would forgive him for.

"Don't do that again."

(Y/n)'s voice came out gritty and hollow and she brushed her hand beneath her eyes, clearing away the tears before she started to sob. She couldn't have anyone seeing her in distress and asking what was wrong.

She couldn't have Evan asking questions. There was no way she could tell him what had happened just now. She couldn't cause problems between him and his best friend, between him and his family. And this was his day. This was Evan's time to be with his sister and have a great day and have some fun and make memories.

(Y/n) could never ruin today for him.

Forgetting about going to the bathroom, (Y/n) bypassed Eddie, leaving as much space between them as she could as she made her way back down the corridor towards the room.

Part of her thought about leaving. She thought about turning left and running out of the hospital and going home. That would ensure she didn't cause any arguments, but she couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Evan first. He would think he had done something wrong and (Y/n) could never put that sort of panic onto him.

She didn't reach the room before a familiar figure caught her eye. Evan was stood out in the corridor, his shoulders slouched into the wall and his phone in his hands.

She didn't give him a chance to look at her. She couldn't risk Evan seeing the remnants of tears in her eyes or notice the panic written across her face. Or see the shallow breaths she was huffing. If he thought something was wrong he would try and find out and if (Y/n) caved in and told him, she would cause a scene and make waves between Evan and his family. She wasn't going to do that.

She ducked beneath his arm to burrow herself into his chest, binding her arms tightly around his waist while her face smothered in his chest. Each breath she took fanned against his dark blue hoodie and it helped to control her breathing and stop her from hyperventilating against him.

"Hey baby… you okay?" Evan finished the text he was sending and bound both arms around (Y/n)'s waist, tilting his head down to kiss the top of her head and breathe into her hair.

She hummed. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do now?

Turning her head, (Y/n) pressed her cheek against Evan's chest and hugged him tighter until she was almost cutting off his circulation. It made him smile against her hair and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

But he felt the shiver that rolled through (Y/n). And she hoped to God that he didn't realise it was because Eddie was walking towards them.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #maddie buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash

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visionsofmagic · 2 years ago

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◜ mk1 men using their powers while f*cking you ◞

▸ includes: reptile, sub zero, scorpion [mk1 versions] ◂

▸ tags: nsfw content, explicit language, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, f!reader, kind of drabble, short, canon as possible as I can, licking, watching, petnames, fingering, edging, human form!syzoth, rude and sharp!sub zero, lover!mk1 characters, brat!reader, heat, cold. enjoy! ◂

▸ notes: watched 4+ hours cutscenes of mortal kombat 1 game and well, kind of fall in love with 80% of mk1 characters, so, couldn't help but write for a few of my fav characters from the game. requests open for the mk1 characters as well & have fun while reading, thank u! ^^ [can publish part 2 of this if you would like too!]

REPTILE is a shy lover. he finds himself trying to hide his nature whenever you two have sex not to hurt you because he knows you’re still fragile even though you try to believe otherwise. he never transforms into his reptile form while fucking you, so hard for him to do that but he would rather endure than hurting you in any way. however, that doesn’t mean he lacks fun and any sort of kinks in sex, no, contrary to that, syzoth has a kinky personality that allows him to like watching you, both as general and in bed - he can’t help, especially not when you’re so beautiful leaning on the bed you two are sharing, trying to give yourself pleasure with your fingers while screaming his name because he is away for a mission as you still believe - not knowing when he will return but here he is, standing right in front of you, watching how your fingers disappear inside your folds, going in and out, mouth agape, moaning his name over and over again as if they’re his fingers - or even his cock inside your walls. he likes how you miss him enough to do all of these.

invisible to your eyes, he watches you until he’s sure you’re so close to the edge, then, chuckling teasingly, he appears slowly, giving you a heart attack right there but you forget all about it when his fingers replace yours, smirking like a brat, green eyes position on your pretty face as he looks at you fondly.

“you’re so needy for me that you can’t wait for a few hours until I return, is that it, pretty?” he chuckles, head tilting and he listens to your pleases like they’re the prettiest sound he has ever heard. he makes you cum, more than once because he says, “if that is the case, I will fuck my pretty girl so deep that she will never forget it even when I leave.”

SUB ZERO is not gentle at all when it comes to having sex with him. he prefers to make you remember who you belong to, whose name you’re screaming, and who makes your legs shake in weakness because he fucks you that good. he doesn’t think about what a kink is in detail but he knows he has a few and he uses them with you without hesitation. you like them as he understands from the voices you make, the expressions your face has, and cumming all over him without announcing because you can’t hold them any longer.

he knows he shouldn’t use any of his abilities while fucking you but he can’t help. he breaks his discipline side and uses them anyway from time to time while having sex with you; decreasing his body temperature when he fucks you behind, kneeling down until your naked back touches his bare chest so that you get close to cum, feeling a sense of chill.

he does that with some parts of his body either; his fingers when they travel on your body, in your mouth, between your thighs and holes - the tip of his tongue when it enters your pussy, making you lose your mind. he even changes its temperature from time to time only to earn the sounds you can't think you're making. he doesn't stop with his attempts of fucking you 'till you have a non-functional brain because of only him - his thick cock, the way he fucks you into oblivion and not holding himself back from using his abilities to his advantage to make you realize only he can fuck you like this. he's fond of your screams after all, begs that want him to stop because it's too much for you to handle go to deaf ears - not even when it's as cold as under a frozen surface of a deep sea.

"so cold, huh?" scoffs, humiliating your pathetic condition, "what were you thinking anyway whore?" he asks, poison in his voice, deep. "think that I would hold back because you beg so nicely?" laughs, holds your hair tightly as he fucks you from behind. "they're only praying for me to go deeper, my pretty slut." and he does - going deeper and colder each passing time and you only can take it all - you're his own pet to enjoy in the end.

SCORPION is a cute lover. he doesn't hurt you in any way as possible as he can, protecting you at all cost, keeping his fire at a minimum level whenever you're around - except while fighting of course. he never uses his abilities against you but oh, he can't deny that he loves it when you are a total brat, asking him to do such naughty things in bed, including using his fire to make intimate sessions more intense than it is needed - you both need it as you say, believing you can endure it and in the end, he accepts your pleases, allowing himself adjoining a few things he can do without hurting you.

firstly, he just uses it on his tongue when it enters your wet pussy, licking from your inner thighs to inside, giving you euphoria. he makes sure not to burn you, enjoying by himself too after seeing how turned on you are in these moments. he is a man who wants to please his lover more than himself in the first place - a gentleman. then, it begins with these simple pleasure times - it evolves into something that even you can't imagine happening and it takes you a long time to realize how scorpion has begun to his abilities on you in order to turn you on often; the cute lover discovers how you're affected by heat - in general, so, he thinks a way to make your heat go up without noticing he's the one who is doing it by increasing his body's heat as he comes near you, giving you hotness you can't ignore and start taking off your clothes one by one.

of course he acts innocent, asking how he can help you, and then smirking, saying how he makes you hot by just standing beside you. catching you in a trap with all his desires to have you, he reaches his plan's top point when you have a sports bra and shorts on your body and nothing else. oh, how he feels a kind of achievement when you agree with him, being naked and having one of the best fucking in your entire life to get rid of your heat after getting horny because of being exposed in front of the man you love.

"my love, you give me a heat even my own power can't give; you have no idea how I am burning for you." he smiles down at you, eyes burning with sparkles of fire, "oh - beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the whole universe I have ever seen. let me burn you the way you are doing to me, my love."

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kalpeavaris · 6 months ago

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Cyn - Creature/Furry AU - [Lore Post]

Worked at the Elliott Manor as a maid, was fairly shunned and often avoided by other Workers due to her appearance and clumsy behaviour. Often reprimanded by the Elliotts for her attitude and way of working, with Tessa encouraging Cyn & making sure she was kept on the estate.

Smaller than any of her siblings (who she does not know, sadly) or most Civets due to malnourishment during her younger years.

Tessa was actually the one to bring Cyn from the labratories she worked at into her home, as Cyn was being used as a "lab rat" for several testings due to her Albinism.

Cyn was the first and only person to come into direct contact with the sample of the "Absolute Solver", a mutated and self-aware Virus strain similar to Rabies or CWD (chronic waste disease).

Tessa brought the sample home in secret to hopefully continue working on cracking its code in her freetime, which is how Cyn found it while cleaning her room.

Due to Cyn's weak immune system the virus took hold of her fairly easily, nestling inside of her brain & being able to speak to her.

Thanks to the Solver's self-awareness of being a virus and its abilities it found the task of manipulating Cyn and using her as host to (hopefully) spread itself in the future fairly easy.

Over time, the Solver convinced Cyn that Tessa & her family were the Ones responsible for her being infected with the "sickness", convincing her to kill everyone on the estate on the night of a very important business meeting / gala event.

After wiping out the entirety of the Elliott family and their guests, Cyn fled the estate to Camp 98.7 where she hid and the Solver slowly started to mutate her body, taking inspiration from several animals and creatures in order to form the "perfect apex" for its plans.

The Solver deemed Cyn's fragile & rather weak appearance and demeanor as "not functional" for its plans, hence the rapid want to transform her. Using its abilities it had the upper hand and ability to change every aspect of the Civets outer appearance, almost shattering her mind while doing so.

What was left of Cyn during the story was... a chimera, all and nothing at the same time, made from parts the Solver deemed "useful" for the future plans it had on its mind. Horns for offense, wings to soar the sky, legs capable of running on both two and four legs, powerful jaws and teeth to kill, scales to protect the body - it saw her as imperfect, each change a desperate try to make her into something that could be deemed "perfect". Wielding the sword she had used to kill the Elliott family, she was ready to go to war for the Solver... albeit unwillingly. The Solver, appearing to her as a huge, grotesque hyena, was always there in the back of her mind (literally), steering her every move. It only allowed Cyn to move by herself when she was alone, often watching and belittling her for having issues to move and coordinate herself in this new body of hers. After the Solver arc and its destruction, Cyn was able to gain the upper hand over her mind - which took alot of time and help from other people (especially N and Uzi). She was capable of changing some aspects of her body "back" in some sense, however, alot is irreversible.

Was able to change her face slightly (removed the scaling on her snout, made it more cat-like with a more rounded appearence) & her ears rounder, similar to how they were as Civet

Made the wings way smaller as she dislikes them. Can't remove them entirely, but them being this small works. She hides them under clothes when she wears them.

Made her tail resemble her old one more with a more rounded tail tip & fluffy appearence.

Walks on both 2 and 4 legs, but due to her changed anatomy she involuntarily prefers 4 legs.

Whenever she walks on 2 legs she has to use the cane, as it's difficult for her to keep herself stable.

The Solver had used her body for so long that it became almost impossible for Cyn to act on her own - when she was possessed, it was like she was watching from a seat in her mind while the Solver moved her.

The first few weeks after her freedom was regained she almost didn't move at all without being told to or prompted by Uzi and N, not out of malice or to annoy them, but simply because she just... didn't know she had to move by herself. She was so used to someone else doing it that she forgot those instincts.

This also applies to her speaking - it was mostly the Solver speaking through her, so Cyn forgot her own voice and got kinda freaked out when she first heard it. Thanks to all the physical changes her voice also changed ALOT - from soft and timid to almost rasp, growly and deep.

Despite her looks she's still very timid. Way more extroverted than her former Civet-self, but still withdrawn from Strangers. When she first met Uzi properly she was kinda taken aback by Uzis extremely outgoing persona :']]

Bit Uzi once during an episode of flashbacks when Uzi assumed her to be conscious and came closer without warning, which resulted in Cyn biting off her arm (don't worry, Uzi gets a sick robotic replacement B]]) Uzi apologized profusely for the incident, while Cyn did the same for hurting her - fell in love at the first arm amputation /j

Found her confidence again thanks to Uzi dragging her along on her way to love herself.

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet

Gojo Satoru

„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”

Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?

The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.

But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.

No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.

It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.

“Is it because of your nightmares?”

You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.

But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.

“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“

“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.

“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”

“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”

Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.

Truly pathetic.

“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”

Oh Satoru.

Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.

Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.

“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.

“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”

Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…

Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.

“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.

Inumaki Toge

You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…

Is it enough?

“Kelp.”

His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?

Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?

“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.

How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.

“Salmon roe.”

Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.

“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.

“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.

Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”

With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…

“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.

“Salmon!”

“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.

You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.

Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.

“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.

You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.

“I believe in you, (y/n).”

Did he…Did he just speak?

“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.

With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.

Fushiguro Megumi

Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…

You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.

“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.

Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.

But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.

Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.

Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.

But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.

Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.

“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.

God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?

“What do you want here, (y/n)?”

His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.

“I had a bad dream again…”

The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.

You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?

Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?

“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.

You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.

“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.

That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.

“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.

He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.

Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.

Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg

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4harv3y · 1 year ago

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UNDERTALE: YELLOW ‘REVIVED! CLOVER’ AU

PART 1

Explanation:

AS WE CAN TELL BY THE CUTSCENES, THAT DYING WITHOUT A SOUL ISNT IMMEDIATE. but slowly, it sorta drains away your energy, but seeing that Clover was literally hunched down during Floweys speech before having ENOUGH energy to drag themselves to position their last death place shows how REALLY strong Clover is. So, assuming that they DIDNT immediately passed away after they positioned themselves for prob a few last breath minutes really made me think.

What if Flowey decided to still keep Clover? They were ‘pals’ Yeah. Flowey decided to let them rest… BBBBBut, what if before Clover used their last breath. Floweys forced a TINY ounce of his determination into them. Making Clover a sort of a walking dying corpse.

Nevertheless, since it is shown that Clover has enough energy to drag themselves without their soul. In their now revived state, they can do simple movements by themselves. It’s just their legs can't balance anymore due to a lack of soul energy, so Flowey helps them with their balance and movements by being their support via using Vines as body strings.

Flowey and Them DO meet Frisk at some point,

Clover genuinely looks so tired which make sense because they literally got their energy sucked out after they lost their soul. Clover now has to drink ANY energy giving drinks or they barely functions for 2 hours (Forced to drink coffee.)

Character Info:

Clover & Flowey

Due to Clover's SOUL already being taken Encased in a capsule (Takes places during OG Undertale.)

Flowey mostly ‘Helps’ with their movements since without a soul, their control over their body are VERY WEAK. Revived! Clover can’t do Shit. Only thinks and blinks (But has enough energy to speak simple words.) of course, they can move their arms with any leftover weak energy. but it will never be enough to resists Flowey's control over their movement and actions.

I also wanted to add a detail that the vines will extend more rapidly and secure/support more, depending on what body part(s) Clover is going to use more effortly just incase of Clover was caught in a fight.

Qna questions that are answered for the lore of this AU:

Question 1. You think the lack of a soul might cause empathy/emotion issues like with flowey? Imagine flowey teaching clover to cope with it.

Answer:

“The answer is, Yeah! But, I have a feeling or a (hc of course) that it still has same affect upon losing your soul, slowly but surely. It would take Clover a few days or maybe one month in the underground to suddenly lose their concept of emotions, since like what happened after they lost their soul.

But Clover probably "tries' to hold onto their emotions to as long as possible, to make sure they don't ended up like flowey (I like to think that they slowly soon starts to act semi-like their genocide counterpart; ruthless and bold.)”

Question 2. Wondering how their friends would interact with how... "kind of alive" their body is. Or heck, how they and their friends would interact with the undertale cast.

Before the aftermath, how would Clover "kind-of live" in the underground? With all of the emotionlessness consuming their days, would they act like some kind of cryptid since they don't want their friends to see them as this... soulless shell.

Answer:

1.) I bet they would interact with Clover by treating them like a glass child (Which would start A LOT of conflicts, especially when the side effect of being soulless could affect their moral Justice as well.), and for the UT cast, it depends on your idea!

2.) Clover went into hiding and lived off caffeine and energy drinks(Or leftover food from their inventory.) But, Flowey being their pal would probably give them food if they don't, And Yeah! Clover became this ‘Cryptic entity’ that tends to lurk around where ‘Injustice or corruption’ happens. I like to see Clover, before the emotionlessness began; Was that Clover USED to be this ‘Peacekeeper’ vigilante. Relating to them acting like this ‘Cryptic’ due to them. Even in OG Undertale, I like to imagine that Clover appears for a short period of time and disappears from Frisk point of view(Like that Flowey Easter egg from the OG UT.)

Question 3. does clover tell flowey what limb or does flowey just know?

Answer:

Well, they used The first one, but until a few days or weeks, they’ve gotten used to it, so Flowey now just knows.

4. What exactly WAS flowey's plan for Clover

Answer:

The only logical and ‘in-character’ thought I had of Flowey’s plan; was that Flowey was going to use Clover against or perhaps use Clover as bait/trick the last human child, and help kill King Asgore. Which backfired.

And I also realized that Clover no longer has their Gun, so I wanted to give Clover a weapon to help ppl while also defending themselves. (Clover is used to range, so they probably suck-ass on melee weapons.)

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t-a-a-1 · 4 months ago

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More Than Meets the Eye

Ch.2: RedStar Rising Pt.1

TFA Optimus X F!Reader

Summary: Being a rising journalist is difficult. Especially when you have to live a secret criminal life. Things get worst when you start to fall in love with your enemy, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and hero of Detroit City.

You believe the feelings can't be mutual. Yet, he slowly starts to notice that you are more than meets the eye.

A/N: Lots of yearning. Jealously. Enemies to lovers?? You are a journalist who is also a criminal. Idk. Takes place between Season 1 and 2 of TFA.

Chapter 2 : RedStar Rising Pt. 1

...

Cleaning up the city was not on the Autobots’ favorite thing to do-list. But as they continued to destroy things, there wasn’t much they could do. As Earth’s stemmed guests, and to keep a good Cybertronian-Human diplomacy, they had to do things they weren’t fond of.

“Come on guys! We can’t slow down!”

They started working in the morning. Non-stop. The sun is starting to die down and the stars are rising. They didn’t have an Energon break. Prime was way too focused on cleaning everything to perfection to even care about his programing demanding fuel.

“But Boss-Bot, we have been cleaning up piles of junk for hours! We need a break!”

Bumblebee was the first one to complain, but it’s all it took for the rest to follow along.

“I would certainly need some oil after this,” Ratchet says as Bulkhead smiles at the thought. He too would be delighted to drink some good quality oil.

“No, we need to finish this first. By tonight.”

Optimus insisted, his voice not like his usual self.

“Optimus, the mind and body needs to be properly rested to continue functioning,” Prowl steps forwards, talking directly to Prime who wasn’t acting like his usual self. “Unless, there is a certain urgency or reason behind why you want to finish this up so quickly?”

Yes, he had other reasons. But that doesn’t mean he is ready to tell them. It was hard to express. He can’t tell them that he wants to cause as little disruption as possible to the humans. More specially to a woman he met not so long ago. Now that he has a broader perspective on things he understands how every single doing has an impact on the city. Tragically, you were right. Earth was a safer place before they arrived.

But he can’t tell them that. He can’t tell them that the reason behind his desperate need to repair what is broken is to help … even if that help is significantly small.

“You guys are right, but you all go ahead. I’ll stay and finish this up.”

The Autobots look at each other. With wondering and confused faceplates.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

Without much objection the Autobots transformed into their vehicle form.

“See you at the base then.”

They roll out, leaving Optimus to finish things up.

He looks around. What used to be a hospital building, a place that was made to heal, was turned into debris. They were lucky that they were able to evacuate the humans that resided inside. But after that, not once, he wondered what happened to them. Were they alright? Were they able to continue their healing process? Were they still … alive?

Up until now, he had paid no attention to that matter. His spark feels ashamed as he remembers his past.

Ultra Magnus was right … He was no hero.

Optimus keeps working. Moving big rocks, wires and dust. It was getting late. The night had fallen and the stars decorated the dark sky. He thought of going home, recharging and then coming back early in the morning. But as he was moving the last debris of the night, he found something shining underneath it. A small fragment of the AllSpark.

He holds it on his servo and before he could call it a night, he feels something impact him from the back.

Optimus falls to the ground, the fragment escapes from his servo, rolling away from him. Turning slowly, his optics focused on a tall purple figure.

“Slipstream."

Optimus' voice is weak, the strike behind his back still affecting him.

The femme bot walks past Optimus, making her way to the fragment. Slowly, picking it up, a proud smile decorated her faceplace. Her snarky pose infuriated the Prime but he was too hurt to do something about it.

“Well, I’ll be taking this.”

Quickly transforming into her jet form, she flies to the sky while Optimus curses for not being able to keep up with her.

“Looks like you are not good with lady bots either.”

It’s a full moon. But all he could see was strings of short red hair. Black suit with a white mask and red lipstick that could be as bright as the sun. The figure uses a line-launcher, sending a rope and attaching it to the forehead of the bot who was still laying on the group. Ziplining her way, fearlessly, she ends up right in front of Optimus optics.

“Thankfully, for you, I could teach better manners.”

A villain or a hero? Optimus couldn’t tell but he had his suspicions. He has the suspicious lady right in front of him. He watches as she elegantly steps in the ground, bringing back her line launcher to her belt. Finally allowing him to stand up straight.

“And you are?”

Optimus asks, this was not the best time to be bothered but the woman’s appearance caught his interest.

“That’s not of importance. I know you and that’s all that matters.”

She speaks in a seductive voice. Her confidence was admirable, being able to stand in front of a giant robot whose intention is unknown was something to be applauded for.

“And how do you know me?”

Without notice, the mysterious figure uses her line-launcher again, this time pointing at Optimus’ shoulder. Quickly, she moves through the wind and closes the massive height difference. She takes a seat on Optimus’ shoulder, his face-plate quite close.

“I read about you in the newspaper. Besides, where else would I find such a tall, handsome mech?”

Even when he was aware of his aesthetically pleasing appearance, he still wasn’t used to compliments. In Cybertron, saying such things to other Autobots was not fit in society. On Earth, it was a different story. It was a sign of interest, of courting. And he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“What do you want?”

“I think we can help each other,” she says, enjoying the fact that she made the Leader of the Autobots blush. “Slipstream and I have unfinished business. But I am kinda small and can’t fight her myself. You help me take her down and I can tell you where she is.”

“What if you just tell me where she is and I do the rest?” Optimus still doesn’t dare to look at her. Instead he focuses on her warm body on his shoulder and her voice near his audio receptors. “No offense but I don’t enjoy putting humans in danger. Much less involve them in Autobot and Decepticon affairs.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit too late for that?”

She looks to the side and Optimus follow’s her eyes. The hospital building was destroyed and still a proof of the irreversible damage the Autobots have caused. Simply because they couldn’t keep their ‘affairs’ within Cybertron.

“Besides, I am no regular human. I can take care of myself,” she says. “I just need a ride and you need directions.”

Optimus keeps looking at the building. He can rebuild it many times but how many will it be torn down again? How many others would be injured because of his actions? If he accepts, then he might endanger another human life. But if he lets Slipstream have the fragment of the AllSpark, he would be endangering many more.

“Where to?”

The roads are quiet, especially when there is no path to follow. Just trees and a few hills to go around. This time, Optimus has decided to take more into consideration a person’s safety. This time including a seat belt for the passenger and driver seats. Even when his guest didn’t seem interested in them.

“You can go faster if you would like,” she puts her legs on his board. Now he notices her heels, pointy. “I want to get there soon.”

“I would feel more comfortable speeding if you put on the seatbelt.”

Optimus takes a moment to inspect the lady who sits comfortably on his passenger seat. She wore a short black dress made of a fabric that looks shiny but durable. Adjusting to her body, enhancing her curves but also flexible and easy to move around. She also wore black gloves with the palms being red just like the bottom of her heels.

“Oh, it's the Leader of the Autobots concerned about my safety?” She puts her hand on his shift gear. “I am flattered.”

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling but he would rather feel the flesh and warmth of human skin and not the coldness of gloves. It’s not like he was craving contact but he wouldn’t mind either. Especially when she was being so gentle about it.

“Not so long ago, I had a not so pleasant experience with a human who got hurt while she was inside my vehicle mode,” he says. “I just don’t want a repeat.”

“How considerate of you,” she has a certain curiosity. She touches him in a peculiar way, as if she was afraid to hurt him. “Are you like this with everyone or just people you like?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“More than you think, bot-boy.”

He can’t believe he is getting nervous.

“Just tell me what you know.”

The mysterious woman smiles as she stops with the touching. Leaving him wanting for more.

“Slipstream has secretly been building copies of herself with an abandoned government laboratory. All she needs is a fragment of the AllSpark to turn her plans into reality.”

“And how do you know this stuff?”

“That’s my job, I just know things. You just have to trust me.”

There is a beeping sound coming from her GPS device. Signalling to them that their desired location was nearby. If they weren’t on a mission, this place could be a nice hangout place. Optimus likes the city but he also enjoys the pretty views of nature.

“Well, I can’t be very trusting if all you say is vague responses, lady.”

“Alright then, what if we drop formalities?” she takes her feet off the board, excitement in her voice. “I’ll call you Optimus. Calling you by your first name should build a stronger sense of trust.”

“And what should I call you, then?”

“If we make it out of this alive, I’ll tell you,” she makes a little pause and then puts a string of her hair back in her ear. “A little something to keep you motivated. Unless you want me to give you something else?”

“What else could I want from an organic?”

“Well, a little affection wouldn’t hurt you,” as if she was reading his mind, she takes one of her gloves off and slowly passes her fingertips through his board, brushing a few buttons on the way. “When was the last time someone caressed your chassis?”

“That’s not a topic to be discussed with a lady!”

His headlights start blinking, his processor stops functioning for a second.

“You are so fun to tease, you must be really popular with the femme bots … and ladies alike.”

She whispers way too close to his window, the warmth of her breath against the coldness of his window made him feel … uncertain.

“Just concentrate on the mission at servos.”

The cave was well hidden. It would have been impossible to find if you didn’t have a localizer.

Optimus takes a look at the lady in front of him, who blended perfectly with the night. Only the moonlight and the stars illuminated the area.

“Would it be too late to ask you to stay here and let me handle things?”

Optimus asks once again.

“The fact that you are even insinuating such a thing is an insult to my persona.”

Optimus ex-vents and looks inside the cave. It’s dark but from here he can hear the steps of Slipstream.

“You handle Slipstream and I’ll get the AllSpark fragment. Sounds good enough for you?”

She takes out a large metal stick and moves it skillfully. Her eyes land on him, waiting for an answer.

“Let’s do this.”

The element of surprise was their best option as Optimus uses his integrated ion blaster to shoot anything that didn’t look Autobot friendly. Starting with the many duplicates of Slipstream in many capsules. The femme copy of Starscream was not expecting this but she wasn’t going to let him demolish everything she worked for so easily.

“If you are destroying this place, I’ll take you down with it!”

Slipstream clicks a few keys on her massive computer, on the screen, a timer appears.

One minute until detonation.

But it was just not that. It had become too late and the Slipstream copies had become alive.

You were nowhere to be seen but the fragment of the AllSpark was right in the middle of the base. Encapsulated in a crystal case.

Using his ax, Optimus looks around only to find himself surrounded by copies and not a single trance of you.

Had you left him behind?

As one of the copies points her integrated laser gun at Optimus, he knew he won’t be able to cover himself from the attack. He just hoped that it wouldn't be strong enough to take him down.

But as the projectile was about to impact his face plate, he saw a tiny human protecting him. Directing the bullet to the crystal box the AllSpark fragment resided in, shattering into pieces and free to grasp.

“That is as much force as my energy pole will be able to take!” the woman takes out a gun. It didn’t look human-made but as she shot, the damage of the bullet made the same impact as a Cybertronian weapon would. “Get the fragment, I’ll cover you!”

He didn’t hesitate and felt strange at the thought of feeling safe with a human. Regardless, he quickly stretched out a servo while he used his axed to protect any other incoming projectiles.

30 seconds.

“A good leader knows when to retreat.”

Slipstream transforms into her jet mode, flying out of the cave with a stream of chemtrails following behind her. It was hard to see now. Projectiles were coming from all directions as the other bot copies kept shooting their ion cannons.

Optimus gets a hold of the AllSpark fragment. And as soon as he does he transforms into his vehicle mode. Moving in a way where she ended inside on the passenger seat, he adjust the seat belt for her and starts driving.

10 seconds.

But another projectile was following them. Without taking into consideration Optimus' wishes, the woman in black decides to take off the seatbelt and come out of the window. Climbing on top of him.

“Are you crazy? Get inside!”

She takes out her energy pole and using all of her strength, she swings it. All the kinetic energy that had been stored from the previous attack has been released by impacting it by the incoming projectile. Not only destroying it but also giving them the impulse that they needed to get out of the cave just in time.

“Did you see the Slipstream face?! She leaked her exhaust pipe for sure!”

Optimus moves freely as he was excited that this mission went so smoothly.

“You weren’t too far behind, you looked so worried the moment I didn’t show up.”

The sun is starting to rise.

After the mission, she insisted on going sightseeing. She knew a spot. An abandoned handing bridge. It wasn’t big compared to the other populated ones but it was peaceful. With pine trees on the side and a small river passing under. The sunrise in front of them.

Optimus had to mass-displace. Not because the bridge was unsteady or small but because he felt the need to feel a bit closer to her and see the world as she does.

They sit on the edge of the bridge, their feet hanging as they look into the horizon.

Both looking at the vastness of the sky, she decides to break the silence.

“Do you ever miss your home?”

“Yes, all the time. But I know I am doing a greater good for Cybertron if I stay here,” Optimus doesn’t look at her but instead looks at the beautiful scenery in front of him. It was peaceful, something he wanted to protect.

“The Decepticons are out there planning something. Cybertron and Earth will not be safe if we don't stop them.”

“Would you leave Earth, once that’s done?”

“Well, if there’s nothing left to do here and its people are safe, then yes,” Optimus feels the wind on his faceplate. It’s cold but he doesn’t mind. But he unconsciously gets closer to the lady, shielding her from the winds, just in case it was too cold for her. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss me?”

“We only met a few hours ago, do not flatter yourself.”

“You have to admit, I think you and I make a good partnership,” Optimus says. “I wouldn’t mind adding an extra member to the team.”

“Sorry, but I do things solo most of the time,” she lets out a heavy sigh, alamo enamored of the view. “Besides I have other things I want to do.”

“What other things, lady?”

She seems hesitant as she takes a few seconds to respond to the question. She took so long to respond that Optimus thought she might not answer. Feeling awkward, he was about to change subject until she spoke again.

“I want to become a writer. Someone who tells the truth,” she says and Optimus finally dares to look at her. He has never been one to find organics to be aesthetically pleasing to look at. However, he has seen humans as squishy and soft looking. He didn’t think of the females to be as winsome as femme bots.

But right now, her eyes shine with the sunlight. And for a moment, Optimus believed he could see the entire universe in her eyes.

“But to do that, I have to do something first.”

She looks at him, breaking his trance and making a look away.

“Is there any way I can help?”

She stands up and Optimus immediately hopes she won’t leave him. He had enjoyed their time together and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

Instead, she stands in front of him. Even after had mass-shifted, he was still 10 feet tall. But he was sitting and this allowed him to see her face to faceplate. She is getting close and she reaches out a hand. Touching his cold frame, moving her fingers through his faceplate, expecting it. Looking directly at his optics, he didn’t mind. Not one bit.

“Maybe you can … But in a different way.”

Her face gets closer and closer. Her lips touch his faceplate, leaving trails of red lipstick. Optimus was surprised he is letting her have her way. Shouldn’t he feel repulsed? Shouldn’t he have pushed her away? Maybe he has been on Earth too long and has missed the warmth of a partner.

This wasn’t right. He couldn’t allow himself to indulge with someone he barely knows. But Primus, he was enjoying it too much. Her warmth was a special one. Not even the fragment of the AllSpark on his servo could compare. It was just a speck of heat compared to the touch of your bare lips.

How much he craved for her to just finish his torment and allow him to taste them.

And as he looks at her, wishing for more, he closes his Optics. Allowing her to do with him as she wished. He just needs a single kiss–

He can’t move.

“My theories were right,” you say as you give him a small pat on his faceplate. “Men and male bots are so easy to use.”

Optimus tries to move but is unable. Feeling rather dizzy and sleepy.

“The pheromones on my lipstick can make any living being enter a state of paralysis,” she walks in front of him, effortlessly moving on the edge of the bridge, with agility that made Optimus know that she trained a lot to be able to make moves like that without being afraid. “With some side effects of sleepiness but don’t worry it only lasts a couple of hours.”

“I must thank you. I didn’t expect it to work on Autobots so you were a great test object. But due to your height, I had to use more product,” she makes her way next to him. Grabbing his restarlueus and her hands make her way to his servo. He is helpless against her touch as much as he tries to fight it, he can’t move.

“Good thing I had built an immune system against it. Otherwise I would also be falling asleep as of right now.”

She opens his right servo, revealing the AllSpark fragment.

“You were absolutely amazing. I’ll be taking this,” she says “And thank you for the help.”

The lady starts to walk away as Optimus’ optics start to slowly close. He can’t believe he had fallen for this. His confusion starts to become anger and betrayal. Two things that should never be mixed together.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she turns to look at him. A devilish smile decorates her face. Now all Optimus wants to do is erase her memories. “A deal is a deal.”

“RedStar.”

She says and that’s all Optimus could remember before falling on his back and drifting on a deep sleep.

There was so much shame on Optimus’ shoulder to even mention what happened to the Autobots.

But of course, he had to explain in some way or another why he had arrived home until the next day.

He didn’t mention certain details. Just the basics. And everyone else deemed the night as a simple ‘Boss-Bot Shenanigans.’ Meeting Slipstream, meeting a mysterious lady, teaming up with lady to defeat Slipstream, winning, lady turning out to be a bad person who just used him for her own benefits, lady taking the AllSpark fragment, Optimus paralyzed. The end.

And Optimus was more than happy to accept his mistake, learn from it and never do it again.

However, the shame was still present. It was his fault after all. Supid enough to believe that he could ever …

“Do you agree, Prime?”

Captain Carmine Fanzone had invited the Autobots to the police station to request for their help. He had called a meeting in which all the Autobots had provided their undivided attention. All except for Optimus who was too deep in thoughts. He thought he could ask for details later. It’s not like he can’t say no when humans ask for aid, that's the reason why they are here after all.

“Yes,” he simply says but that answer didn’t seem too convincing for the Head of Detroit’s Police Department.

They couldn’t go inside as the place was too small for them. However, they prepared a table for them outside the station. With donuts, and oil. The table was small and they couldn’t eat the donuts but it's not like they were expecting to get a 32 feet tall table just for them. But the warm oil was a nice touch.

“Well then, just to recap … The American Government has warned us that an anti-robot terrorist group called S.T.E.A.M. plans to launch different attacks on Detroit city to protest against Sumdac’s creations taking over the city,” Fanzone had a white board, explaining the situation. “But we have someone who has an insider on S.T.E.A.M. and they are willing to release information about the location of the attacks.”

“So, you want us to escort this person to meet with the insider?”

Ratchet asks who, although he usually is the one to careless about humans, he knows when something is important and deserves his attention.

“Yes but to also be ready to dismantle any attacks that might endanger the city.”

“Won’t it be easier for the insider to just tell us the information and we can just go and take down the bombs in the city or whatever?” Bumblebee raises a servo as he looks down at Fanzone. He didn’t have a particular thought about the Captain. He wasn’t good or bad in his opinion. But the fact that he had reached out for help when he wasn’t found by ‘machines’ spoke volumes of the seriousness of the situation.

“No, they are only willing to talk in person and with the individual they have been exchanging information with,” he points at the board to a picture of a faceless person. “If any police officer goes or is seen, the deal will be off and we will be risking millions of lives.”

He moves his marker to a drawing. A very comical depiction of the police and money. “Whoever decides to escort this person, they also need to keep in mind that you will be escorting 5 Million Dollars. It’s all part of the deal.”

Everyone looks at Optimus who seemed deep in thought. He doesn’t have the luxury of time to think things through but he thought of the many possibilities. Of what could go wrong and how each team member would handle things in case he can’t communicate.

“I’ll go,” the Prime finally speaks up. “Bumblee, we will need your speed in case there are multiple bombs to deactivate. Ratchet stays alert in case anyone gets hurt. Prowl, you’ll stay in base to be our main source of communication in case my Comm-Link gets intercepted. Bulkhead, protect Sari and any human who might need assistance. Things might get really bad.”

“Loud and clear Boss-Bot,” Bumblebee salutes as everyone agrees with his plan.

“Who’s the person who I have to escort?”

He looks at Fanzone who looks at the entrance of the police station. At the perfect timing, you come out of the doors. Quickly looking around the area, only for your eyes to land on the Autobots and one in particular you did not like.

“...You have to be kidding me.”

Optimus says to himself but it was loud enough for his teammates to hear.

“Nop,” you say as you walk towards Fanzone. “Not happening.”

“Ms. (Y/N), we talked about this,” he says. “A police officer can’t go with you, we don’t know what kind of security measures will be taken. If they find out, we’ll be risking the whole city. And you can’t go alone either. What if something happens to you? An Autobot is the perfect cover and protection.”

“Protection? He almost killed me last time we did illegal c–”

You stop talking. Knowing that probably it wasn’t a good idea to tell a police officer about doing illegal car racing with a robot alien.

“Make out!”

Optimus quickly intercepted, as he also didn’t want Fanzone to know you two did illegal car racing. He didn’t want to give him another reason to dislike the Autobots.

“We illegally make-out!”

You look at Fanzone at the horrified look on his face. Then there was confusion and then a combination of the two.

“It’s not what you think!”

Trying to save your reputation, you stand in front of him. But it was futile, in his mind, you had already done other things with the Autobot Leader.

“I would never do such things with him!”

You point at Optimus who although didn’t know why you were so hectic, he enjoyed your display of distress.

“Excuse me? You were touching me all night long!” He acts unfazed and even offended. His words only made you redder on the cheeks, it was pleasing to look. “You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Shut up!”

“What is make-out?”

Bumblebee suddenly asks.

Optimus wished he knew the answer to that.

Against your will, tomorrow, Optimus and you will go on a small trip to meet with the S.T.E.A.M insider.

You lay on your bed, looking at the ceiling as if it had the answers to your problems.

Your phone rings again.

“I am not doing this anymore.”

You quickly say, you didn’t need to look at the caller’s name. He never missed to call you at the same time.

“That’s fine but just remember that Alex and his family might receive a visit from us if you don’t cooperate.”

As you hear your ex-lover’s name, your heart aches. They had threatened you with his life before, this past mission you did it because of him. Now his family is getting involved. You had promised a very long time ago to protect the peaceful life he worked so hard to get.

“And it won’t be a nice reunion.”

You were tired. You thought you had left your old life behind, that you could start new. But no matter where you go, it always catches up to you.

“How much more do I have to do for you guys to leave me alone?”

“If you do everything we do, you might be out faster than you think. You just have to trust us.”

“I have trusted you before and where has that led me?”

“It’s your only option,” he says as he makes a small pause. “Besides, wasn’t the monetary compensation we sent enough for you?”

You look over at the table next to you. Yes, they had given you a good amount of money to live well for the next couple of months for successfully obtaining the fragment of the AllSpark. Dirty money you think of never using it or just donating it to charity.

“Just a couple more missions. And everyone will be safe.”

You look at the money on your bedside board, next to it, a picture of you, Alex and his family. Your hands were tied.

“...What kind of mission?”

“I’ll send a package soon with the details.”

Adverting your sight from the picture frame to your wall, you see your black dress. Boots, a pair of gloves, a mask and a short red wig. A symbol of your past. Always a part of you.

“Welcome back, RedStar.”

A/N: I’ll get back to the Darkest Hour, it’s just that I finished watching Transformers Animated and it has taken over my brain-rot.

Sorry for any grammatical and spelling mistakes, I don’t proofread.

And thank you all for the lovely comments and support! It really helps me to stay motivated to continue writing things that I like to write and you all like to read.

That’s all for now. Until the next story!

Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62083819/chapters/158785846

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/772153325477117952/more-than-meets-the-eye?source=share

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