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#i turned him into a wolf and i was like. oh. so he kinda is a werewolf.... 👀
nightmarearian · 24 days
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trans wrio brainrot 👍
text: I'm probably a guy, but I have a prison to (eventually) rebuild from the ground up & a mfer to curbstomp ... so idc rn.
vaguely in the wolf & spider universe, but works regardless
really happy with how this turned out lmao
i should be working rn lmao
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nyxronomicon · 1 year
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naggingatlas · 1 year
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i looove putting spark over songs about like heroes and saving the world (tom cardy's 'level clear', uncle outrage's 'saved the world' <- nice voice hc for him!. and 'my superhero movie'.) when he like. Did. Not : ) funney.
#sprksplrs#gaia talked about spark wanting to be desired yesterday and while i think he's too much of a Lone Wolf... for those kinds of wants to#even surface. at least in my interpretation of him. its hilarious to think abt him getting. just a tad insecure abt fark's status as#a real like. superhero basically. just for a second in the far back of his head. oh i want to be as cool as him. im not good enough#tho again in my characterization he only wants to do that to be able to love himself. i first got this thought when ruminating on#oh god. what kinda games he n fark like to play respectively? and said 'if he ever does pick up hardmode or a challenge level#he will only do that to one up himself and himself only.' he only proves stuff to himself. he only cares about himself.#and the things that do the most mental damage to him are all scenarios in which his self is attacked.#in which his agency is taken his independence. losing a job to someone something that copies him and does it better than him#something that even copies a really dear object to him thats been with him throughout the years - his jester hat#an attack on individuality. and then being merged into the sim. idk. the yaoi moments when he does work together w fark become even more#potent. this way? and. it contrasts really well with how selfless (at some point in his life very literally) fark is. and how confident in#his self. he turns out to be in the end. as micah said 'how he moves with so much more fluidity in his organic body#the body he created himself because he's no longer afraid of it being fake'. citing that as the bible but yea kinda.#i think spark grew up quite ostracized maybe even self-ostracized and really needs a distinction between himself and everyone else#to be better than everyone else. there is some personality disorder shit happening under that piss yellow scalp.#and he fucking loses it when the events around him hammer in that the facade he builds for mostly again himself is. yknow. untrue. fake.#idk thoughts. i love exploring the antisocial aspect in fictional personas with how shipshipship focused fandoms and 'analysis'#in them is it's not something i see all that much. seems like only people whove experienced it ever bring up that topic.#is it so uncomfortable for others? who knows. ramble over
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sonarspace · 4 months
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feral, suguru geto
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synopsis: suguru’s not sure how you’ll react to his new haircut. content: very filthy and NSFW! (orgasms, 69, cowgirl - kinda, mating press, messy) wc: 2.3k an: combined two requests so i hope my lovely anons don’t mind 😸. and as usual not proofread!
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞 snip, snip, snip, snip !
suguru looks up at the mirror and his identity — his once luscious long hair ... gone. immediately he regrets his decision and a frown takes home on his face.
he pulls on his hoodie and leaves the barber shop. "why did i think that was a good idea?" he scolds himself internally. "ugh, she's going to hate it. i look so stupid." he thinks as he's walking back home.
"i think it looks great," satoru chirps from the couch. he glances at satoru once before groaning, "you're just saying that so i don't feel bad. she's going to hate it man."
"no, i really am not. i think it's nice that you changed up your hair. couldn't tell the difference between you and your girlfriend when you guys would nap together," he giggles. and suguru's throwing a pillow at his face to shut him up.
he comes to pick you up at the airport. a beanie and hoodie over it to keep you from noticing his haircut for as long as he could. he sees you walk out of the airport, looking around for him. suguru's frown is immediately turning into a beaming smile when your eyes catch his and you're running into his arms.
he picks you up almost crushing you and you're a squealing mess in his embrace. you pull back and hold his face, peppering it with kisses causing him to breathe out a lighthearted chuckle.
you talk about your trip the entire ride home and he listens happily. he's glad you don't talk ask about what's going on with the beanie and hoodie combo. you come out of the shower, a small knowing smirk plays on your lips.
"don't you feel hot?" you ask him, fanning your face. "not really," he presses his lips together. 'uh oh...' an alert goes on in his brain. his heart picks up a beat at the thought of how you'll react.
you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. "what" he whines when you look at him like that. instead of making him nervous it was making his dick hard. "do you have something to show me suguru?" you ask walking towards him with faux tentative steps.
"you know, don't you?" he sighs. “satoru told me,” you giggle sitting down next to him on the couch. “come on let me see,” you tell him eagerly.
“will you break up with me if it looks bad?” he asks you half jokingly, half seriously. “depends,” you joke and he scoffs. “i’m kidding baby, i’m never leaving you” you crawl into his lap.
his breath hitches slightly when you sit directly over his half hardened cock. instinctively he wraps his arms you and drops his head to your chest.
he looks back up and whispers “go ahead”. you hold your breath as you pull down his hoodie. his usual bun not visible. your hands reach for his beanie and he shuts his eyes, afraid of your reaction. “suguru, open your eyes.” you chuckle.
“can’t. just remove the beanie and tell me you hate it already,” he says. you pull off the beanie and gasp quietly but he notices and opens his eyes immediately. a slow smiles spreads on your lips and you let out a giggle in awe.
“oh my god,” you run your hand through his locks. his hair much much shorter but his bangs were still framing his face like usual. a wolf cut. “i love it,” you squeal when your eyes fall to his. “really?” he matches your tone. “yesss. so so much. it suits you so well.” you beam.
“you look really sexy.” you add on, a blush creeping at your neck at the way he squints his eyes at you. you’re sure he can feel the wetness forming in between your legs at his half hard dick slightly prodding at your clit.
“yeah?” he asks, his face close enough you could feel his breath on your lips. his nose bumps into yours. “yeah,” you confirm.
he hums moving his lips over yours. kissing you so softly. too consumed in the kiss you start grinding in his lap. your hand tangles in his hair, tugging it.
he groans lowly into your mouth as he bucks up into you. he pulls away and bites into your exposed shoulder. “please,” you whimper when he looks at you. and he’d be crazy to say no when you look at him with a cute pout.
“what do ya want?” he asks, knowing the answer. but he wanted you to voice out. you look away and he pulls back your face to look at him – his hand squishing your cheeks cutely. “now now, don’t go shy on me when you were just grindin on my cock.”
“suguru,” you whine. “darling,” he whines back. you narrow your eyes at him. “go on. say it.” he urges you. “want you…want you to fuck me.” you huff.
“see that wasn’t so hard,” he squeezes your cheeks once more making your lips pucker and places a dirty kiss. biting your lip to watch it snap back against your teeth and smiling pridefully.
he pulls off your shirt slowly. admiring your soft skin with his lips. his mouth on your boobs licking around your nipple and sucking it in so sinfully — you felt hot in your skin. you squirm in his grip as he continues assaulting your boobs.
his hand moves between your legs and slips in your pants over your panties and you moan unashamedly. “let’s see how much you’ve missed me,” he speaks with a mischievous tone. you twitch and your head falls back when his fingers move over you panties, collecting your arousal. he lets out a contented murmur. “so wet baby, i bet i could just slide in easily.” your boob now covered with his saliva. you tug his hair and he unlatches his mouth with a pop. you bring his face up to yours and he lulls his tongue knowingly. you tilt your head slightly and suck on his tongue eagerly.
his hand moves around your neck and pushes you back, halting your movements. his nose pokes into your cheek as he rubs over your clothed clit. his breathing grows heavier as if he was the one reaching his high.
without a second thought you grab his hand still in your panties and press it closer to yourself. you move against it stimulating yourself. his fingers rub your pussy while the end of his palm presses against your clit with every jerk of your hips.
your grip tightens on the back of his neck as your head falls back and you gasp a whimper. feeling your fingernails dig into his nape has him rutting his hips into your core.
his heavy breathing hits your neck and he sinks his canines into your flesh silencing himself. you feel his muffled groans against your skin as he keeps torturing your drenched pussy and unconsciously bucking up into you.
“nghh— fuck sugu i’m” you cum with a loud cry of his name – both hands on his shoulder trying to steady yourself as you twitch in his lap. at that he finally pulls your panties aside and dips his finger into your hole. he holds his breath at the feeling of your warm arousal and the clenching of your walls around his digit.
“pussy’s so greedy. did you not give her any attention?,” he purrs teasingly. his hand still wrapped around your neck tightens – cutting off your oxygen and flooding your head with a lustful fog.
he clucks disapprovingly when you shake your head. he moves his hand down to your waist and holds you as he stands up and sits you back down on the couch – on his knees between your legs.
he pulls out his finger from between your legs and pushes it into your mouth. watching with his lips parted as you make a show of sucking your juices off of it. tongue swirling around the tip of his finger and then bobbing your head down to his knuckles.
“you’re going to drive me insane,” he growls immediately pulling you into a rough kiss. his teeth nipping your lips and sliding his tongue against yours — at last tasting you and he bellows a whine into your mouth.
he pulls down your pants along with your drenched panties roughly almost pulling you with it and he squeaks a sorry making you laugh at his excitement.
he places your legs on his shoulders and admires your glistening pussy – your sweet arousal covering every inch. he almost feels overwhelmed and his heart picks up a beat. he looks back up to you and you smile at him so sweetly he almost falls face first into your cunt.
he laughs under his breath moving closer. your hole flutters in anticipation when a cold puff of his breath patters near it. your squeal quickly turns into a moan when his tongue licks a stripe up your folds. he spreads your folds and lets a string of spit fall over your hole watching it clench.
“god, so needy. mama's not been takin care of you huh?" and as if in agreement your pussy clenches again and he laughs in amusement.
"suguru," you purr. he hums licking up your folds and then teasing your clit. "wanna taste you as well," you request. and he swears he almost comes at your needy tone. he'd be a madman to say no. he pulls you down on the floor with him. laying side by side in a 69 position.
you pull down his shorts and his dick springs up and hits his abdomen. the tip's flushed pink with pre cum covering his slit, a vein running at the side of his length throbbing under your touch. it twiches in your hand and he lets out a guttural moan.
your tongue teases his slit, gathering his pre cum into your mouth and then spitting it back on his cock — pumping him once, twice, before you decide to take all of him in your mouth. he bites down at your inner thigh at the immense pleasure feels. he bucks accidentally hitting the back of your throat making you gag. "fuckkkkk," he lets out a loud, deep groan, resonating throughout the living room.
he grabs your legs and brings you closer to his mouth. breathing in your arousal, twitching in your mouth. "ahh" you moan with him still in your mouth — he picks up the pace and starts tongue fucking you. dipping his tongue inside you, feeling your warm walls taking him in excitedly.
he tries to keep himself cumming in your mouth but you make it so hard when you start massaging his balls. he pulls away from you, unlatching his mouth. "need to be in you," he speaks with a raspy urgency. his hands move to your head keeping you there for a moment before he pulls you off of him and into his lap.
he wraps an arm around you once you take hold of his dick and sink down on him so wickedly slow. you grab his neck and bring him close. a string of saliva falls against his upper lip from your mouth. you close the space between you and lick it clean and plunging your tongue back into his mouth — both of you whining at the taste of your arousals on each other's tongue.
he leans back on one hand and starts bucking up into your heated cunt. moans of pleasure spilling out of both of you — loud enough that passerbys in the hallway felt a blush creep up their necks.
"ngh ha — baby, i'm not going to last long," he warns. you rub a finger over your clit, trying to reach your high at the same time as him. his cock head nudges against your g-spot pushing you closer — the coil in your stomach tightening.
he brings your mouth to his, kissing you — wanting to feel your moans inside him. the kiss is messy with spit dribbling down the side of both your mouths, both it doesnt stop you from trying to kiss each other.
"cumming," you bite down his lip as the coil snaps and floods your senses. your fingers scratch down his chest, leaving trails of red in its wake. he halts his hips when you start clenching around him uncontrollably and in the process milking him. you grind against him slowly wanting to make the feeling last longer for him as his ropes of his cum fills you.
he wraps both arms around you and hugs you, still sheathed in your cunt. he fills you to the brim, a bit of his cum running down your thighs and falling on his own. you gather a little bit on your finger and lick it clean, keeping your gaze on him. and he's hard again.
"you're so cruel," he adds laying you down and getting on top of you. he pushes your legs up to your chest as he starts fucking you. his hips snapping against the back of your legs. he makes you cum so hard again, all you can see is white. he falls down to your chest both of you sticky from sweat and cum running your legs.
he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. you wrap arms around each other and share endless kisses under the water. "if i knew my hair cut would have you acting like this, i would've cut it long time ago," he speaks against the kiss. you blush and hide your face into his chest, "i missed you." you feel his dick poking against your leg and you gasp "again?" and he laughs in return, "guess he’s missed you too".
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
an: comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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bluetimeombre · 24 days
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Notice
Sometimes, even the big bad wolf needs his calm, in his case, it's you.
[finally I got the request out for introverted reader. I to love this idea, I do genuinly believe Logan would just love someone he could relax with after all the pain he's been through- like him and Kayla in Wolverine which we don't talk about enough. I hope you enjoy, I tried to get it out quicker but i'm working on other little thing for Hugh and Logan, so keep your eyes out. No warnings for this, accept fluff and a little angst cause i'm a sucker for it.]
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Logan couldn't pin point the moment he noticed you but once he had, there was no going back.
Everything- everyone- in the mansion was hard to handle. All 100% all the time. Storm, the Professor, even Jean grated him enough of the times. With their insistence he join the team, with the nagging, the missions, the danger rooms, the blah blah blah.
So when he was out for a run, blowing the steam Scott had given him that morning, and he spotted you surrounded by students, huddled by a tree, he paused. He very almost ran into a kid as he did, squinting at you as you practically glowed in the sun.
Was that your mutation? To glow? To capture his attention?
You were showing the kids something, and they all listened, enamoured. As he would be, with your smile, your ... calm.
You caught him staring and faltered. He only crossed his arms over his chest and watched as you tried to continue teaching. Eventually, you set the class on some task and Logan slowly made his way to you.
"Hello Logan," you greeted.
He didn't know why it surprised him you knew his name, you must have been here longer than he had for you to teach. He watched you as you watched the children, noticing how you pulled at the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands. "What are they doin'?" he asked, gesturing to the kids.
"Just learning about life," you mumbled. That was your mutation, a connection the nature, to the trees and the very life that hummed under you.
So very different to him, who took life with the swipe of his claws.
"I'll er, see you," you added before walking away from him.
Logan couldn't shake you for the rest of the day. He walked by your class room later, saying hello to you. He never had before. That night, he found he couldn't sleep and he walked by your bedroom which just so happened to be on his way. The door was open ajar and you were no where to be seen.
You were down in the kitchen, sitting in an armchair by the window with a book in your lap and a steaming how cup of coffee next to you. He approached quietly, watching from the doorway as you were bathed in moonlight.
Eventually, as you went to grab your hot coffee, you spotted him. "Logan?" you spilled a bit over your hand, seething and putting it down. "Sorry, I- I didn't see you there."
He smirked. "Kinda the idea."
He ducked under a counter and pulled out a beer from his secret stash. He took some kitchen roll as he did before walking over to you, gesturing down to the empty chair across from you.
You nodded and he sat, taking the cap of the beer with his teeth and spitting it on the floor. "We don't have beer here," you said.
Logan raised a brow. "No? huh," he took a swig, watching you. "Here." he put his beer next to your coffee and takes your hand, wiping away the coffee.
"I'm ok," you mumble, though letting him dab it away.
"Just making sure, bub," he said, glancing up at you. You'd closed the book but kept a finger where he'd interrupted. "What are you reading?"
You seemed shocked that he asked as you have to think for a moment. "Oh just um, a book."
"A book, huh?" he hummed.
"A book," you repeated.
"What's it about?" he asked, leaning back and taking his beer again.
You shake your head, curling into yourself. "It's just about... art history. Read it?"
He smirked. "I don't read."
You nod, pursing your lips and adjusting the book in your lap. Your head, turned down.
He watched your for a second. He saw your eyes turn around the page but you didn't seem to be taking it in. He sipped his beer and tried to think of another way to start a conversation with you. Not that the silence wasn't welcome, it was after all the noise of the day, but he wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to know your voice even when he knew nothing else. "Wanna know how I snuck beer in this place?"
You glanced up at him, closing your book again. "Do I want to know?"
"Well, it's a neat little trick," he said, spinning the bottle around.
"And if Charles's comes snooping?" you ask.
He shrugs. "Then there's plenty of kids for me to blame it on," he said. "C'mon, you telling me you're not a rule breaker?"
You laugh at the very idea. "No. No, i'm not."
"Why not? Afraid you might get a taste for it?" he teased.
You blushed and he found delight in that.
Most nights, that how it went. In the day he was dealing with everyone's bullshit and at night he'd find you in your chair, reading or what you called crocheting. You even tried to teach him once but in a fit of anger that he couldn't get it, his claws slashed out and tore it.
Logan apologised but to his delight you laughed only.
In the day he always sort you out, or watched from afar as you taught, or sat in the sun. You never participated in danger room sessions. But you were no less a friend to Ororo or Jean, sometimes he'd catch you outside with Scott, talking and laughing and he found he'd never wanted to rip Summer's head from him more.
"I didn't know you and Summer's were... close," he said one night the two of you were in the kitchen. You were hunched over paper, drawing whatever you could see in the dark garden while he fixed himself up a sandwich.
"We've worked together for years," you said, "we were in the same classes together too."
"And you don't find him a pain in the ass?" he asked.
You chuckled. "Not as much as you, Logan, I expect."
Logan hummed a laugh and came over to you, offering you half the sandwich.
You peered at him and he insisted. “I’m not hungry.”
“You barley ate anything at lunch, c’mon, it’s my speciality.”
In the night, the two of you ate in silence, simply enjoying each others company.
Logan was simply fine admiring you for half the night. "Why don't you talk much?"
You glance is way, pulling your sweater back down. "I just don't have much to say."
"C'mon, i'm sure you do," he said. "Seems like everyone always has something to say round here.”
“I don’t have anything useful to contribute,” you shrug, taking a bite of what he made for you.
Something like pride filled him. He didn’t know that doing the plain old domestic stuff could mean so much to him, because when it was only him, he never cared, but you, god, there was no limit to what he felt for you. “That’s not true,” he said, leaning over closer to you. “Wanna hear every thought that pops into that pretty little head.”
You glance his way, blushing. You swallow your food and wipe away the crumbs. “And why is that, Logan?”
He frowned at the question. “Because it’s you. I-I like you, bub. Better than anyone else in this place,” he said. This place wasn’t descriptive enough for him. “I like you most in the whole world.”
After that little confession that had you stunned, Logan was all over you. Most the days when he has nothing to do he followed you around like a puppy, even chose to help out in classes just to be close to you.
It was worth every second, just to hear your voice and see you get passionate.
Slowly, you started to note this and finally opened up to him more. You’d talk about the books you were reading or invite him to your favourite spots in the garden. You’d even tried to crochet for him.
It was peace, and in his life time of war, Logan never thought he’d deserve it.
But peace never lasted long for him.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The mission was supposed to be a quick and done deal: investigate the factory and rescue any mutants stuck, but he hadn’t accounted for the mutant who poisoned his mind.
He was in the pale corridors of the facility before his mind took him to the mansion. It was wrecked, holes in walls and windows shattered. There was blood splattered like a painting. Slowly, he wondered the corridors, every step a tremble.
There were children, lying in blood, as well as Storm, Jean, Scott, but then, there was you.
Logan screamed. Logan yelled, he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way there. To you. His skin was was soaking in your blood, his hands clawing to get to you, to bring in your body to his. He cried out, nuzzilng his face in your neck.
It didn't feel like a dream, it felt painfully real. It wasn't until there was a searing pain in the back of his head that his eyesight blurred and the blood was gone, so were you.
"It wasn't real, Logan," said Scott, pulling him up. "It was just a dream. It wasn't real."
Logan couldn't register who was pulling him up, or who was talking to him. As his vision cleared, he looked for you and all he knew was that he couldn't find you. "Y-Y/N?"
"She's at home, Logan, c'mon." Scott managed to assort the rest of the team and get them to the jet before flying at a never before seen speed to get back to the mansion.
Logan's knee jittered as he remembered your voice. As he remembered your smile and the way you blushed whenever he looked at you long enough. The soft brush of your touch and the scent your hair carried in the wind. He tried to remember it all, as if when he returns, you won't be there.
Before the jet had even landed, as the sun rose over the school, Logan was jumping out and stalking into the place. He tried not to run, not to give into the urgency.
He went to your bedroom first, but you weren't there. Your sheets were tossed aside and it was empty. So was your classroom.
The sweat started rolling down as he looked around. It was so early, nobody else was up but he was sure with his heavy steps and ragged breaths, he was waking everyone up.
"Y/N? no, no, no," he mumbled. He eventually made it out, taking deep gulps of air and searching the grounds.
You stood with your back to him, a blanket wrapped around you and bathing in the soft light.
"Y/N?"
By the time you'd turned around, Logan was already catapulting into you, sweeping you from your feet and bringing you into his chest. His hand tangled in your hair, breathing you in.
"Logan?" you mumbled, arms awkwardly coming around him. "Everything alright?"
His head shook. "I thought... I thought you-" he found the strength to pull away from you, taking in every detail like he'd never see you again. "I missed you, bub."
There was accusation in your eyes but you didn't voice them. Instead, your knuckles brushed his cheek, smoothing away the lines of stress.
That night, with his head in your lap, you read to him. And Logan knew, nothing would ever happen to you.
He would make sure of it.
taglist (thank you! let me know if you want to be added for more hugh and logan or removed): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory
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thebigbiwolf · 11 months
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Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)
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Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.
Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.
This is what happens when you eat half the bar.
Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence
Read Part 1: Here
Read on AO3: Here
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.
Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.
Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.
He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face. 
“Astarion.” 
He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.
Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal. 
“Out with it, damn it!”
“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”
“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.
He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”
“I’m sorry, the what?” 
“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”
She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
Astarion shrugs, unfazed.
“Where’s Wyll?”
He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”
“Astarion!” 
“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”
The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent. 
“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly." 
Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”
Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"
"I only found half the bar."
Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"
“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."
The three exchange silent, worried glances.
“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.
Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.
“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”
The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.
“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”
“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.  
“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”
“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”
Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick. 
He isn’t that evil. 
“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”
“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.” 
He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”
Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.
The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him. 
And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.
The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.
You twitch, grimacing in pain. 
He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.
A mutual exchange.
But, this?
He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.
Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.
Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.
And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried. 
He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.
He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.
The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap. 
He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.
There’s no response. 
He whispers your name.
Nothing.
No choice, then.
He drums a finger against your bare arm.
The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.
Finally, you begin to stir.
-
Again. It happened again. 
As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once. 
He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.
The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality. 
Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you
Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.
Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you. 
He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.
“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases. 
You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him. 
He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.
And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.
'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’
You swallow. Hard. 
“Astarion, I -” 
He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”
“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”
“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?” 
Shit. Your head is pounding. 
You press your palms against your eyes and groan. 
“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”
Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.
Gods, he’s being fucking serious.
“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."
You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey. 
'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’
“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”
Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.
“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.
His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.
“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”
Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?
“I’m sorry, what?”
He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”
‘Handsome and smart.’ 
You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”
Astarion squints. “What was that?”
“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -” 
Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.
He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.” 
Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.  
You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.  
There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.
“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.” 
His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.  
“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.” 
The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.
It’s clear he means this.
He means every word. 
You nod. “Okay.”
Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders. 
“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?” 
His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention. 
His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it. 
As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple. 
“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”
Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.
“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion. 
He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need. 
He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.
For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.
“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you. 
He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit. 
“Breathe.” 
Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.
“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking. 
It doesn’t take much time at all.
“Astarion -”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.
“More. Anything.” 
He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap. 
The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -” 
He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.” 
Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him. 
Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.
"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already." 
"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."
"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it." 
A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.
But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch. 
Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance. 
“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least. 
You shake your head.
“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.
Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.
There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance. 
His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need. 
So, he presses in further. 
“Shit, you -” 
He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself. 
He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.
The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat. 
He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.
It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.
Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care. 
The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.
It’s all too much. 
Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles. 
You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep. 
You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.
But where?
'Where else?'
The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.
“Astarion, please. I need you.” 
“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.
“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please -  It’s alright.” 
He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.
It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths. 
He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees. 
“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.
“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.
He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair. 
This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.
“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”
“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit. 
He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”
There’s a beat of silence. 
Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -
“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks. 
Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better. 
The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.
“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”
Oh.
Hm.
“Well, now that you mention it…”
-
Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling
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imauthicktic · 1 year
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❤️‍🔥10
Sorry if this is a bit long, but maybe it could start something like this?
Y/N visits Sam at college with Optimus, who might've came with to harass Sam about helping like an alternative to the scene where they meet at the graveyard. Leo follows Sam out, probably harassing him about the website or whatnot, and basically just kinda stops like "You didn't tell me your sister was hot!" before running up ahead to hit on her, with Sam having his fifth mental breakdown of the day. Optimus isn't happy with Sam's dormmate, to say the least.
First request for the 1000+ follower event!!! Yippie!!!
Bayverse! Optimus Prime x fem!AFAB!human! Reader
OP in love with Sam's friend who is like an older sister of Sam is my favorite trope 😌💅🏻
Smut smut smut!!!
Warnings: size-difference! tried to keep this realistic so no penetrative sex. cock humping, clit stimulation. messy cum 🥴 Also cheesy flirtations from Leo
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You were sitting inside Optimus who was in his semi-trailer form as you both waited for Sam to come out of his dorm building so you could surprise him. “You think he’ll be excited to see me, Optimus?” you ask softly, “I know it’s only been one day since he’s been here, but I was so upset I couldn’t help him move in,” you say with a small hint of guilt in your voice. 
“My dear sweet spark, Sam would be happy to see you,” Optimus said in his soothing deep voice in reassurance through his radio. You smile before affectionately rubbing your hand over his steering wheel. You open your mouth to say something when you see Sam walking out of the building with his roommate in tow. “Oh, look! He’s coming out!” you say happily as you scramble out of Optimus. 
“Sam!” You call out to him, effectively grabbing his attention. “Y/N?” Sam says happily as he sees you waving over to him with Optimus chilling behind you with his engine revving. Sam rushes over to pull you into a big hug as he lifts you slightly in his tight embrace. You can't help but giggle brightly as you wrap my arms around his neck tightly. “God, I’m the worst big sister ever-,” you start before you get rudely interrupted by Leo’s low wolf whistle making you pull back from the hug and look at him with a raised brow. “Damn, Sam! You didn’t tell me your sister was a babe,” Leo says as he pushes Sam to the side a bit as Leo grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles, “I’m Leo, Sam’s roommate, and hopefully your future husband,” Leo winks. Sam watches the scene unfold as he tries not to burst out laughing at the clear disgust on your face. Optimus is fuming at the scene knowing you're not exactly enjoying the flirt. Your brows raise in shock as you pull your hand away from him. “Charmed,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your knuckles on Sam’s shirt. You turn back to Sam, “Anyways, hon. My husband,” you pause to look at Leo as you lift your hand with your wedding band on it that you wear to fend off creepy men then look back at Sam, “wanted to talk to you. He said it was urgent. So, go get Bee and meet up with us,” you say in a more relaxed tone as you look at Sam. Sam can't help but chuckle lightly before realizing you're talking about Optimus and he let out a sigh. “Really? I can’t have one day?” Sam asks exasperated. “Nope!” you say as you pop the ‘p’, “And you know you can’t really say no to me and I’m not exactly asking,” you finish with a cheeky smile before walking over to Optimus and getting inside. “See you soon!” you say sweetly. 
“Wait! Here’s my number in case your husband doesn’t work out or if you want some spice in your life,” Leo says as he hands you a folded-up piece of paper and he blows you a kiss. Optimus’ engine revs loudly in annoyance at Leo’s insistence. You look at him incredulously and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, “I genuinely don’t know where you get this confidence to go after a married woman, but I’m very much not interested, kid,” you scoff. “Leo, buddy. Trust me. Her husband is a god compared to you,” Sam adds as his hand pats Leo’s back as he guides him away from you. 
You crumple up the number and toss it aside as Optimus peels out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of driving at a fast speed and Optimus being oddly quiet, you decide to speak up. “My love?” you ask softly only to hear nothing but silence. You sigh softly, “You know you’re the best thing to happen to me right? That I’ll never get tired of you and that it’s always you on my mind right? The only one who gets me all hot and bothered,” you say reassuringly with a small giggle at your last statement as your hand caresses the dashboard in a soothing manner. “I know that. I’m not upset with you. Never with you, my sweet spark,” Optimus says with a soft sigh before pulling off to the side of the road and into a small forested area as he transformed into his humanoid form with you in his servos. 
He finds a tree and sits down with his back against it as he lifts you up to his face and carefully places kisses on your face and lips. “No one else could ever have you,” Optimus says as his spike is released and his other hand reaches under your dress to take off your panties only to realize you weren’t wearing any and he lets out a low rumbling growl. You smirk slightly, “I have to keep things interesting, Optimus,” you say teasingly. “My wife,” he says possessively and places you against his warmed-up spike making a shiver run down your spine. His voice and possessiveness were something you’d never dealt with before with him. Optimus was always so gentle and loving, but this… this was primal and rough. You begin to rock your hips lightly as your slick covers his spike making it easy for you to feel the ridges of his spike against your clit making you let out breathy moans. His servo wraps around your torso in a firm grip. “Primus, you’re mine,” Optimus groans out as he gently rocks his hips lightly to create more friction as you grind against his large spike. Your hands grip his spike as you let out a whine at the feeling of him, “I’m yours. N-no one else’s. I love you, I love you,” you whimper out desperately as your orgasm approaches. Transfluids start to leak from his tip and he pushes your hips down as he starts to apply more pressure to his length as he let out a deep moan from the feeling. Your juices have coated his spike as your thighs tighten and they become lubed up from your essence dripping down the sides of his spike. “‘M close, my love,” you gasp out as you continue to moan and whimper from the pleasure. “Optimus!” you cry out as your orgasm wracks through your body and your thighs squeeze around him. Optimus hasn’t stopped moving you against his spike as his hand moves down to hold your lower back and ass to continue the grinding. “Y-Y/N,” he groans loudly as he twitches and the transfluids shoot out from his spike in large spurts against his abdomen and breastplates. 
You watch the liquid shine against him and you bite your lip softly. “I… don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that,” you say lovingly before looking into his blue optics. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you… it’s quite sexy seeing you so- what’s the word,” you pause, “so deliciously possessive,” you finish with a smile and a small giggle. Optimus lets out a small chuckle as he raises his other servo to caress your cheek with the back of his finger. “I wasn’t too rough?” he asks softly with slight concern. “Your grip may have been too tight, but would I change that? Absolutely not. In fact, I like this rough side a bit,” you smile cutely, “it’s kinda, super, mega sexy,” you giggle brightly making Optimus laugh softly with you. “I love you with all of my spark and every inch of my being, Y/N,” Optimus says lovingly as he leans down a bit to rest his forehead against yours gently. Your hands go on either side of his face as you place soft kisses on his lips, nose, and forehead before resting your forehead back against his as you both close your eyes to breathe in the moment. “I adore you and every bit of me forever belongs to you. Mind, body, and soul. I love you,” you say in a soft whisper.
Bonus:
Sam turns to Bee at the place they were supposed to meet you and Optimus at. "Where are they?" Sam asks confused. Bee shrugs his shoulders and lifts his servos slightly, "Hell if I know," he says through multiple channel changes through his radio.
A/N: lmk what y'all thought about it!! comments appreciated 🫶🏻 tips are also appreciated, no matter how small 💞 much love and kisses to you all
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yoditopascal · 7 months
Text
Middle of the Night
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"In the middle of the night, I'm wide awake, I crave your taste. All night long 'til morning comes. I'm getting what is mine, you gon' get yours"
a/n: inspired by the comic Red Hood and the Outlaws VOL.1 Dark Trinity, I just read it and couldn’t get this idea outta my head
warning: MINORS DNI 18+, phone sex, first time saying ‘i love you’, Jason Todd is a warning all of his own
Jason Todd who stays up late in his little makeshift “bat cave” doing research on the next crime lord he’s about to take down but tonight he can’t focus
He knows he should be neck deep in his work not have his head in the clouds but all he can think about is you. How your home all alone in bed without him, probably sleeping in one of his shirts or that night gown he likes-
“Get a grip” he says shaking his head to clear his thoughts
It almost works for a second… almost
The next thing he knows, amongst the cheap takeout containers, his phone is going off, it’s a text from you.
Speak of the Devil
‘You busy?’ it says
He looks at the time, it’s a little past 4am. Christ what were you still doing up, didn’t you have work in the morning?
Just as the thought bubble popped up as he started to text back his phone goes off again, this time you’re FaceTiming him.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” He answers the phone with a wince. That came out a little harsher than he meant it.
“Can’t sleep.” You mumbled a reply adjusting your bonnet.
“Didja try?” He asked with a raised brow knowing you probably didn’t
“Missed you too much” you fake pouted “aaaand I may have been out with some friends earlier”
“Aaah so this is a booty call” he teased with a smug look on his face. Your cheeks darkened with a blush
“Shut up it is not! I really missed you!”
“Suuuuure” he continued
“Ass” you chewed you bottom lip as you readjusted the camera so that you were sitting on your bed hands free crisscrossed. When you moved he got a peak of your panties underneath the shirt which he realized was his.
“So what time did you get home?” he asked as he tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him but found his gaze drifting back to you on his phone
“Oh like three hours ago, me and the gang just went out to a club” you said nonchalantly
“You take your knife with you?” he asked with a serious tone
“Yes Jay and I wasn’t alone.” you rolled your eyes before propping your chin on your fist.
“Doesn’t matter you know how shitty Gotham can-“
“I know I know but I’m not worried” you interrupted him with a small smile
“Oh? You’re not huh?” he asked raising his eyebrow propping his phone up on his desk so he could mimic you propping his head on his fist.
“Nah see my guy watches out for me.” you smile sheepishly as you began to play with the hem of the shirt that was a little too big on you
“Oh yeah? And who’s this guy? Anyone I know?”
“You might’ve heard of him, he goes by Red Hood.” You bat your eyelashes at him
“Yeah I’ve heard of him” he smirks leaning back in his chair.
“He’s a pretty big guy and he’s super strong and handsome and-“
“Yeah alright I get it, enough.” Jason rolled his eyes turning his gaze back to his computer screen.
“You never let me compliment you.” you pout
“Change the subject.” he warns turning his gaze back to you, the look in his eyes showing that he meant what he said.
“So what’re you wearing?” you ask outta the blue, tucking your bonnet behind your ear.
“Really?” Jason deadpans as he almost chokes on his drink
“Yeah really.” you laughed
“You can see what I’m wearing” he said gesturing to his outfit with a serious face but the look in his eyes told you that he was messing with you. He wanted to hear you say what you wanted from him but you'd be damned if you gave him that kinda satisfaction
“Don’t be an ass Jay.”
“Fiiiine… I’m wearing a t-shirt and jeans.”
“Ooo sexy whatchu got on underneath?” you wolf whistle cartoonishly as you wiggled you eyebrows at him. Jason snorted.
“Are we really doing this mama?”
“Get into yuh!” you sang into the phone
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing.” he said raising his brow at you suggestively
“Just one of your shirts. It smells like you.” you smile and show off what your wearing accidently flashing him your panties again
“Yeah? You miss me that much huh?”
“Always” you sigh longingly as you gaze at him lovingly. He started to do the same before he caught himself. He honestly didn't know what you saw in him to be looking at him like that all the time.
Fabric rustling on the other side of the phone broke him outta his thoughts and brought his attention back to you just as you began to pull at his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting more comfortable” you said as you pull off his shirt revealing your bare chest to him
“Fuck, you’re killing me.” he swallows thickly
“Let’s hope not.” you chuckle as the panties were the next thing to go
"God you're so pretty baby" Jason watched you as you spread you folds and began touching yourself.
"So are you." you sighed running you other hands up and down your chest teasing your hardening nipples as you went.
Jason groaned running a hand down his face as he watched, his voice was rough and you knew he wanted to be there with you. Looking back up at the phone you watched as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down a little letting his dick spring free from his boxers
“You’re so fucking pretty” you cooed biting your lip as you watch him take his shirt off, your fingers rubbing fast little circles around your clit. Jason rolled his eyes briefly
“Keep going and I’ll take care of you all you want when I get home.” He groans in your ear as he begins to stroke himself, already impossibly hard and sensitive after watching you. He knew he wasn’t going to last long and by the looks of it neither were you.
“You’re—fuck—doin’ so good for me. so good, baby.”
You watched as his hand moved up and down his dick, his thumb coming around occasionally to circle the bright red tip, his hips stuttering as he thought about your hands instead of his. How you’d praise him, and tell him how good he looked while you jerked him off.
You grip the pillows beneath you, needing something to ground yourself as the pleasure starts building.
“Fuck, Jay, I’m almost—”
“Look at me,” he groaned moving his hand a little faster as he watched your fingers move even quicker, before they disappeared inside of your tight hole, your palm taking up the reigns and rubbing against your clit applying just the right amount of pressure as you fingered yourself
“Need you inside of me so bad.” you cried out, he needed it too, listening to you was going to be the death of him. The sounds you were making were enough to send him over the edge alone.
“Cum with me” Jason growled, hips arching slightly off the chair he was sat at
You did as he said, closing your eyes and listening to him panting through the phone as your orgasms washed over you both.
No one said anything for a while, the only sound filling the room was heavy breathing as you both came down from your collective high.
A yawn escaped your lips before either of you had a chance to say anything
Jason chuckled “Sleepy finally?”
“A little but I can stay up a bit longer if you want” you yawned again as you adjusted your self in bed pulling the covers over you.
“Nah it’s ok I got some work to finish up here then I’ll be home soon” Jason said tucking himself in and buttoning his pants back up.
“Alright baby”
“Get some sleep princess.” He said going back to looking at his computer screens
“G’night love you.” your voice slurred
Jason froze before shooting his gaze back to you on the phone
“Did you just-“ his heart pounded in his chest louder than it had all night long, there was no way you just casually let it slipped that you loved him for the first time, nah he had to have misheard you.
Before he could ask if you were serious just now the sound of your soft snores greets his ears as he watched you doze off causing a smile to rest on his face
Love you too baby
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evilminji · 3 months
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You know what would be HILARIOUS?
For everyone NOT involved in the situation?
If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?
"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*
Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.
Break Reality Until It's TRUE.
THEN they weren't technically lying!
They're a GENIUS~☆! :D
And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.
Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*
POOF!
Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.
The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.
.........th....they may have fucked up.
YOU THINK?
Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!
Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.
So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.
But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)
And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!
Ghost Uzumaki!
Your literal worst nightmare!
They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.
Kakashi gets the scroll.
Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.
He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??
RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!
They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...
So... he goes to summon his Dogs.
And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).
Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.
Like an Akimichi transformation.
A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.
Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.
G...God boy?
Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.
There's frolicking.
Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.
Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...
Oh god damn it.
Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.
(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay
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gojo-mochi · 7 months
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(´ε` )♡ Thinkin about a very clingy Zoro
CW: Sort of Yandere/Nonestablished Relationship. Noncon/dubcon. Fem!Reader
He's not vocal about his clinginess, more of a action man instead. Since you were first accepted in the crew, he wasn't all that welcoming compared to the rest of the crew. Especially Sanji who quickly warmed up to you, making you your favorites dishes and drinks on the night to celebrate your arrival in the crew. You were playing around with Chopper and Usopp when you felt someone sit in the seat right next to you, looking to your left you find the green-haired swordsman chugging down a mug of beer.
His eye lazily glanced down at you with his one good eye, slamming down his mug, making you jump a bit in your seat. He raised an eyebrow at that.
"Didn't think our new crewmate would be so jumpy." He snorted, making your face heat up and your blood boil a bit. Usopp waves him off, "Oh, come on! We all can't be power monsters like you guys. I, for one, am glad to add another person who has common sense to our crew!" He quickly changes the mood by taking your hand in his and pulling you to the dance floor, Chopper following suit. The three of you hold hands in a circle and started jumping around. You quickly forgot about that small interaction with Zoro, but that entire night he never took his eye off of you.
You soon realized that Zoro is just a bit rough around the edges and mostly blunt but he doesn't mean any real harm. Still, you keep your distance mostly from him, opting to hang out with Chopper or Usopp instead. There was just something about the way he looks at you, like he was eyeing down a prey, it makes your spine shiver anytime you glance his way and catch him staring back.
Maybe he was still untrusting of you? It would make sense, he is the first mate, he gotta protect his crew after all. That was the reason you told yourself at least, to justify all the time you caught Zoro just staring at you from afar or downright following you. You gotten slowly used to his presence, not jumping up in shock anymore, anytime he would sneak up behind you or placed a hand on your shoulder.
Zoro got warmer to you, you think at least. He's usually fighting beside you in battles, or walking close by when you're out shopping in town. A hand on your shoulder, moves to a hand down your back, to a hand on your waist. You figured after a while, he accepted you as a crewmate and was just overprotective of the newcomer. It didn't help you found Zoro kinda attractive, so you let him get away with the small touching he did.
And then the touching grew into more and more, and you found yourself not being able to voiced out concerns anymore. The other crewmate, beside Luffy, often giggled when they find the two of you together. Usopp and Franky would make kissy faces when Zoro would sit next to you at lunch. Sanji looks at you dejected from time to time, muttering under his breath, "What does she even see in that moss-brain idiot.."
It wasn't like you were dating Zoro, right? He never asked you out officially, he just always been there. Always...
And, now he was getting bold with his actions. When he's sleeping on the desk, resting his back on the side of the Sunny, he would sense you walking by and trips you on purpose. Making you land on his lap and holding you there. Letting out a huge yawn over your complaining and rolling over on top of you, if you were to squirm around too much. Brook would wolf-whistle if you kept on squirming while underneath Zoro, making you effectively stop all movement.
When it's his turn on the Crow Nest, Zoro would pick you up by the scuff of your shirt, dragging you away from whatever it was you're doing and make you go up there with him. He'll do the same when he's in training at the gym. Stating that he needs "help" with his workout. Though, you're not sure what you're helping by just sitting on his chest or back while he does his reps.
If you're in town or meeting other crews, Zoro would be behind you, or he'll have you tucked into his side, arms around you tight. Glaring at anyone who ever tries to look your way. All the other crews knew that you were 'Zoro's property' and not to mess with you, unless they wanted to end up on impaled on his swords.
He knew your routine to a T, what time you woke up, takes a shower, your daily tasks. And he would just be there at your side or if he had another task to do, he'll keep an eye on you, always...
He knew what you like and dislike, picking up small snacks and trinkets for you, dropping them off on your lap without a word. But looking down at you expectingly, like cat wanting praise for being their owner an offering. Though you were unsure who was the pet and who was the owner in this scenario, as somehow you ended up in Zoro's bed.
Dragged away once again, right after a bath night with the girls too. Nami giggled at the two of you and Robin told you to "Keep it safe." as she waves you off, the both of them seemingly ignoring the confused and panicked look on your face.
He smelt like musk and sweat and you idly wondered if he showered yet or just came to bed right after the gym. He was still shirtless as he presses you right up agaisnt his chest, his head buried on top of your hair. Snuffing at your scent, a deep rumble blooms in his chest as he squeezes you a bit tighter, his biceps trapping you in this position. He lets out a deep sigh, hands traveling down your body, grabbing and pinching at your skin.
Grunting out when you start to wiggle and struggle a bit in his grasp, accidentally brushing your knees right up against his hard on. He push his own knee right between your legs, forcing them apart as he makes you grind on his thigh. The thin pajamas short you were wearing did little to help against the friction it was causing, he flexes his thighs in a way that make you mewl out and dig your nails in his shoulders.
"Good girl.." He growls out, finally addressing you like a person and not some doll.
"Zo-Zoro, what are we-Mmph!" He silences you with a kiss, speeding up his movement and moving his hands down to grope at your ass. His tongue parting your lips open and invading your mouth hotly. You moan so sweetly underneath him like this, your back arching up into him as he remove one hand to ghost under your shirt, pinching at your nipples.
He parts away from you, and from the moonlight coming thru the window. You saw Zoro's face, flushed with a light pink, and his eye starting down at you. A deep dark desire swirling within them, he grins almost manically at you.
"I knew it... I always knew you wanted me too...haha.."
He moves back a bit to get both legs in between yours so he could spread you open even more. His hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs and pushing it to your chest. Your hands clamber to stop him, heart racing over this fast exchange of events.
"You're gonna be punished for making me wait so long.."
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stevie-petey · 8 months
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episode two: trick or treat, freak
 “Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t.  Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”
Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.
Rating: general, slight cursing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol
Words: 7.9k
Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !
-
The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween. 
Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair. 
“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat. 
“Eat.”
“But my proton blaster–”
“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop. 
“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”
You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve. 
Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures. 
“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”
You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”
“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face. 
It’s a happy morning. 
Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible. 
You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song. 
“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road. 
Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”
Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.��
Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion. 
“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff. 
“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”
– 
At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook. 
As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you. 
“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you. 
You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”
“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean. 
“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it. 
Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.” 
You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing. 
Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”
Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady. 
“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.
“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you. 
You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.” 
Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different. 
You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve. 
– 
Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her english essays. 
It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.
Today though there’s something off with Nancy. 
She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,” 
“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”
Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener. 
You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks. 
“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.” 
Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them? 
“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle. 
“It’s… complicated.” 
“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.” 
Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”
When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her. 
“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”
Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”
Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”
“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”
You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill. 
“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more. 
She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did. 
As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain. 
Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?” 
“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.” 
“Did he notice you were upset?”
“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply. 
You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”
“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”
“Nancy…”
“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.
Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.” 
“Y/N–”
“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”
Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”
“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before. 
You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”
Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her. 
Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy. 
“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”
“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so. 
Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”
“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”
Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet. 
You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.
–  
Halloween is in full swing the second Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy. 
“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 
“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”
“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”
Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.” 
“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight. 
It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.
You stand in front of your mirror and smile. 
It’s perfect. 
You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her. 
Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that. 
The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess. 
Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.
“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door. 
You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”
Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”
“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time. 
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”
You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”
“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”
“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”
He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside. 
Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress. 
Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”
He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”
You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor. 
He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup. 
Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”
His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined. 
Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.
For now, he’s still yours. 
“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed. 
You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”
“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”
“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile. 
“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.” 
Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.
“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?
You blink. “What did I miss?”
“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs. 
Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”
“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”
Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him. 
You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a sixteen year old.” 
Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling. 
How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?
You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing. 
Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.
Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own. 
“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”
Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”
“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”
“9:30?”
You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”
“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”
“Deal!”
The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.
“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”
“We made the right choice, right?”
“I hope so.”
Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.
“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”
“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”
“We are?”
“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”
“Nancy begged you to come–”
You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”
– 
The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away. 
Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”
“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”
“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”
“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”
“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at. 
As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house. 
“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.
You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”
“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan. 
Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan. 
Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?” 
“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”
“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”
The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”
Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him. 
You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips. 
Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then. 
Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.
Shit. 
You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.
“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.
Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away. 
“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her. 
“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”
Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.” 
He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place. 
How fun. 
You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do. 
As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.
“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose. 
“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?” 
Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”
You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near. 
Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”
“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”
At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”
You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent. 
“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly. 
Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”
You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”
“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole. 
“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him. 
“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.
Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.
Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.” 
A silence falls over the crowd.
Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”
Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.” 
“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.” 
Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”
They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”
Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”
Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”
Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here. 
“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”
Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards. 
Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight. 
“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”
Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”
Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”
You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this. 
“I’ll drive Steve home.”
Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them. 
You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone. 
“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”
“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”
Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.
– 
When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty. 
But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.
Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”
He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand. 
Okay. You deserved that. 
When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips. 
You start to drive. 
Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone. 
“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.
“Make a left up here.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”
“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”
Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”
“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”
“I…” You can’t. 
Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”
You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”
Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”
“Yeah, scared.”
“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”
You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”
Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”
“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”
You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”
“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine. 
“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere. 
But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.
Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried. 
As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”
“Steve…”
“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.” 
Nancy lied about loving him?
Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” 
You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go. 
“You won’t leave me again?”
Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never. 
And it’s enough for now. 
The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours. 
Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.
Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now. 
Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan. 
“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.” 
You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.
“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”
Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”
“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”
Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”
“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.
Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night. 
It’s a start.
It’s all you could’ve asked for. 
Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve. 
“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”
“What–”
“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”
Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”
“Nah, you just have to trust me.”
“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation. 
You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”
Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care. 
For now, he’s content. 
Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand. 
– 
The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”
Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”
You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you. 
However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”
“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”
Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”
He’s definitely acting suspicious. 
“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”
You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!
“What?” You freeze. 
Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”
“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”
“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing. 
“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”
Dart lets out a small screech in response. 
“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”
Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.
You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been. 
Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.
-
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luimagines · 10 days
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Can I request a thing for Kid!Hero Reader where, before their journey starts, they meet the chain in the marketplace while walking around with the ghost!chain? Kinda like the thing i sent where the chain catch a glimpse of the triforce on their hand?
-🍄
Imma have to dig deep to remember all of this mushroom. But let's see what I can do. :D
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
You weren't entirely what to expect but the uncles and grandpa's that followed you around today where a little more quiet than usual. More tense. Which is strange because that's never happened before.
They were always talking. If not one, then another.
But they all seemed to be waiting on baited breath for something to happen.
You tried to ignore the feeling that they were intensely watching everything you did. You wanted to go back to bed and forget the feeling of uneasy but you needed more eggs. And you need more butter.
Deciding that it's better to get it over with, you hike up your big kid pants and go to the market to go get the groceries.
"...Do you remember who they met first?"
"Not a clue. Stop talking."
"Please talk to me." You whisper to the voices beside your ear. "Where did you all go?"
"We're here." The oldest of them speaks calmly, a whisp of a touch over your head. "But today is important. We can't change what's about to happen."
"Will it hurt?" You ask to the wind.
Another whisp of a breath over your cheek. "No. We will protect you as we always have."
"Ok, Grandpa. I'm trusting you." You gulp and continue to walk. With the feeling of the heroes behind you, you take a deep breath and continue on with what you head planned to do.
"Over here!!" A voice calls out.
It almost gives you whiplash. You know that voice.
But it wasn't distorted or faint. You heard it.
A group of boys crosses in front of you. They were all of various ages but recognized a few of them.
"Captain." You say without thinking. He was always wearing that ridiculous scarf.
The young man in question stops and turns to you with such startling speed that you gasp and take a step back. He's so... young.
"Great work, Captain Obvious. You scared them."
"That's not how I remember it."
"Shut up all of you."
You somehow find it in yourself to wave.
He smiles and waves back, getting down on his knee to meet your eyes better. "Hello there. What's your name?"
You tell him your name, staring at him non-to-subtly.
"Where are your parents?" He asks you, catching the attention of the other boys in the group.
You gasp, seeing the bigger guy. He has a scar and paint on his face. You know him too. He's less grumpy. "Grandpa?"
The younger Captain raises and eyebrow and turns to look at those whos attention you've caught.
Oh... You think you can see it now. These are your uncles and grandpas. But they're... here... and Alive? And young. So young. One of them can't be that much older than you but you know him too. He was a pirate when he was a boy. He told you that.
"Relax." The wolf man whispers to your ear. Fur brushes past your other cheek. "We've always protected you. Always have, Always will."
A golden glow shines on your hand.
With a gasp you try to try to hide the calling card for trouble.
Their eyes narrow at once. Of course, they'd recognize it.
Feeling awkward from all their stares, you waves again- with your other not glowing hand. "...I was shopping for lunch. You can come to my house. We can all eat?"
"Oh poor thing. I'm so sorry we scared you so much."
"They're tough. We made sure of it."
"Don't worry Little Buddy. You're doing great."
"We'll be honored." The young captain smiles and it's warm. You smile back. He was always charming but it's different this time.
You don't know how to explain it to them. To tell them just how much they all mean to you... But you don't have to.
They already know.
"We're still here. Right beside you. Every step of the way."
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thechekhov · 8 months
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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH40
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Laios is apparently only good at drawing monsters.
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You guys have no faith in him! Come onnnn
To that point, if the shapeshifters that are left are the most similar to the real selves, doesn't that prove that Laios actually knows them best? The other, easily-discounted shapeshifters were easily singled out as fakes because they were so caricature like.
The remaining fakes are just minutely different from the real selves. Chilchuk has slightly larger eyes, Marcille's hair is thinner, and Senshi has sharper features. What that says to me is that Laios is actually the BEST at reconstructing them in his mind.
Unfortunately, that. Kinda makes it harder.
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Welll.......yeah. No, that makes sense.
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This is a problem you all created 😂
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This is legitimately making me question everything. Because like... Marcille A is acting pretty sus. But they've been through a lot, so maybe she's just depressed?
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Oooooooh someone minmaxed into gayness. That's certainly a dependable strategy.
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FAKE!!!!! He's the fake! Senshi would never deplete an ecosystem completely like that!!!!
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ah yes, all sorts of nutrition. White rice is known for its nutrition like...... (looks at smeared writing on hand) carbohydrates and scant amounts of folates. Yep.
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HE IS HANDSOME, BUT NOT "B"!! "A" IS ALSO HANDSOME!! THEY'RE BOTH HANDSOME!
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.......guys. GUYYS.
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Laios, you're such an absolute loser and I love you but please. Please turn on the autism. Just this once, please turn on the autism beam and point it at your friends. Please
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"all of them! Everyone is fake! Including me!"
Wouldn't that be a plot twist.
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why are both the chillchucks upset at this suggestion? shouldn't the real ones be relieved?
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Illusions with physical traits, though? Is that not obvious once you start roughing it up with it? If something can be physical enough to fight, why not just use that thing to overpower the adventurer, then?
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....so it's a vampire created illusion?
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Okay, so because I saw someone else post this page to my dash about a week ago I'm actually fully aware of what comes next, and I can say with certainty that it does not ruin it. At all.
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I gotta say, as a weird little kid that practiced barking like a dog and mimicking dog howls, this is making me feel SO SEEN. He's just like me fr.
And the fact that they're all supporting his talent........friendship is magic.
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I'm so intrigued by this man and how his mind works.
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Love is not letting your dumbass furry friend climb into the wolf enclosure at the zoo and try to fight the alpha of the pack.
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This is. So real. I've never seen a manga commit SO MUCH to the weird little man trope, and I love Kui-san so much for this. This is true representation.
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Dumbass recognizes dumbass. This is why they're friends.
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I WAS WONDERING ABOUT THAT. I also didn't remember it!
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Oh, hmm.....
I'm relatively certain the hand that Marcille grasped in the last chapter WAS the cat's hand. That means the cat followed them - but because no one knew she was there, the shapeshifter didn't create any illusions of her. That means she was just hiding out, observing everything.
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Is she just sleeping in there curled up on the rice?
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Ahhh, so it was a distraction.
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warning-heckboop · 1 month
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A little something based on a sort of spin-off of @bunnieswithknives's Nature au that my partner and I came up with while chatting. The premise is under the cut because it's kinda of long :')
Conversation taken directly from Discord for efficiency's sake. Regular text is my own, bolded is @adhdemizel
The animal they witness the shooting as is a deer. The last animal Dale sees them as before they reveal their true form is a wolf
I have this concept based on the Nature au in my head of an actual changeling witnessing Dale shoot Dev, and because fae are all about rules and stuff, the changeling travels across the land as various animals until it finds Dale again, only to then reveal its true, monstrous form in the process of ripping Dale's own leg off. Because an eye for an eye and all that jazz
Using magic to blend in or to cover more ground, and finally finding them and SERVING JUSTICE--
After they rip Dale's leg off, Peri comes to investigate all the screaming because he's worried for Dev's safety, and he and the now-a-wolf-again fae, who's soaked in blood, lock eyes, and Peri sees the familar glint of magic, and he knows
Just an actual random changeling who lived in the forest. They aren't a god parent, but rather an independent fae
They have no tie to Dev, other than witnessing his injury, and then feeling the urge to restore the balance that Dale disturbed
They're acting on their own, but do you think they see Peri, another magic creature, and feel like he failed? Disappointed that they had to step up and make things right for another fae's human?
Mmmm not necessarily! I feel like an independent fae would still know the basics about god parents, and how strict the rules they're bound by are. I think they'd be more so angry at the god parent system overall
Peri, also angry at the god parent system
Secretly grateful for this other fae doing what he couldn't
Maybe he's supposed to report to Jorgen about this rogue fae, to keep them from hurting anyone else. But he doesn't
Turning away to let something huge slide because it was in defense of a kid he couldn't protect
I like to think that even Jorgen would have let it slide, if he'd known. Dale deserved it
He'd tell Peri he dealt with it as needed, but literally all he did was go "nice" and shred the report
The other fae goes back home and let's others in the area know to watch out for a one-legged fae hunter with sharp red hair, just in case he tries again
He probably would try again. Now that he knows they're real, he's determined to catch one
That might have been one benefit of Peri actually telling Jorgen--Jorgen would have wiped Dale's memory and made it seem like a normal animal attack
Do you think he'd drag Dev along again?
Oh, certainly. He needs bait, and he can't risk anymore of his own limbs. It was Dev's fault he messed up as bait the first time. He needs to make up for that failure
He plates his prosthetic with iron for extra protection
Not permanently, because it's unsightly, but also not for Dev. He doesn't want anything to ward fae away from Dev.
Surely any changelings who saw Dev would know he's much too young to be the hunter they were told about.... Right?
Fae have impossibly long lifespans, he might look like a child, but all humans seem too young to them
You're right. And he matches the description so perfectly...
I guess it will have to be up to Peri to protect him, when he comes down to it. Lord knows Dale has better things to do
Dale, not-so-secretly hoping Dev gets into a confrontation so he can swoop in- not to play the hero in any way, but so Dev doesn't get in the way again
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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Hungry Like The Wolf
Chapter Seven
She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.
1.4K
Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando
Series Masterlist
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"What the hell do you want?"
Oscar stared down at Lando. He was taller than the werewolf, but not by a lot. Lando wasn't intimidated by his height, that much clear by the way he snarled.
But Lando dropped the snarl. "I think we should talk."
It wasn't what Oscar was expecting, not in the slightest. Maybe for Lando to launch at him, try and rip out his throat. A sigh left his lips as he let Lando into the house and led him through to his bedroom.
He might have been the first werewolf to step foot in the vampire house. Nest, some would call it. But Oscar hated that word. It made them seem less... human. But, really, how human were they?
Lando didn't much look around his room when he walked in. He sat on the bed and pulled his hoodie up to better cover his neck, something that wasn't missed by Oscar.
"What do you want?" Asked Oscar as he sat by the window.
He'd never seen Lando like this. He was always hot headed, pouncing before he could really think. But now he was quiet, contemplative. "You kissed her," he said.
Oh, that was what this was about. "I did," Oscar sat as he leaned against his extensive bookshelf (at least one hundred books filled it yet he hadn't touched a single one since the invention of the PlayStation).
"And then you kissed me."
He nodded, watching for Lando's reaction. That was something he'd always been good at, reading people. He waited for a look of disgust to cross Lando's face, but it was never there.
"And then I kissed her."
Oscar hadn't quite been expecting that. It wasn't exactly a surprise, just unexpected. "You did, huh?" He asked as he wiped the dust from one of the shelves with his finger. "Took you long enough."
Suddenly, Lando was standing, eyes flashing. "I kissed your girlfriend, who I just so happen to have been in love with since I was a kid, and that's your reaction?" He yelled. If the rest of the vampires in the house weren't listening before this, they certainly were now. "Be fucking human for once."
Oscar schooled his features, remaining cool and calm. "How'd you suppose I do that, Lando?" He strode towards him as guilt flashed behind Lando's eyes. "Is it such a fucking crime that I have a thing for the both of you?"
It, admittedly, wasn't a possibility Lando had taken into consideration. But then again, he hadn't thought he'd like kissing a male vampire as much as he did. Didn't expect to find himself wanting to again.
"Well, what are we supposed to do? March up to her house and say 'hey this is a bit out there but we both want to date you and we also want to date each other. Also he can't die and I turn into a fucking dog once a month'? If she doesn't kick us out her dad would get his gun," Lando said as he sat back down.
Oscar stared at him. For a full minute, as he went over Lando's words. "Did you just say you want to date me?"
"Huh?"
"You just said 'we want to date each other'."
"I said a lot of things, Osc."
Now, the two had never been in close enough proximity without tearing at each other for Lando to call him 'Osc'. He might have been a pale, undead being, but a blush still rose to his cheeks.
And, suddenly, Oscar was kissing him. He stepped closer and kissed him, dragging his pointed canines across his bottom lip. Lando didn't push him away. No, quite the opposite. He ran his hands through Oscar's hair, tugging enough to pull a whine from his lips.
But then Lando did step away. Rather breathlessly he stepped away from Oscar. "You gotta start warning me," he said as he wiped at his mouth. "Look, Osc...ar, I like kissing you. I think that's kinda clear. But dating you is a whole other..." He waved his hands around as he searched for the words. "But I'm not saying never. Take a guy out for a drink first, you know?"
The giggling laugh that left Lando's lips, Oscar could have listened to it forever. "Should we go tell her?"
"What are we gonna tell her?" Lando asked. His hand brushed against Oscars but he quickly shoved it into his pocket. They weren't quite there yet, and that was okay.
Oscar shrugged his shoulders as he led Lando out of the house. "What you said, I guess. That we want to date her and we also might one day want to date each other."
"And the bit about us being..."
"Leave that out for now," Oscar said quickly. He knew from the moment he kissed Lando, from the moment he started dreaming about the three of them together, that this conversation wouldn't be quite so easy for him.
Lando was a werewolf. A big, dangerous wolf who could come across as cute and cuddly. But Oscar? He had to kill to stay alive. How could he ever be loved?
He didn't let his thoughts stray as the two made their way into town. Crossing into the werewolf side of town didn't feel quite as illegal with Lando by his side. Lando, who was making talking so easy. Lando, who was still a little wary of him. Lando, who pushed past that wariness.
But here they stood, in front of her door. Oscar sucked in a breath, his pose mirroring Lando. Both of them with their hands shoved into their pockets. "Do you want to?" Oscar asked as he gestured to the door.
Lando looked up at the bedrooms. "We could just go to her window," he said.
"Yeah, and have Toto try to murder us."
"What're you so worried about? You literally can't die."
Oscar knocked on the door. It was hesitant and slow, and probably a bit ominous. But Susie didn't look wary as she pulled the door open. "Hello, boys," she said, stepping to the side to let them in.
"Hello, Mrs Wolff," they said in quick succession as they came to stand in the foyer. They wiped their shoes on the mat by the door and looked around the house they'd both been in many times before.
"She's upstairs," Susie said before returning to the kitchen, where she had her laptop open for work and Jake sitting beside her, colouring in a race car.
The boys looked at each other. This was it. They were really doing this. The two apex predators were terrified.
Lando led the way up the stairs. He kept his gaze fixed forward, only to keep his feet moving in the same direction. The steady, thumping bass of music filled his ears as he approached her door.
When he knocked, the music switched off. The boys spared a glance at each other, but only for a second. Because then the door was pulled open, and the minimal amount of courage they'd built up on their way up the stairs had flown out of the window.
Surprise was written on her face as she looked at them. "Hey guys," she said, brows furrowing. "I... thought you didn't know each other."
Oscar couldn't stop himself from looking at Lando. Lando, who looked guilty. "You told her we didn't know each other?"
"That was before..." He did that thing where he waved his hands because he couldn't find the word.
She let them into her room, shut the door behind them and sat on her bed. They could have sat, but they didn't. No, they stayed standing by her desk. "What's going on with you guys?" She asked as she folded her arms over her chest.
They couldn't say anything. Lando coughed. "After you," he said and nudged Oscar.
"No no," he said. "After you."
Lando sucked in a breath. "We... aren't human."
"Lando!"
Well, that certainly didn't go to plan."
a/n: this might be my favourite chapter i love these silly little guys
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writeforfandoms · 1 year
Text
Howlin’ For You
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Wolf shifter!Soap gets himself lost on a run one night and runs into you. The problem? You think he's a dog and take him home to try and find his people. Naturally, Soap falls head over heels.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader
Warnings: Swearing, shifter lore, world building, I just kinda throw y’all in the deep end, Price is pack dad. 
Word count: 8k
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Alright. So maybe the nighttime run had been a bad idea. Maybe. And maybe Soap shouldn’t have shifted on his own. And maaaaaybe he should have paid more attention to where he was going. 
But he wasn’t lost! He’d never been lost in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.
He just… had to find the right road back to base. That was all. 
He briefly debated shifting back, but he didn’t fancy having to explain why he was running around naked. Price would kill him for that. And then Ghost would probably kill him, too. 
So he huffed and continued trotting along. Fortunately the wound in his shoulder had healed enough not to bother him at this easy pace, though he was careful to monitor it. Despite what medical said, he didn’t like being benched for injuries.
Which was why he’d gone on a night run in the first place. Couldn’t sleep, pack was gone on a mission, it seemed like a good idea at the time. 
…Yeah this had definitely been a bad idea.
Soap huffed again, pausing to shake himself off. He’d slid down a hill earlier, which hadn’t hurt him, but it had half-covered him in mud. He did not approve. He would much rather be clean.
And he’d get to clean off just as soon as he got back to base. 
Lifting his nose, he sniffed around for any hint he could pick up. But there was nothing special here - hints of deer and rabbits, old car smell, and tiny whiffs of human. But not a particular human, not like he was close to infringing on anyone’s property. 
Which meant he was pretty well in the middle of nowhere.
Gaz was never going to let him live this down. 
His ears pricked and he turned his head as he heard a car coming down the road, slowly getting louder. He trotted a couple steps off to the side, just in case, and watched as the car rounded the bend, headlights even brighter in the relative dark to his eyes. The car slowed and the hazard lights turned on, flashing orange in the dark, even as the car slowed to a stop on the shoulder. 
The driver’s door opened and Soap tensed a little, watching carefully. But it was just a woman - she smelled good. Human, absolutely, but good. His nose twitched in interest. 
“Hey pup,” she greeted, getting out of her car and crouching down. “You okay over there? Where are your people?” 
Oh. She thought he was a dog. Well, he supposed she could be forgiven for that - it was dark, and he was muddy, and okay yeah he did kind of look like a dog. Gaz liked to tease him about it sometimes. 
“I’ve got some goodies here,” she continued, moving slowly, pulling a bag out of her car. The crinkle caused his ears to perk, and he sniffed hopefully. Smelled like jerky. Mmm. “You want some? C’mere, I’ve got plenty.” She tossed a piece about half-way across the road, and he trotted forward to gobble it up. 
Really, she was nowhere near a threat, even with him on four legs. He could get himself out of trouble easily enough. 
“Good pup,” she crooned, keeping her voice gentle. “You want more?” She held out a piece to him. 
Soap paused to consider this. On the one hand, free food. On the other, she was clearly trying to get him close enough to check for a collar, which she wouldn’t find. 
Well. If nothing else, she’d get him back to civilization, and from there he could figure out how to get back to base. He’d be fine.
So he stepped forward to take the jerky from her, making sure to be very gentle. He didn’t even flinch as her free hand checked for a collar. 
“Looks like you escaped from someone’s yard,” she mused softly, gaze sweeping over him. “Alright. Do you wanna come in the car? Go on a little car ride? I’ll give you more jerky.”
Soap just wagged his tail at her, waiting patiently as she opened the back door before he hopped in. At least she didn’t try to buckle him in, he hated that. She did give him another piece of jerky, as promised, before she slid back into the driver’s seat. 
This was going to be interesting. 
You couldn’t help glancing back at the dog in the backseat. Partially to make sure he was okay, partially because you were nervous, and partially because you were trying to figure out if you’d seen him before. He was a big dog, but very well behaved. Hopefully you’d be able to get the mud off of him to get a better look at him. 
The vet was undoubtedly closed by now, so you wouldn’t be able to get him checked for a microchip until morning. 
But you couldn’t regret bringing him home. You just didn’t have it in you to leave a dog on the side of the road, especially one so obviously a beloved pet. 
You parked in front of your tiny house, getting out and gathering up your things before letting the dog out. You had another piece of jerky in hand, hoping that would entice him to cooperate. 
“This way,” you murmured to the dog, watching him hop down out of your car. “C’mon, let’s go inside and get cleaned up. And maybe have some dinner, hmm?”
The dog wagged his tail again and trotted right up to the front door, like he expected to be let in. You laughed softly but let him in, giving him the piece of jerky and then giving him a minute to sniff around. 
“Alright, if you’re a pet, you should know better than to potty in the house,” you said, setting your things down. “Shower first, I think. For you.” You eyed the muddy pawprints left on the floor and decided that was now a tomorrow problem. “Okay. C’mon pup.” You tapped the side of your thigh, and the dog followed you back to your bathroom. 
He didn’t even protest getting in the shower, thankfully. Just stood under the spray calmly. 
The problems started when you got out the shampoo. (Which, honestly, you were amazed you still had any under your sink, you’d bought it for a friend’s dog ages ago.) 
Then he boofed softly, circling in the shower and refusing to hold still for more than a second at a time. He kept pulling his paws away from you. 
“Stubborn,” you grumbled at the dog, though you couldn’t help but laugh when he kept walking under your hand, inadvertently spreading the shampoo. “Well, I guess this is one way to do it.” 
Rinsing off was another exercise in patience - the dog didn’t want to hold still, and ended up shaking muddy soap suds all over the shower, and your clothes. You just sighed deeply. 
“Don’t make me regret being nice to you,” you grumbled, finally washing off the last of the soap. “Alright, guess it’s time to dry off.”
The dog bounded out of the shower and bounced around the tiny bathroom. Seriously bounced. Water got everywhere, and you just stared for a moment in absolute dismay.
“Definitely regretting all my life choices.” But you grabbed a towel and started working on drying him off.
It took two towels before you released him into the rest of the house and changed out of your dirty clothes. 
The dog, of course, acted like nothing was wrong and sat patiently in the kitchen, tail wagging. 
“You’re a menace,” you told the dog, although you started gathering up ingredients anyway. “It’s probably super late for your dinner, but oh well. This is when I normally eat.” You paused. “Shit, you can’t eat some things, right? Hang on.” You whipped out your phone to do a bit of frantic googling. 
The dog boofed again, walked two circles around you, and then laid down with the biggest sigh. You looked away from your phone and right into big gorgeous blue puppy dog eyes… and you caved, crouching down to scratch his ears. 
“You’re just too cute,” you grumbled. “I can’t be mad at you.” You stroked your hand down the dog’s back. “You’re a handsome boy too, aren’t you?” He really was, mostly red with a white stripe down his nose, white socks, and a little white blotch at his shoulders. You’d lay even odds that he was part husky. 
He stayed where he was as you cooked, humming a little to yourself, big eyes following your every move. But at least he wasn’t underfoot. 
“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the vet, see if you’ve got a microchip,” you told him, leaning back against the counter to let everything cook a bit. “And if not, I’ll put up signs. You can’t have traveled too far.” 
The dog just sat up when you plated food, leaving a bowl on the ground for him. You’d checked all the ingredients and just had to hope it wouldn’t upset his stomach. 
After throwing the dishes in the sink and taking him out for a potty break, you were more than ready for bed. 
Apparently, so was the dog, as he immediately hopped up on your bed.
“Hey!” You frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 
The dog wagged his tail at you and then circled the end of the bed before laying down, curled into an almost perfect circle. 
“Oh my god.” You threw your hands up and turned to get ready for bed. “Fine, but don’t complain if I kick you in the middle of the night.” 
But if you were being honest with yourself, when you laid down to sleep, the soft breathing and the warmth of the dog was… soothing. He made you feel less alone, less isolated. 
You reminded yourself firmly to not get attached, because he wasn’t staying. 
So, of course, he wasn’t microchipped.
“Nope,” the vet tech confirmed the following morning. “No microchip. I don’t recognize him, either.”
“Well, it was worth a try,” you said on a sigh, patting the dog’s head. “Thanks for checking for me.”
“Sure thing!”
“Guess I need to make some posters,” you said, looking down at the dog. He boofed at you, tail wagging. 
You had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
Soap actually hadn’t meant to stay this long. He really hadn’t. But, well, you were pretty and lonely. It wasn’t hard for him to smell it on you, although it was less pervasive when he stuck near you. 
And the team wasn’t supposed to be back for a few more days, so it wasn’t a problem to stay for a little longer. 
(He could also admit, if only to himself, that he also needed more time to orient himself. He had no idea where the fuck he had ended up.) 
Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was making it work. And he wasn’t stupid, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay long. Tonight, probably, he’d have to leave. Now that he knew where he was and where he needed to go. 
Hell, he knew that if Price found out, he’d have Soap’s head. Staying with an uninitiated human was risky, even though he had excellent control of his shifts. And it wasn’t just a risk to himself, but to his whole team. 
Bad decisions seemed to be the theme of his forced downtime, though. 
He’d just have to leave tonight and sneak back onto base. No big deal. Nobody would know, he wouldn’t get in trouble, everything would be fine. 
He did feel a bit bad when he hopped down lightly from your bed. Hopefully you wouldn’t spend too much time looking for him. 
Making sure to leave the back door cracked open a few inches to show how he’d gotten out, Soap trotted off back towards base. It would be tight, getting back in before sunrise, but he’d always enjoyed a good challenge. 
He didn’t enjoy being wrong.
Which he very much was.
Price stood outside the barracks, arms crossed, staring down at him. Soap gulped, ears flattening to his head, tail tucked. 
“Inside,” Price growled, opening the door for him. Soap slunk through the door, obediently following Price down the hall and to his room. 
By now, the lot of them had no shame around each other. Hard to be body-shy when they’d all shifted together, many times, and shared sometimes tight sleeping quarters. So Soap just waited until the door was closed to shift back to human. 
“Explain.” Price leaned back against the door, arms crossed over his chest again.
“Didn’t think ye’d be back so soon,” Soap muttered, grabbing a shirt first. 
Price didn’t say anything, just stared Soap down, even and outwardly calm as only he could be. 
“Just went for a run,” Soap said, shrugging, even as he grabbed more clean clothes to pull on. “No’ a big thing.”
“Must have been a long run.” 
“Aye.” Soap swallowed. “Might’ve gone farther than I wanted.” 
Price nodded once. “Any trouble?”
Soap shook his head. “Nah. I was careful.”
Finally, Price’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. And your shoulder?”
“Almost healed.” Soap relaxed too, grinning briefly. “I’m careful ‘bout it!”
Price snorted his disbelief of that. “Then you can go running with Ghost. 0600.”
Soap didn’t groan, because that wouldn’t help his case. He tried not to pout, because this was absolutely a punishment, and they both knew it. “Yes, sir.” 
Price nodded once and let himself out, the door clicking shut softly after him. Soap flopped face-first onto his bed and groaned into his pillow. 
You tried hard not to be heartbroken when you found the back door open a little, cold morning air wafting in. The dog was gone.
Hopefully he’d find his way back home on his own. 
You spent the next three days keeping your eyes open any time you went anywhere, just in case. If he was still lost, well, at least he knew you. You could always make more dog-friendly food. 
And when you didn’t see the dog for a week, you figured that was it. He’d found his way back home. That was okay. It was much better for him to be at home. You wouldn’t wish losing a dog on anyone. At least, not anyone who took such good care of their dog. 
You parked in front of your house and slumped forward, forehead resting on the steering wheel. You were tired. Exhausted, really. The kind of exhausted that came from too little sleep and stress and probably a little bit of touch starvation. 
You might have stayed right there for longer, trying to find the energy to move, except there was a woof, and then the car shook a little as a dog stood on its hind legs to look in the window. The dog. 
“What the hell?” You blinked at the dog and then grabbed your things, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”
The dog wagged happily at you, boofing at you and running up to the front door. When you didn’t move fast enough, he ran back to you, tail still wagging. 
“I thought you went home.” You blinked again but moved slowly to the door, opening the door. The dog pushed past you to head inside, trotting right along. He looked good - no mud this time, at least. His coat looked good, and he didn’t look like he’d lost any weight. So he was being taken care of.
Even if he had escaped yet again. 
“You’re going to give your people a heart attack,” you scolded gently, locking the door behind you before putting your things down. “How did you even get back here?” 
He whined a little, excited, tail still going a mile a minute as he tried to wait patiently for you in the kitchen. You dropped a hand to pat the top of his head, opening your fridge to look inside.
Not that there was much to see. You hadn’t been shopping, and it showed. 
“Um.” You frowned, glancing down at the dog. “Hm. Well, I can probably whip up something.” 
The dog watched you, sitting just at the edge of your space so he was barely not in the way, eyes bright and ears perked. He was pretty big for a husky, even though the coloring matched. He was probably a mutt of some kind, but you were a bit surprised at his size. 
“Here you go, big boy.” You set a bowl down for him again and took your own plate to the tiny table. 
Where you sat and stared at it, stomach turning. You needed to eat. You knew you needed to eat.
You just… didn’t want to.
The dog rested his head on your thigh, whining softly. But he was looking up at you, not at your plate. 
“It’s okay, pup,” you immediately murmured, one hand dropping to scratch between his ears. “You still hungry? I’ll give you more in a little bit, have to make sure that settles okay first.” You gently rubbed your thumb over his furry forehead and between his eyes in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes closed with a big sigh. 
You weren’t sure exactly how long you sat there, curiously blank, stroking this dog. Long enough that your food had gone cold. Finally, you gave up on it and put a bit more into the dog’s bowl before putting the rest away for another day. 
Your bedtime routine was barely disturbed by the dog, and he once again hopped up onto your bed. This time, you didn’t protest, just let him get comfortable. 
And when his head landed on your thigh, his warmth stretched out next to your legs, you just sighed softly and closed your eyes. 
You weren’t sure if you were surprised or not when you woke to an empty bed and chilly morning air. 
It took a while to drag yourself through your routine, getting ready for work by rote, brain definitely not engaged yet. Why bother?
But you still stopped, blinking owlishly at the sight of the dog sitting in the middle of the kitchen, tail wagging, jaws parted in a doggy grin.
“Oh. You’re still here.” You felt dumb saying it out loud, admitting to what you’d assumed. That he was gone again. And then you felt even more stupid because he couldn’t reply and didn’t even know what you’d said. “Well. I guess you’ll want breakfast, then.”
You reheated the leftovers from last night for him and set them down before getting your own things ready. You still had a few minutes before you had to leave for work, which you spent pondering what to do with the dog.
You couldn’t leave him locked inside. It wasn’t fair to him, and you didn’t want to come home to a ruined house. 
He solved your dilemma by walking to the front door and sitting calmly, looking back at you. You huffed out something close to a laugh.
“Well, I guess you know your way home by now,” you agreed, gathering up your things and opening the front door for him. “Be careful, there are always idiots on the road.” 
The dog boofed at you once before trotting off again, tail held high. 
You got in your car and went to work. 
Soap wasn’t an idiot. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he should put you out of his mind and move on, because you didn’t know and couldn’t know about his nature. 
But something about you just… pulled at him. Maybe it was how uncomplicated things were with you. Maybe it was the way you smiled for him. Maybe it was that he could help you feel better.
Maybe it was that his wolf loved the way you smelled and wanted to just bury himself in your blankets.
Whatever it was, Soap ended up sneaking away to you just about every chance he got. Any time the team had downtime, he was off. He couldn’t go during the full moon, because the pack always ran that night together, but he still managed to make time to go visit you. 
“If you keep running off, Cap’s gonna follow you one day,” Gaz said as he dropped down next to Soap. 
Soap huffed. “He hasn’t yet,” he pointed out, mostly just to be contrary.
“Ghost will, then.”
Soap had no retaliation for that because LT absolutely would. Actually, he was a little surprised that Ghost hadn’t already. 
“Might be better to just come clean about wherever it is you run off to,” Gaz continued, slanting a look at the Scot even as he pushed food around his plate. 
Soap huffed. Gaz was… not exactly wrong. But it still wasn’t a good idea. Not even close. He needed to figure out how to tell Price without the captain flipping. 
“Don’t suppose you’re offering t’ help,” he grumbled, side-eyeing the other sergeant. 
Gaz perked up a little, taking a moment to think as he chewed. “Might be,” he mumbled. “For an interesting enough reason.”
This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea. 
But Gaz was right - this was going to blow up in his face sooner or later. He could mitigate the damage with a bit of help and a fair bit of luck. 
“Swear you won’t tell.” Soap held his gaze, drawing himself up a little straighter. 
Gaz looked briefly taken aback before he nodded, slow and serious. “I swear.”
Soap nodded, took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. (Well. Not the beginning, because he still refused to admit that he’d been… temporarily discombobulated.) 
After the expected razzing (and only a bit of shoving), Gaz stood to clear his place, Soap scrambling a little after him. A quick look around and the two went back to Gaz’s bunk to talk quietly. 
“Right,” Gaz muttered, gaze darting around as he plotted. “I want to meet her.”
Soap puffed up, eyes narrowing. “Why?” 
“To see what she’s like for myself.” Gaz shoved him a bit with a little huff. “No offense, mate, but you’re a bit smitten.” 
Soap opened his mouth to protest… and then shut it again. Because. Well. He couldn’t, in fact, protest that. He swallowed.
“This is not a good idea,” Gaz muttered. “Got a couple days off coming up, yeah?”
“Aye,” Soap agreed slowly.
“We’ll both go.”
Soap blinked at that. “Shifted?”
“Well, you said she takes you in, thinks you’re a dog.” Gaz shrugged. “Probably won’t think any different of me.”
This was truly a terrible idea. Part of Soap rebelled at the idea for no good reason, too - you were his, and he didn’t want to share you. But he’d have to. Especially if he ever wanted more with you than the stolen moments as a wolf. 
“Right.” Soap breathed in deep. “We’ll try it.”
You almost didn’t even bother to get out of bed. But it was after noon, and you needed to drink something at least. Even if the very thought of food made you nauseous. So you shoved yourself out of bed, hands shaking only a little as you put the kettle on. 
A soft woof at the back door nearly made you drop your mug, and you fumbled for a few moments before you saved it and put it on the counter instead. 
There was a dog at your door. No, scratch that. The dog was at your door. With a friend. 
“What the fuck.” You stared at the two dogs, blinking stupidly. The second dog was just as big, medium gray with the classic black saddle and tail tip. His snout was black too. Almost like a German shepherd, but in gray instead of tan. 
Your dog, the red and white one, woofed again, tail wagging. Almost on autopilot, you opened the door for him. 
“What the fuck,” you said again, watching as the second dog came in too, just as easy and confident as your dog. “Damn I wish you could talk. Is this your buddy? Do you live together? Have you both escaped the same yard? Or did you steal someone else’s dog?” You rubbed a hand over your eyes.
The kettle started whistling, and you trudged over to it to pour hot water for tea. Your dog kept pace with you, sniffing your legs and then your belly and whining softly at you. 
“I dunno what you want,” you said, one hand drifting down to his head, rubbing a soft ear between your fingers. “It’s not dinner time. …I think.” You frowned, squinting at your phone. “No. Too early.”
The other dog kept a little more distance but did sniff your hand and accepted a couple gentle head pats. Tea helped you feel more steady, and your dog hopped up on the couch to curl up next to you. 
“You can relax,” you told the other dog quietly, eyelids already drooping again. “You’re safe here. I’ll make dinner for you later.” 
The other dog laid down on the floor a couple feet from the two of you, head resting on his paws, eyes open and trained on you. You didn’t take it personally, just huffing a soft laugh and closing your eyes the rest of the way. 
“It’s too bad you have to go,” you muttered, hand resting on your dog’s head, which was pillowed on your thigh. “Nice to have some company.” 
Your dog sighed, warm even through your clothes, and wiggled even closer to you. An afternoon nap was definitely in order today. 
You woke to the sound of grumbling. Not quite a growl but not exactly a happy sound either. You blinked a few times, lifting your head (ow) to try to figure out what was going on.
Your dog was perched over you, head low, grumbling a little at the other dog. Who huffed right back at him, ears flicking forward and back. 
“No fighting,” you mumbled, almost reflexively. “Or take it outside or something.” 
Both dogs paused, looking at you, and your dog sniffed your face before licking your nose. You blew out a breath that was almost a laugh. 
“C’mon, get off. I’ll cook.” You pushed the dog, more or less gently, until he hopped off the couch. 
Cooking didn’t make you nauseous, at least. Even if you still had very little interest in eating anything. 
The two dogs seemed to have given up on whatever spat woke you up, for which you were grateful. Your house was not at all dog proofed, and you were amazed nothing had been broken yet. 
You forced yourself to shower, because you needed to and it was easier to motivate yourself to do something with the dog around. Then you sat up for a little while reading, your dog curled up on your bed with his head resting on your stomach, the other dog laying on the floor near the foot of the bed.
You were honestly surprised when you woke up and they were both still there, two heads popping up as soon as you sat up. 
You finally felt better this morning. You’d slept better, too. You actually ate after you cooked and spent a bit of time outside, watching the two tear around the yard chasing each other. 
But when your dog stopped next to you just as the sun began to sink, you knew.
“Time to go back home?” you asked him, smoothing down his fur from his playtime. He whined softly, wiggling closer to you and resting his head on your knee to look up at you with those big blue puppy eyes. “Well. You be careful.” You gently smoothed your fingers over the top of his head, smiling a little even though it hurt. “I don’t wanna hear about any dogs getting run over, okay?” 
He huffed out through his nose, his eyes closing as he leaned his weight into your legs. You chuckled, patting his head before removing your hand entirely.
“Okay. Go on, before it gets dark.” 
He looked up at you, almost pleading, before a soft bark from the other dog got his attention. His ears half-lowered, and he licked your hand once before he backed off and then darted off to join his friend. 
The two of them were gone from your sight in moments.
You didn’t move until the cold forced you to go back inside. 
“You,” Gaz started once they were both back in human skin, “are so fucked.” 
Soap slumped. “Donnae remind me,” he groaned. 
“So fucked,” Gaz continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Pretty sure your wolf has all but actually claimed her.”
Soap rubbed a hand over his face, because Gaz wasn’t wrong. But you had no idea he was a shifter, and he couldn’t tell you without Price’s permission. Which meant he also couldn’t pursue anything with you until you knew. It was… a situation. Definitely. 
“Lucky for you, I have an idea.”
Soap perked up at that, hopeful. “Aye?”
Gaz had already grabbed his phone, typing quickly. “We can’t tell her,” he said, gaze focused on his phone. “But we can give her a nudge in the right direction.”
Soap leaned over, trying to see what Gaz was doing. “Gaz,” he said slowly, confused. “Why are ye texting yer mum?” 
“Trust me.” Gaz flashed him a grin that was mostly teeth. “She had to woo Dad. She can help.” 
This was probably a terrible idea. But. It was better than anything he’d come up with. So Soap shrugged, letting it happen. 
“Now, for the other part of this plan.” Gaz grinned as he dug through Soap’s things, ignoring the Scot’s grumbling, until he found the collar. (Soap had drawn the short stick and had been stuck for an op. The collar had been to make him look less threatening. Fortunately for everyone involved, it had been a short op.) 
“No.” Soap crossed his arms over his chest, glowering.
“Just wait,” Gaz soothed, grinning like the looney he clearly was. “I have a plan.” 
Soap groaned. This was going to end terribly. For him.
There was a box on your front porch. You blinked at it, confused. You hadn’t ordered anything. And yet your name was written on top of the box, with no shipping address or return address. 
You brought the box inside. Foolish, maybe, but it was too cold outside to stand out there and go through the box. 
A handful of books filled the box most of the way, with a letter on top. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you opened the letter first.
Keep an open mind while you read the books. There’s some very good information here. Things will make sense sooner or later.
It was unsigned, of course. You huffed. If this was a prank, it was pretty elaborate. 
So you pulled out the books, examining them one at a time. The first one looked hand-written, with no information on the title page. The second book was labeled, simply, Etiquette. The other two books were no better, giving you very little information.
It took a good five pages for you to figure out the handwritten book was about werewolves. Or wolf-shifters? The terminology became confusing very quickly. 
It felt like a prank.  You were sure someone was going to pop up and prank you, maybe record your reaction. Who, you didn’t know, but still. The feeling persisted.
Because this? This was crazy. This was an entire secret society, a subset of the population that lived an entire secret life. It was impossible.
And yet you kept reading.
But you forced yourself to stop and walk away after you finished that book, having barely moved. You needed to eat. You needed to drink something. You needed a damn reality check. 
Even so… Even so, you came back to the books after a meal and a walk. The little pile taunted you until you swore and swiped up the next book. 
Which was all on shifter-people etiquette. Apparently. How they interacted with each other, how they interacted with humans. 
Even if this did turn out to be a prank of some kind, it was an incredibly elaborate one. 
One you couldn’t get out of your head. 
It took a few days to read through all the books in between work, but you did. And then you went back and took a few notes, because some things were just… too interesting. Too unique. 
You did keep the books in your bedroom. Not that you had a lot of company (or any), but it felt… wrong. To leave them out on display. So you hid them away. 
You couldn’t explain why, but it felt like the right thing to do. 
Now if only you could figure out why. 
It was another three weeks until the dog came back, once again arriving at your house at almost the same time you did. He looked the same as always, tail wagging, jaws parted in a canine grin.
Except he was wearing a collar.
“Oh so your person does have a collar for you,” you grumbled, opening the front door for him. “Look at that, it’s practically a miracle.” 
He boofed softly at you before running around to sniff everything, clearly trying to get caught up on whatever he’d missed. Which was… not much. A spill of take-out one night, a few naps on the couch, and late dinners after work. 
Typical for you.
“Alright, c’mere pup.” You tapped your thigh, pulling your phone out. “Let me call your person to come get you.”
The dog drooped a little but obediently walked back to you, sitting patiently while you dialed the number you found on his tag. “Soap,” you mumbled, examining the tag. “Who the hell names their dog Soap?” 
“Yes?” The man who answered the phone sounded brusque, borderline rude. You blinked, caught off guard.
“Um, hi. I have your dog? He’s been wandering over to my place recently and, um, I figured you might want to come get him?” Your eyes slammed shut. You hadn’t meant to make that a question. Really. Your people skills were seriously awful. 
There was silence, then a sigh. “Soap?” he asked, dry with a hint of humor.
“Yeah.” You looked down at the dog, absently petting the top of his head.
“Right. I’ll be there soon. What’s the address?”
You hesitated for a moment before rattling it off. Well. He probably wasn’t secretly an axe murderer with such a sweet dog. 
There was a soft grunt as he confirmed the address. “It’ll be about an hour,” he said. And hung up.
“Well,” you muttered, looking down at your phone, “rude.” 
Soap whined at you softly, pawing at you gently until you resumed petting him. 
“Guess we’ve got an hour, buddy.” You stretched and stepped around Soap into the kitchen. “I need food or I’m gonna be hangry when your person gets here, and nobody wants that.” You slanted a look at him. “I assume you want food?” 
Soap’s tail started wagging, even though he sat patiently in his normal spot out of the way.
“Yeah, okay.” You huffed a little laugh and started pulling out ingredients. “You were gone for a while, buddy. I was worried about you.” You didn’t expect any kind of reaction from the dog.
Which is why you startled when he pressed his nose to your thigh with another soft whine. You looked down to find those big blue eyes focused on you, ears half-down, tail wagging slowly. 
“Aw, I’m not mad at you,” you murmured, leaning over a bit to scratch under his chin. “You’re okay, cutie.”
His tail thumped faster against the ground, and you had to spend a minute petting him before you could wash your hands and continue with dinner prep. 
Somehow, the knock on your door still caught you off-guard, enough that your fork clattered back to your dish. You looked at Soap, who looked back at you, ears up. Then you nodded once and stood, heading to the door. 
You opened the door and blinked up at the man on the other side. Muttonchops, floppy hat, stern-set mouth. Big. Broad. 
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
“You called about Soap,” he said, voice brusque, though his tone gentled a little. He also didn’t make a move towards you, which helped a bit. 
“I did.” You pulled the door open further, turning to call Soap. Only to find him already right behind you. “Here he is.”
“You’re in trouble,” he said, gaze focused on Soap. “Come on.” 
But Soap took two steps forward until he could press against your legs, and stopped there. Leaning a good bit of his weight onto you. 
The man blinked once, one eyebrow raising as he looked between you and the dog slowly, something almost calculating in his gaze. 
“What are you doing?” you asked Soap, exasperated. “This is your person, you’re supposed to go home with him. Silly pup.” 
“He’s stubborn when he gets an idea in his head.” The man planted his hands on his hips, looking down at Soap. “How long has he been runnin’ up here?” 
“Oh, a few months.” Something about his tone made you nervous, made you shift your weight. But with Soap still leaning against you, the move ended up almost sending you falling over, and only a quick grab of the doorframe saved you any dignity at all. 
The man sighed, shaking his head briefly. “Stubborn,” he muttered again. “Should get Simon out here.”
Curiosity burned at you, but you kept your mouth shut. Instead you nudged Soap, trying to get him to leave your side. 
“Go on,” you encouraged him. “Don’t you wanna go home?” 
The man’s eyes sharpened suddenly. “What did you say?”
You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Don’t you wanna go home?” You repeated, only a little squeaky. 
Soap pressed harder into your legs, shoving his head under your free hand. And then the man sighed noisily. 
“Right,” he grunted. “Can I come in?” 
“Why?” You stiffened, hand gripping the doorframe tighter. 
“We need to have a conversation and I’d rather not do it out the door.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. This was weird. This was definitely weird. You looked down at Soap, who was still pressed up against you, and back to the man. A little lightbulb went off finally.
“Is this about those books?”
“Books?” He frowned and then shook his head. “We should discuss this inside.” 
A little reluctantly, you let him inside. Soap stayed right next to you, going so far as to hop up onto the couch next to you. 
“Right,” the man muttered, rubbing a hand briefly over his chin. “What books are you talking about?” 
“I got these books, they were in a box on my porch. I thought it was a hoax at first, but…” You stood and jogged back to your room, grabbing the first book, the handwritten one. “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”
He took the book and flipped through the first few pages before he lifted his gaze to Soap. “Did you have something to do with this?” 
Soap huffed and rested his head across your lap as soon as you sat down again. 
That, more than anything, solidified things in your mind. Soap wasn’t just a dog. Soap was a shifter, of some kind. And undoubtedly this other person was as well. 
“Huh.” You looked down at Soap, examining him more carefully. “Guess that’s why you kept finding your way back here, even when you shouldn’t have been able to.” 
He just blinked up at you, wiggling a little closer and pushing his nose under your hand. 
“What do you know?”
You pulled your gaze back to the man across from you, chewing on your lip for a moment. “Honestly? Just what’s in the books. And like I said, I thought they were a hoax at first. I’m still…” You trailed off, not sure exactly how to express what you were feeling. 
He nodded, looking pensively between you and Soap. “Normally, we don’t tell others.” He paused to let that sink in, and you grimaced. “But this one found a way around that.” 
Soap’s tail thumped against the couch. Clearly, he was totally unrepentant. 
“So.” The man leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs. “Let’s start from the beginning.” 
It took hours to cover it all. Price, as you finally learned his name, was more or less patient with you. Less so with Soap. 
The two finally left, with promises to bring you to base tomorrow. (Because, that’s right, Soap was apparently military, something you never would have guessed. And apparently Soap deciding you were his person got you some benefits? Honestly you were very unsure about all of this but Soap had given you such big imploring eyes that you’d caved.) 
You would have expected that you’d be up for hours longer, pacing, working through everything in your head. Honestly, though, you just had energy for a shower, and then collapsed into bed and slept hard. Clearly, you already had too much on your mind. 
You were still scrambling when the knock came at your door in the morning. “Hang on!” you shouted, hopping on one foot to shove your other shoe on, grabbing your purse and making sure you had everything you needed. 
Not that you really knew what you’d need, but. You had the basics, at least. 
Finally, you yanked the door open to an amused Price standing on your doorstep. Thankfully, he didn’t comment, just raised an eyebrow at you.
The drive was silent. Price kept his gaze on the road, sparing you only the occasional glance. For your part, you were too nervous to try talking. 
When Price turned down a long drive to a fenced area, you swallowed hard. 
“Nervous?” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.
“A bit,” you admitted, knee bouncing so at least you had some kind of outlet for your nerves. 
“Relax.” He slanted a look at you as he slowed near the gate guard. “You’ll be fine.” 
You swallowed again, knee bouncing as the guard lifted the gate and let the two of you through. Price continued down the road and pulled into a parking spot, cutting the engine.
You’d known, sort of, that this base was here. People talked about it - that base out of town. Sometimes military men came through to the store or the bar, although you weren’t the closest town to the base. 
But being here was something else entirely. You had no idea it was so big - lots of land, all enclosed. Multiple buildings spread out around the area, and you could see a group of runners off in the distance. 
“This way,” Price grunted, jerking you from your thoughts. You turned and hurried to follow him inside, fingers twisting around each other, nearly jogging to keep up with his longer strides. He stopped in front of a door, pushing it open and stepping inside. A little more slowly, you followed. 
Another man was standing in the middle of the room, mohawk mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, shoulders tense. You almost asked… but you met his gaze, eyes wide. 
“Oh.” You couldn’t help but smile, still holding his gaze, those beautiful blue eyes fixed on you. “Your eyes really don’t change at all, do they?” 
“Nah.” He smiled slowly, taking a step closer to you. 
“Still want me to call you Soap?” You smiled, tipping your chin. 
“Or Johnny.” His teeth flashed in a grin. “Ye can call me anythin’ ye want, lovely.”
You warmed at the easy affection, but you didn’t drop his gaze. “Can I…?” You lifted one hand slowly, a little cautious. 
Apparently that was all he needed, though, because he stepped straight into your space and wrapped himself around you. You blinked and then snorted, your hand settling at the back of his head to rub against the hairs there. 
“Personal space optional?” you teased, though you made absolutely no move away from him.
“What’s yours is mine,” he quipped, squeezing you affectionately. 
“Sergeant.” Price sounded exasperated, and you pulled back enough to peek at him, suddenly worried again. 
“This is why he didn’t let me drive to get you,” Soap said, unrepentant, shifting his grip on you enough to smooth one hand up and down your back. “Didnae think ah’d come back.”
“No,” Price said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come back until tomorrow.” 
You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you at that, and you relaxed again. “So, what now?”
Price huffed something akin to a laugh. “You get to meet the other two, then we do some paperwork.” 
“Speakin’ of.” Soap nodded to the door, grinning. Price heaved a sigh but walked over and pulled the door open. 
“Gaz.” He stepped aside to let the other young man in, and you blinked at him. He gave you a quick smile and a little wave, though he gave you a bit of space. Something about him seemed… familiar. 
“Did you come with Johnny one day?” You blinked, putting the pieces together. He kept the same bit of distance the other dog had, the same kind of reserved politeness. 
Gaz blinked twice, lips parting in surprise. “How’d you guess?”
“I mean, it’s not that big of a leap.” You shrugged, ignoring Soap chuckling. 
“We’ll talk about that later,” Price grumbled, shooting Gaz a look. Whoops. 
Another man slipped into the room, almost as big as Price, wearing a skull mask. You blinked, a little intimidated. 
“LT is a big softie,” Soap whispered in your ear, swaying the two of you side to side just a little. 
“Johnny.” The big one sounded vaguely amused but also disapproving. 
“This is Ghost,” Price said, since clearly he was the only one in the room with manners. 
You twisted in Soap’s arms to look at him, lifting your hand in a little wave. You almost felt awkward with Soap still hanging off of you, but you were also comfortable. Sure, he wasn’t a dog, but still. This felt normal. 
“Couldn’t keep your mouth shut, eh, Johnny?” Ghost sounded more amused than anything, though. 
“I only told Gaz,” Soap defended, squeezing you a little tighter. 
“Yes, about that.” Price raised one eyebrow at Gaz. Who immediately buckled and spilled the whole plot - the two of them going to visit you, and then Gaz writing his mum. 
“So those books were from your mum?” You’d all settled into chairs or the couch. (You’d had to swat Soap a few times when he tried to pull you down to sit in his lap.) 
“Must be.” He shrugged. “You still have ‘em, yeah?”
“Of course, they’re at home. I’ll bring them next time.” 
He shrugged. “No rush. We’ve got time.”
And you did, you realized with a blink. With Soap crowded up against your side, the other three ranged around the room, you realized you had plenty of time. Now that you weren’t just waiting on a surprise visit from a dog. You smiled to yourself and leaned into Soap. 
Yeah. You could get used to this. 
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