#i will get through them soon i promise!!!

[toadtoru]

MOVIE NIGHT

pairing: suguru geto x fem! reader contents: smut, mutual masturbation, getting interrupted (not caught), cockwarming, pet names (pretty girl, my girl, baby), he calls you slut once wordcount: 1.7k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Your best friend, Suguru, who tries to convince you to let him fuck you while Shoko and Satoru are out getting snacks. You’re sitting on the other end of the couch, frowning at him, while Suguru merely smiles at you, urging you to come sit in his lap. 

He looks so fucking good it’s almost infuriating. Half of his hair up, the other falling down his shoulders, wearing just sweatpants and a black t-shirt. 

“Sugu, they’re gonna be back soon, we can’t,” you say, trying to send him a stern look. Suguru sighs and adjusts himself on the sofa, spreading his legs and allowing you to see the growing bulge in his sweats. He’s big already, and he’s not even fully erect. The sight makes your face grow hot, and Suguru knows you’re flustered but he just chuckles.

“C’mon, pretty,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “Come sit,”

You swallow nervously, but nevertheless, you crawl towards where he’s sitting on the sofa. Once you’re close enough, he grabs your forearms and pulls you into his lap, directly onto his length. He ignores your squeak of surprise as his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your sides. 

You’re still pouting. Despite the fact that you came to him willingly, you can’t help but feel like you’ve been roped into this. Suguru hums in satisfaction, and a hand comes up to stroke your cheek. 

“There’s my girl,” he says, leaning in and kissing the corner of your lips. 

My girl. 

His words make heat pool in your belly, and you melt slightly, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands squeeze your tit through your shirt, the other toys with the hem of your sleeping shorts. 

In Suguru’s opinion, you look like a perfect little gift for him. He’s been plotting this ever since you came down to the living room in that dangerously small pyjama, nipples poking through the fabric and shorts hugging your ass just right. He noticed Shoko and Satoru eyeing you as well. Satoru’s face grew positively flushed, and Shoko’s lips curled into a smile. Getting them to leave to get snacks wasn't very easy. 

But now you’re here. In his lap. Alone. 

And Suguru just wants to push those tiny shorts to the side and stretch you out on his cock till the only thing on your mind is his name. 

“We don’t have enough time,” you mumble, trying to keep up some resemblance of resistance. Suguru hums, eyes dropping down to your crotch as he begins to rub circles right over your clit. Your breath hitches, and your hands on his shoulders tighten their grip.

With his other hand he pulls up your shirt, watching your tits spill out. He cups one with his free hand, rolling his thumb over your nipple, while he leans down and sucks on the other.

“Suguru,”

The way you say his name is more of a moan than a warning. Your hips grind down on his thumb, chasing friction, and Suguru doesn’t even try to fight the smile making its way onto his face as he pulls back to watch your reactions. 

“We can be fast,” he says. You gasp when he pulls the crotch of your shorts to the side and runs his fingers through your folds. “You’ll be good for me, right?” he asks, and you nod, any coherent thoughts already turning blurry. 

“Say it,” Suguru says, and you pout when his fingers deftly avoid your clit, instead merely stroking you. 

“I’ll be good, Suguru. I promise,” you reply, and Suguru grins. His cock is hard and leaking in his boxers now, aching for attention. You eye the bulge and reach down to stroke him through his sweats. Suguru rewards you with a thumb on your clit, and begins rubbing methodic circles into the sensitive bud. You close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder as you grind into his touch. 

Suguru decides to add a finger, pushing in and feeling your walls constrict around him. You let out a shaky breath before slipping your hand into his boxers and freeing his cock. You eye his length and a small whine leaves you at the sight. Suguru is thick. So thick and so big that the thought of having him inside you makes your cunt gush around Suguru’s hand. His tip is red and flushed, and pearly drops of precum collect around his head. 

You hesitate for a second, and Suguru notices. He kisses the crown of your head before gripping your hair with his free hand and pulling your head back to look at him. You gasp, and Suguru chuckles before giving you a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Spit on it,” he says, and you do immediately. Suguru hums, rewarding you with another finger, and your hips stutter against his hands. His fingers are so long and thick, able to stretch you out much better than your own. 

You wrap a hand around his length, pumping him and mixing precum with spit, making the action smoother. Suguru groans and throws his head back as you use both hands to stroke him off. His ministrations on your cunt momentarily stop, and you watch his face contort in bliss before beginning to move your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. 

Suguru’s brows knit together at the sight. Do you even know how sinful you look? What your actions do to him? Your eyes are lidded, glazed over as you pout at him, your expression begging him to ruin you. Your hands on his cock are clumsy, uncoordinated, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. You squeeze his base, and Suguru has to stop himself from coming early.

You’re practically sin incarnate. 

“Look at you,” his voice is a mix of lust and disbelief. His eyes fall to where your hips are swirling in circles on his fingers. “You were so hesitant a second ago. What were your words? We can’t, Sugu,” his tone is teasing.

“Now you’re fucking yourself on my fingers like a slut.”

You whine, and Suguru decides to add another finger for good measure. The stretch burns a little and sparks fly through your body, making your toes curl. At this point you’re far too fucked out to answer his mocking words. 

“I haven’t even put my cock inside you, and you’re already cockdrunk.”

“Shut up.” Your retort comes out weak. You’ll never admit it, but you love it when Suguru is mean to you. It makes slick pool in your panties every time, this time being no exception as your cunt gushes, coating Suguru’s hand and fingers. You’re close.

So close. 

Suguru knows too. His lips curl into a smile, and he thrusts into your hand, hoping to reach his orgasm at the same time as you. You pant and lean in to kiss him. 

“I want to come,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over his.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You wanna come just from my fingers? Make a mess?” 

You glare at him, though Suguru hardly feels threatened. Your hands stroke his cock more diligently before one comes down to fondle his balls, and you run your thumb over his sensitive tip with the other. Suguru’s hips stutter, and his thigh twitches. He can practically taste his orgasm, and he can tell you're tethering on the edge too by the way your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“We’re back!”

You hear the front door open and Satoru’s sing-song voice as he rambles excitedly about the candy he chose. You fly away from Suguru’s lap, immediately tugging his cock into his boxers again, before jumping off his fingers and settling beside him. You adjust your clothes, pulling down your top and putting a blanket over you. 

Suguru blinks. He looks down at his now painful erection before adjusting himself, so it’s harder to tell. He silently thanks himself for wearing black sweats, hiding the wet patch from where you sat just moments ago. 

He looks up at you. You look dishevelled if anything, but you hide it well. His fingers are still covered in your slick, and he keeps eye contact with you as he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. You gape and shift uncomfortably. He can tell you’re rubbing your thighs together, trying to soothe the ache that you’re no doubt feeling. 

Satoru walks into the living room, holding bags and more bags of sweets. Shoko strolls behind him. 

“I tried to stop him, but it was useless,” she says, motioning to the amount of candy in Satoru’s arms. You giggle, slightly more high-pitched than normal. 

“What movie are we watching?” Shoko asks, plopping down beside you. Satoru grabs the remote and starts talking about a movie he’s been wanting to watch. Suguru pulls at your blanket. You glare at him and Suguru pouts. 

“I’m cold,”

“Find your own blanket.”

“But you have one right there.” 

“There’s not enough for both of us!” You huff, and Suguru sighs, pretending to think. 

“Ah, I have a solution,” he says, promptly grabbing you and pulling you into his lap with your back against his chest. You squeal as Suguru wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you there, while the other adjusts the blanket to cover you. 

Neither Shoko nor Satoru bats an eye, instead arguing about the movie—Shoko thinks Satoru’s pick is stupid and Satoru thinks it’s perfect—leaving you at Suguru’s mercy. You can feel him throbbing against your ass as he pulls out his cock again and slips your pj to the side. You tense, but ease up when Suguru presses a kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax,” he murmurs. “We’ll just sit like this,” he presses his cockhead against your cunt and pushes in slowly.

“You promised you’d be a good girl right?” You try to keep your face neutral, thankful that neither of your two friends is paying attention.

“Yeah,” you breathe, digging your nails into his arm around your waist. Soon, he’s buried to the hilt. You’re stuffed—stretched obscenely—pussy throbbing and leaking around his pulsing cock. 

Suguru kisses the crown of your head.

“There you go, baby,”

It takes everything in you to relax and rest your head on Suguru. Suguru wraps both arms around you, one slipping under your shirt to squeeze your tit before settling around your waist again. Satoru turns off the lights and starts the movie, all four pairs of eyes settling on the TV screen. 

You take a breath. It’s just two hours. Two hours sat on Suguru’s dizzyingly big cock. You can handle that.

Yeah.

For sure. 

thank you for reading!

🏷️ tags: @kisstoru @hiraethwrote @interconnectedmatrix @s-vila @gojouology

@kaskc @dearest-yeosang @sebastianlover

masterlist | dividers by me

[vivwritesfics]

some kind of max fluff?🥺

two gasps rang out, and then the Monaco apartment was silent. two pairs of wide, blue eyes stared up at him, little hands covering their ears.

shit, max thought as he stared down at his kids. "i didn't mean it," he said quickly, stepping towards his children. "i didn't mean it."

his daughter, the oldest of his two children, was the first to pull her hands away from her ears. "you did a swear, daddy," she said, her lip wobbling and eyes beginning to water.

see, if her mother was there, she would have seen right through it, would have seen exactly what she was trying to do. but she had her dad wrapped around her little finger, and so did her brother.

he pulled his hands away from his ears and stared at his father. "yeah, daddy, you did a swear,"

"mummy never swears around us," his daughter said, sniffling. "she says it's a bad word said by bad people."

max's little boy, his mini me (in looks only. his daughter was his true mini me when it came to her personality. she was a future world champion where his son had no interest in racing), looked at his sister. "is daddy a bad person?"

there was nothing worse than your kids thinking you're a bad person. max felt the sweat break out on his forehead as he looked around for something to fix it. his eyes focused on the basket his wife kept on top of the fridge. the basket full of chocolate.

the kids knew the basket was there, they just couldn't get to it. "you guys have to promise not to repeat that word," he said as he reached up and grabbed the basket.

"we promise, daddy," his daughter said as she took the whole basket from his hands. max had meant for them to just have one chocolate each, but now they had the whole basket.

***

"they're passed out on the couch."

max hadn't realised his wife had come home. he spun in his chair to look at her. as soon as he was facing her, she sat herself in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "how about we get them into bed and..." she wiggled her eyebrows.

max let his forehead fall against her own. "I fucked up," he mumbled, and she pulled away from him.

"what did you do, maxie?" she asked and moved her hands through his hair.

he sucked in a breath and stared at her, his blue eyes pulling her in. she couldn't look away if she tried, but she didn't want to. "i swore in front of them," he admitted. "had to bribe them with the chocolate from the top of the fridge to not repeat it."

he couldn't quite believe it when she started laughing. "max, do you know how often i swear in front of them?" she asked. "they know if they repeat it they're in for an ass whooping." her hands moved through his hair. "they played you."

"shit," max mumbled. "we've got some smart kids. wanna make another?"

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[caramelkoo]

honeysuckle

boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut

summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.

warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.

a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo

"Oh yeah baby, just like that"

"You fuck me so good"

'Take my cock like a good slut you are"

Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.

Step 1 : take an everything shower

Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background

Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.

Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.

Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.

You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.

Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.

Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.

Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.

If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?

After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.

As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".

Spoilsport, your ass.

Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.

The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.

When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.

You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"

When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.

"What's with the song, sweetheart?"

"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"

After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.

You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"

"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.

"What was that?"

"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.

"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.

Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"

Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.

"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.

Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"

Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.

"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"

Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.

Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.

Him.

Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.

When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?

With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.

Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?

"So, how was the business trip?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"

You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.

"Jungkook"

"Come here"

"Wh-"

He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'

You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.

Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.

His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.

"How long did you say they were going at it?"

You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"

He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.

"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"

Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?

"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"

The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.

"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.

She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.

His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.

"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"

The sound that leaves her is filled with need.

"Jungkook, baby please."

He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.

Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.

His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.

Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.

"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.

His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.

Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"

Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.

She screams.

"That's my girl"

He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.

"You want it faster, sweetheart?"

"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"

Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.

"Oh my fucking god"

"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"

He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.

She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.

When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.

"Aghh"

It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.

When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"

Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"

"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.

At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.

He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"

He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.

"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.

"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.

Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.

"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.

"I love you"

"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.

Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.

Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.

Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.

He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.

The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.

Thrust Thrust Thrust

As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.

"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"

Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.

He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.

A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"

"That was…" you bite your lip.

"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.

his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"

"One more?"

"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"

He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.

Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.

"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,

"So warm"

Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.

His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.

So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.

Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"

When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.

He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"

Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"

So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.

Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.

"I fucking love this body of yours"

She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.

Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.

"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"

He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.

He hopes.

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢-𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ☠︎ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦-𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 | a JJK series

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: another year, another kinktober for the blog; everyone say thank you to @blkkizzat for making me do this before i get off this platform bc i promise you i was ready to throw it in the trash, LMAO !! I can only hope that I can post everything on time...anyway, happy October, everybody!

2023 kinktober list ⋮ masterlists ⋮ playlist

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚…𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆???

All the material below contains 18+ content, so minors do not interact. Changes + added pieces will be updated; look through my RBs to see what was changed or added. Contents of the fanfics/pieces are specified in their respective posts.

☠︎ = ficlet/thirst/scenario (Tues) | ♱ = fics (Thurs)

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 1 :

☠︎ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 . . . ft. bully! Gojo ⋮ corruption kink

♱ 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 & 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 | s. gojō + k. nanami + h. higuruma

Two demon hunters and a witch unite to take down a demon terrorizing the locals — sounds easy enough until the demon pulls something up his sleeve and drags you three in for a night you’ll never forget…!

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 2 :

☠︎ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 & 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 . . . ft. true form! Sukuna ⋮ cannabilism/ blood kink

♱ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | s. ryōmen

The average child is bound to have some imaginary friend sometime in their life. However, as far as you can tell, you’re not supposed to actually see their “friend” — let alone be able to fuck them!

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 3 :

☠︎ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐧' 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 . . . ft. werewolf! Nanami ⋮ breeding kink + knotting

extra!! to be announced soon...

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 4 :

☠︎ 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬' 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 . . . ft. sirens! Shoko + Utahime + Yuki ⋮ monster-fucking + foursome

♱ 𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧' 𝐖𝐡𝐨, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞? | c. kamo

Having a phantom in your apartment sounds pretty scary…! But what happens when you finally catch that unexpectedly cute ghost creeping around and frightening you? And…how do you plan on punishing the little scrub?

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 5 :

☠︎ 𝐒𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 & 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . . . ft. ex-husband! Toji ⋮ cockwarming

♱ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥[𝐞𝐫] !! | s. gojō + s. getō

Ending the month with tradition: pulling up all the best scary movies to watch and hanging with your two best friends! But it's safe to say that the thing poking behind your back isn't a knife…according to Gojo.

𝑾𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃!!

Would you wish to be tagged? Please lmk in the replies (under my message) or in my inbox!

Accepting the first 50 ppl !!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ These tales have been transcribed and written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.

[stevie-petey]

episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car. 

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car. 

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you. 

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him. 

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears. 

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at. 

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father. 

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure. 

Over and over again. 

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale. 

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material. 

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life. 

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him. 

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share. 

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him. 

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her. 

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night. 

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight. 

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve. 

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile. 

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions. 

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately. 

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night. 

It’s just you and Steve, now. 

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat. 

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car. 

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal. 

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight. 

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens. 

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question. 

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–” 

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more. 

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck. 

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face. 

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does. 

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame. 

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home. 

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do. 

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him. 

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave. 

– 

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner. 

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been. 

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left. 

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York. 

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table. 

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.” 

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve. 

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going. 

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened. 

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away. 

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again. 

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder. 

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all. 

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information. 

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked. 

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen. 

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen. 

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

– 

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food. 

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse. 

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing. 

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind. 

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.” 

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!” 

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you. 

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn’t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him. 

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more. 

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that. 

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him. 

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie. 

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse. 

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion. 

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. “That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?” 

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth. 

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad. 

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!” 

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked. 

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive. 

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch. 

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone. 

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” 

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show. 

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully. 

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies. 

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds. 

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches. 

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing. 

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground. 

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops. 

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan. 

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing. 

– 

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go. 

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you. 

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room. 

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy. 

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones. 

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh. 

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you. 

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay. 

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait. 

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.” 

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. 

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams. 

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into. 

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do. 

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly. 

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped. 

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!” 

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches. 

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly. 

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life. 

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes. 

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

– 

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here. 

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation. 

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door. 

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?” 

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night. 

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.” 

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly. 

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?” 

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas. 

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?” 

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.” 

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return. 

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office. 

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold. 

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology. 

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt. 

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable. 

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–” 

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes. 

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance. 

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses. 

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him. 

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified. 

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for. 

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console. 

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static. 

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates. 

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend. 

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be. 

– 

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around. 

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down. 

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence. 

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence. 

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s. 

They’re the same as yours. 

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week. 

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said. 

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence. 

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking. 

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood. 

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon. 

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air. 

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[fastandcarlos]

Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max leaves you and your daughter to stream for the night, only one of you is happy to let max go and play for a while

Max’s eyes lit up as soon as he walked into your apartment, heavy footsteps thudding through. He dropped to his knees as your daughter ran through to meet him, leaping up straight into his arms. His grip was tight as her arms wrapped around his neck, kicking her legs excitably at the sight of her dad returning home. After a couple of moments you followed through, joining the duo as Max pressed a kiss against the top of your head. Max’s free arm wrapped around you, inviting you into their hug as the three of you walked back into the apartment, all entangled in with one another.  

“I can’t stay for long,” Max told you, placing your daughter back down. “Don’t forget I’ve got that charity stream tonight.” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” you smiled, heading back into the kitchen to carry on preparing dinner for the three of you. 

“Where are you going daddy?” Your daughter asked, her hand still resting on Max’s leg to make sure that he couldn’t run away from her. 

“I’ve just got a bit of work to do sweetheart,” he smiled, brushing his hand over the top of her head. “I promise that I won’t be too long.” 

“You’re stuck with mummy for a little while longer,” you joked, trying your best to keep her smiling. 

“I’d rather be stuck with mummy then do what I have to do tonight,” Max grinned, bending down and lifting your daughter up, a loud squeal escaping from her. 

“You can try and make me feel better, but I know she’s a daddy’s girl,” you assured Max, appreciating the efforts that he went to. He couldn’t help it, he felt guilty sometimes that your daughter clung to him more than you, but you didn’t mind, being a spectator of their relationship was pretty special too. 

“I’ll make sure that I’m done so I can come and say goodnight,” Max informed you both, placing your daughter down in one of the dining chairs just to the side of where you were. He walked around and grabbed himself a drink and a snack from the fridge before heading for the door. “If you need anything, you know where I am,” he smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your daughter’s head, moving around to kiss the side of yours too before leaving the two of you to it. 

A sigh came from Max as he closed the door behind himself, hearing the groans of your daughter cry out straight away. He felt helpless as you called out her name in the hope that she would stop complaining, but it wasn’t to be. Whilst George headed upstairs, you found a couple of her toys lying around the kitchen floor, picking them up and placing them in front of her, only for her to chuck them to one side. 

“I want to play with daddy,” she cried out, folding her arms in front of her chest, a habit of Max’s she’d definitely picked up. 

“I want to spend time with daddy too, but he’s busy,” you weakly smiled, picking the toys back up off the floor. 

“Why’s he busy?” 

“Because he’s working,” you explained, opening up the kitchen door again to place the toys back in their box. “Why don’t you go and watch the television sweetheart then mummy can get on with sorting dinner?” 

“Can I watch Bluey?” She excitedly asked, offering the first hint of a smile she’d shown since Max left the room. 

“You can watch whatever you want,” you replied, keen to keep that smile on her face for as long as you possibly could. “I’m sure once daddy is done with work he’d love to come and watch Bluey with you too.” 

“Daddy’s coming now?” She quizzed, not quite understanding what you meant. 

“Soon,” you spoke, only for her smile to fade again. You quickly turned the television on, hurrying to find any episode that you could to put on and distract your daughter. Once you had one, you left her to it, heading back into the kitchen so that you could finish preparing dinner for the three of you without any distractions around. 

Above where you were, Max was all set up with his headphones on, talking to some of his fellow drivers who were taking part in the charity stream. He was lost in his own little bubble until a stream of light came through the door leaving him unable to see what was happening on the screen, the light hitting the exact spot where his character was. 

His eyes glanced to the door to see what was going on, only for a little figure to peer around the door frame, a cheeky smile etched on her face. “Love, what are you doing?” Max chuckled as he met your daughter’s eyes. 

“I missed you,” she grinned, inviting herself into the room, her chaotic feet charging through the room to where he was. 

“I’ve only been gone ten minutes,” Max laughed, bending down to pick her up anyway, sitting her down in his lap. Her arms immediately went around his chest, sticking to him tightly just in case anyone tried to take her away. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to move as she wriggled around to make herself comfortable, her hair flicking in front of the screen over and over again. The boys were baffled on the end of the line as Max’s character was killed, he’d gone from top of the leaderboard to bottom of the pack in no time at all, all thanks to the troublemaker cuddled up to him. 

Usually Max hated coming last, especially when it came to impressing on stream, but for once Max could make an allowance. His weakness was absolutely your daughter, every single person that knew Max could tell you that too, which was why it didn’t take long for the other boys to figure out why Max had suddenly plummeted to the bottom of the rankings. 

“Have you got a little guest?” Charles laughed through his headset as Max’s character was shot again. 

“I might have a team mate,” Max sniggered in response, “not that she’s exactly doing a good job of helping me right now.” 

“Don’t use your child to cover the fact you’re rubbish at this game,” Lando teased, celebrating being the one to defeat Max. 

“I’m being honest,” Max chuckled, glancing down at your daughter again. “You just wait until you have kids one day, you won’t be able to get anything done anymore without a little figure following you around constantly.” 

“Why don’t you just tell her to go away?” Lando jokingly quizzed, hearing several groans from many of the drivers through his headphones. 

“Shut up Lando,” Max grinned, “do you hear how stupid you sound sometimes?” 

As the game restarted, Max tried his best to focus again without your daughter getting in the way. That was soon interrupted again though when you peered through the door, smiling softly when you saw your daughter cuddled up to Max, relieved to see that she was safe in the hold of her father. 

“She just couldn’t stay away,” Max laughed, knowing exactly what you were looking at. 

“I had no idea where she’d gone,” you grinned with a shake of your head. “One minute she was there, the next she was gone.” 

“I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone for long,” Max smiled, taking his headphones off for a moment. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her to go back downstairs again.” 

“It’s alright, she’s not getting in the way though, is she?” You asked him. 

“I’ve lost every round.” 

Oh,” you smirked, unable to hold back your laughter. “It’s for charity so I don’t think you’re allowed to get mad about that.” 

“I also don’t think I have the heart to get mad at this one either,” he chuckled, nodding down at your daughter. 

“No way, she’s a daddy’s girl after all.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lilacgaby]

title: i've changed, won't you see?

pairing: prohero!katsuki x reader

summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.

tags: silent voice inspired!! childhood bully katsuki :(, disabled reader, mentions of violence, angst to fluff, su1cide attempt, comfort, implied nsfw, no proofread

(a/n: i wanted to give my hand at really long works while doing drabbles in between but i have so many drafts now jajsjsj)

wc: ~4k

your eyes were always blurry around him it seemed. your hands shaking as your voice cracked, just begging him. "please leave me alone!" with all the might a five year old could muster.

they scoffed at you, they always did. "crybaby. blame your parents for not giving you a quirk. you should've moved when i told you to anyways, it's my park dont you know?" katsuki mocked, moving closer to you, noticing the card behind your back.

"stop being so mean! quirkless people don't do anything wrong!"

"quirkless don't do anything."

your chest was heaving with pain, your little heart couldn't take it. "you-- you'll never be a hero, you're too mean!"

in an act of rage, he set off an explosion. it was only meant to intimidate you but..

once the smoke settled your screams of terror filled the playground.

blood dripped on the floor, pooling in your hand as your grasped your ear. a ringing was all you could hear, it was driving you crazy.

were you crying? you couldn't tell, you couldn't hear. your eyes were shut as you were filled with panic, the smell of iron flooding your senses.

but katsuki remembered so much more.

the smell of the burned cartilage of your ear, the sight of it, or rather the lack of. the blood that wouldn't stop coming, why wasn't it stopping?

his group that usually rallied behind him was now gone, leaving him and a wailing you alone. he tried to talk to you, but you weren't responding.

he grew the courage to touch you, tapping on your shoulder slowly, but that didn't comfort you. in fact he thought it made it worse, making you bow your head in a defensive position.

he stared at you, unable to move, he was supposed to be a hero like allmight, were you right?

finally, a teacher came running to get you, an ambulance already on the way. they didn't look at katsuki, only at the pitiful state you were in.

you didn't respond to them either.

katsuki felt sick as he stood where you and the teacher had left them. he felt sick as he looked down to the remains of what he'd done to you.

he couldn't process it yet, but he felt a sickening despair and guilt be placed upon his shoulders.

one that wouldn't disappear.

he wasn't blamed for anything, only getting a quirk consolation. they thought he lost control? his parents eyed him as he tried to explain what had truely happened, he didn't know why he was trying, did he want to get punished?

but even after, nothing was done. with a lecture and a couple promises he was sent back to class with nothing done to him.

your life was changed forever though, it was apparent in the way that you seemed even more quiet and closed off. you sat in the back, never spoke to anyone, and got teary eyed when he even stood close to you.

your hair covered your ears constantly, a hearing aid peeking through the strands occasionally. the teacher never forced you to participate, none of them ever made an effort.

the teacher had explained to the class how you were completely deaf in one ear, and extremely hard of hearing in the other. how you'd use sign language from now on, and that the class would learn some in support. they never did though, the conversation going ignored as soon as it was uttered.

you were pulled out of class often, the teacher having to tap you on the shoulder to get your attention. your eyes dejected and your presence small as the person who came to get you made gestures with their hands to you.

you'd been cruelly placed in matching classes 'til your last years of junior high. you'd stayed the same way for forever, it was like a weight placed over his chest.

yet he felt he deserved it. he knew he was messed up. he watched you, a lot. he saw you in the back corners, usually forgotten and ignored. when you were acknowledged you were mocked, people making random hand signs to make fun of the way he forced you to communicate, mocking your unconfident speech right after.

he saw the way you sunk into yourself afterwards, making his heart hurt as you grew impossibly smaller. your hands held your own as you prayed for it to be over.

everytime you'd catch him in the halls, you'd still freeze up. your breath shaky as you bowed and left quickly, making his friends laugh but make him queasy.

that interaction was witnessed by your teacher who, after a day of you not showing up, assigned him to give you your work for the day.

with sweaty palms and a racing heart, he dropped by your house. he knew where it was, of course he did, your mom and his were close industry friends even after the incident.

because you'd never told anyone about what he'd do to you.

he knocked on the door, attempting to seem nonchalant. when you answered though, he felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"[name], uh-- this is your work."

you didn't respond, you looked almost nauseous at the sight of him, it was deserved though.

he placed your work on the floor and walked off, that was the only time he'd spoken to you since the incident,

and he couldn't even apologize.

- - -

U-A wouldn't only be a dream for him, but a release for you both. was it selfish to want to run away from his problems? sure, but it'd help you too.

as everyone in the class exclaimed the names of the schools they picked, unsurprised at katsuki's choice, he pondered on where you'd go.

nobody asked you, so you didn't speak. staying quiet as you looked out the window.

katsuki got accepted into U-A easily, but he couldn't help but feel he lacked the main criteria. he'd hurt people poorly, and couldn't apologize because of his ego.

he felt sick to accept these accomplishments of his, knowing it'd be built up on the foundation of hurting you.

but he did anyway, selfishly. he kept up his harsh demeanor in U-A anyways, working hard and scoring high. he graduated top of his class, job offers to agencies left and right.

he accepted one, working for his old internship officially now. he climbed the ranks quickly, saving lives and catching the attention of the media.

a couple years later, he was a steady number five hero when he took a patrol route over for deku. as he strolled through the city, stores littering the buildings, he saw someone he never thought he'd see again.

you, only now working for your mothers seamstress company. you were embroidering something on the station, hands precise and focused, not noticing him.

he had to keep moving, but.. he made a mental note to come back later.

he finished his patrol anxious, he went to sleep thinking of what he'd even say to you. 'hey sorry for ruining your life, can you forgive me?' he slapped his forehead in frustration.

he searched up basic sign language for beginners, learning a bit. he laughed at the stupid thoughts of your forgiveness that he dreamt of.

"as if i deserve it." he muttered, looking deeply at the ceiling of his room before falling asleep.

as soon as he awoke, he got dressed and prepared. he tried to look causal, as if he wasn't planning this.

he walked in, immediately greeted by your mother who congratulated him on his heroics. "well isn't that dynamite? saving the world i see."

he laughed politely. "i'll be number one soon enough."

"of course! well, what're you looking for? i'll give you a family discount, you grew up so close to [name] didn't you?"

his heart jumped into his throat.

"uh.. we did."

"you two were so adorable! she was so nervous around you, she must've had a crush on you or something!"

"i definitely don't think so."

"oh, you're just being modest." she said, hitting his arm lightly. "there she is now, go and speak to her."

"uh-- i--"

"go!" she shoved him in your direction, making you look up to see him. your lips parted in an unrecognizable expression as you saw him, the line you were working on now crooked as you were left alone together.

it's been about ten years hadn't it? ten years since he last saw you, but a lifetime he needed to apologize for.

he'd learned so much in U-A, outwardly changing his demeanor to what he always aspired to be. but all that meant nothing to you, who only experienced him at his worst.

he awkwardly raised his hand up to you, he did his best to sign while speaking, his hands shaky and unconfident. "hi [name], i'm really sorry about what happened back then."

your eyes followed the movements, your hands absentmindedly wrapping around yourself loosely, defensively.

"i know this is a lot but,

can we be friends?"

he waited anxiously for you to answer, you looking as if you were processing it.

in a grown up, yet timid voice, one that he hadn't heard since you were young, you almost whispered, signing as you did so out of reflex. "thank you, bakugo." your eyes grew watery. great, he just couldn't seem to stop making you cry.

he sat near you after getting wordless permission to, hanging onto every word you spoke, and being mindful to speak in a calm tone himself.

"i.. i'd like a friend, honestly. a new one anyways."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you said that, but still, it wasn't enough.

he wanted to, no needed to make you happy. the years of torment he subjected you to couldn't be made up by anything less than years of happiness.

after a bit of small talk, him asking you questions about what you'd been up to, how your life was treating you. he zoned out a couple times, thinking of how beautiful you've become.

"what would make you happy, [name]?" he finally said, his head supported on his hand as he gazed at you, making sure to enunciate his words so you could read his lips.

"what makes you ask?"

"i-- i want to make you happy. no matter the cost, it's what you deserve."

she laughed softly at that, her eyes flickering with an indistinguishable expression. "...i always wanted to travel. around the world, to see mountains and landscapes."

"then i'll take you."

"you don't have t--"

"i do. and ill do more [name], what i did to you was-- is horrible. you know that."

"i..

okay, okay bakugo."

"katsuki."

you smiled, "katsuki."

going from having very limited contact with your only friend from high school, to having a prohero come to your shop everyday was jarring. but not unwelcomed.

he brought gifts with him everytime, learning what you'd like and not. it ranged from food to stuffed animals, flowers to accessories, all of which you really appreciated.

you grew closer, eventually starting to meet outside of your mother's shop. at the park or walking around the mall, he'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. he'd pay for everything too, despite your reluctance.

he kept his word to you, and at the end of the month he asked you to come up to his apartment.

a penthouse.

as you walked in, greeted by the shimmering atmosphere of the expensive furniture and decor all around, abstract paintings and trophies littering shelves on the walls.

you stood by the front entrance, taking off your shoes as you walked in. "katsuki?" you asked, looking around.

he came out, a tiny smile on his face. "ya made it." he had something behind his back, "come in [name]."

the apartment was huge to say the least, it becoming even bigger than it looked from the entrance. he guided you to his plush couch, sitting next to you.

"so, i know you said you dreamt of traveling, right?"

at your nod, he pulled out the tickets from behind his back. "i.. got this tickets for you. i didn't want to push it in case you didn't want me to go with you but--"

you cut him off with a hug, tackling him into the couch.

"of course i want you to come,

katsuki."

you signed his name differently than other times,

you'd finally made a name for him.

he hugged back mindfully, so excited to finally have a huge first step in the right direction.

but he still needed to make you happy. "we'll leave in two days if that's okay, i just wanted to give you time to pack."

"okay, that's good."

"do you.. want to stay?" he asked nervously, the thought had popped into his mind and out his mouth in a millisecond.

you blinked, sitting up on his legs, pondering it over.

"sure, okay."

he put on some movies for the two of you, his heart was racing at the proximity of your body to his.

the night ended with you laid on top of him, fast asleep as he was comforted by the beating of your heart against his. your chest against his, his hand in your hair as your head laid in his neck.

he woke up first, to the sight of the gold light making you look heavenly, your hair messy from how he was playing with it throughout the night. your face was almost against his, he could kiss you right now.

but he shouldn't. he would move but he didn't want to couldn't, so he looked you over. you woke up to the feeling of his fingers caressing your face, your eyes half lidded from sleep.

"'suki. g'morning."

his heart was getting used to irregularly pounding around you at this point. "[name], uh-- hi."

after a couple moments, you got off of him, much to his discontent. his hands sliding down your legs as you got up.

"i'll be going now, i gotta pack and stuff." you said, looking in one of the many mirrors scattered around as you fixed your appearance as much as you could.

he nodded. "let me walk you home at least."

and he did walk you home, hand in hand.

those two nights he spent pondering over you. he didn't know why, but hero work felt much lighter after talking it out with you. becoming your friend was one of the best things he'd achieved in years, and that was including his recent rankings.

he thought back to how he treated you as a kid, had he really just been searching for your validation all along?

is that why it hurt when you told him he'd never amount to his dreams, because he only valued your opinion?

he let himself sleep, he'd see you tomorrow. and he'd make it all right.

he woke up and picked you up at your place, his expensive sports car standing out against the comfort of the neighborhood. you walked out, dressed simply but cute, a bag of your own in hand.

he grabbed it from you and placed it in the back, opening the passenger door for you as he drove to the airport. his hand on your thigh as he did so, letting you play the music you'd like with loud bass.

it was a half hour ride in comfortable silence, he gazed at you occasionally, a thoughtful expression on your face.

on the plane, you sat by the window. it was first class so you'd get to sleep in a physical bed, in a closed room. you were treated to whatever food and drinks you wanted, hugging katsuki when you found out you where you were heading.

the flight was a long eighteen hours, but it was spent hanging out with katsuki. on his lap asking him questions about the shows you two had watched, power scaling arguments about past heroes, fights he'd recently been in.

also what you two planned to do as you were there, you wanted to go to the beaches and mountains, he just wanted to follow you.

you fell asleep together again, your face laid directly in his chest as he held you.

you woke up to katsuki tapping you on the shoulder. as you raised the volume on your aids, you heard the beeping on the intercoms that meant you'd have to go back to your seats for the landing, groggily being helped up by katsuki as he moved you to to your seats.

you sat by the windows, looking at the tropical region as you two landed, your hand still in his. the moments after we're a blur, before you knew it you were in a car being buckled up by katsuki as you were being driven to your hotel.

what you didn't know was that it was a villa, built on top of the waters of the ocean, your very own private beach right outside your doors with the mountains you'd dreamt of treking right behind you.

you'd never been so happy.

the days you'd spent started and ended all the same, you waking up and going to sleep in katsuki's arms. pretending like you didn't notice how your bed hair got worsened after he played with it all night.

the first days you'd spent at the beach, attempting and failing at surfing. your jet lag was killed off by your utter excitement.

you being thankful your aids were water resistant because of how much you loved the waters of the river and the seas.

you'd had a sandcastle competition, sunbathed, and soaked off in the hot tub of your villa together.

the trek's were fun too, katsuki was annoyingly good at everything so you'd have to fight to keep up.

your polaroid in hand as you snapped candid shots of him, turning it to yourself as you got a selfie of you two with the gorgeous rivers as background.

you jumped into those too, making katsuki freak out as you dived in to the deep waters.

you even got to the top one day, jokingly saying that you should've brought a flag to the top to celebrate. the golden hours of the sunset making you glimmer.

a moment of silence passed over you as he slowly approached you, wordlessly asking for permission as you once again put your hands in his.

you leaned in first, kissing him with the sun as witness.

"i really like you [name]." he sighed and spoke after you pulled away.

"i like you too." you replied, hugging him tightly.

the rest of your trip was filled with your firsts with katsuki.

your first official date was in the burrows of the forest, a picnic where you two painted portraits of eachother. albeit, unique portraits... but painting nonetheless.

your first moment truly loving someone, the feeling you recognized as you laid him in your lap for the first time.

your first talk about what happened all those years ago. a deep one.

"[name], before we become something um.. official. we need to talk about how i hurt you." katsuki said one day, laying faced to you but taking your hands into his.

"kats--"

"let me speak. please." after you nodded, he took a breath and began.

"i was egotistical and really insecure all those years. you were the only one who really read me, that's why i think i got so upset.

i didn't mean to hurt you, i never wanted to hurt anyone i swear-- i just hated that you were right.

that weighed over me all these years, the fact that my hero work meant nothing if i was doing it while acting so.. unheroic.

i never fully felt like a hero, not until i met you again.

not until you graced me with your friendship, your undeserved affection towards me. i just-- i really care about you. and im really sorry, ill spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, and you don't have to accept it because i don't deserve it.

i guess what i'm trying to say is..

sorry, and.. i love you [name].

you don't have to--"

he was cut off by a kiss on his lips.

it felt different somehow, he couldn't place it. almost sad in a way as you pulled back.

"i don't think you were trying to hurt me. but, you did.

and you're working to change it, i appreciate that.

i really care for you too katsuki."

the rest of your trip was comfortingly domestic, learning things about each other you'd never know.

your last week was bittersweet, having to leave your jointed paradise was a reality that saddened the both of you. but your dream was fulfilled, and so was his.

seeing that he was the cause of your smiles and not your horror, making you happy was the light of his day. no, his life.

he thinks he was born to make you happy.

the flight back was a blur, you spent it clinging to him. you started to gift him your own things over the hours, a scrunchie of yours, a bracelet for him to keep.

a locket with a photo of you two, and the polaroid you'd taken on the mountains.

"why are you giving this all to me? not that i'm complaining."

"well, you'll get more use out of it. that's all."

he scrunched his face up in confusion, but with a smile you waved off his concerns.

he wished he pushed you more.

he wished that you'd forgive him for failing you once again, as he fought to take the razor blade out of your grip, slicing your hand in the process.

you were in your bathtub, surrounded by water yet fully clothed, tears and wails wracking your body as you just wanted it to be over.

you finally relented, your blood staining his clothes and the water as he picked you up. you couldn't hear him, you'd taken out your aid.

but you could feel his sobs, his tears hitting you as you shut your eyes, embarrassed of what you'd just done.

you were rushed to the hospital and given stitches, you were to be closely watched from your mom now on, you were told by an interpreter.

katsuki's eyes were red, matching his pupils as he looked at you.

he was frustrated, you could see it in the trembling of his fists and the scowl in his mouth. if he hadn't been there.. you would be dead.

why, he asked you. and to be honest, you really couldn't explain it yourself.

when you got home to your apartment, empty and reminding of your reality away from katsuki, you just felt so..

scared. what would happen when he finally got the validation he needed and left you? your whole life was quiet and tranquil, you'd gotten used to it. but he flipped it upside down again, showed you what your life really could be.

it was too much for you. you had to escape, so after sitting on it, tapping your leg anxiously as you pondered your decision, you went on your phone.

you went online and saw his life outside of you, how he had everything going for him yet what did you really have? a mom and a job at her company?

you grew impulsive, grabbing it absentmindedly and filling up the tub with the water you grown to love over the past month.

after you started bleeding, you panicked. what had you just done? but it was too late..

until he saved you from yourself.

you were zoning out. when you didn't answer him, he repeated himself, grabbing the interpreter so you could sign.

but still you said nothing, except a small sorry.

he left afterwards, leaving you alone in the bed to think.

you were back in your childhood room now, your mom having sobbed as she looked over your hands, as she asked you, "what the hell were you thinking?"

you looked at those glow in the dark stars and tried to find an answer, but there was none.

you held yourself to sleep for the first time in months, already missing him deeply.

little did you know, he was thinking about you too.

the next morning you awoke to a knock on your bedroom door. assuming it was your mom, you got up and opened it.

it was katsuki instead, holding a bouquet of flowers and the locket you'd given him.

"can i come in?"

you opened the door wider, leading him to sit on your bed.

"katsuki i--"

"[name]. i don't know why you did what you did.. but i know it probably has something to do with me. so what did i do wrong?" he looked defeated, as if he thought it was his fault you tried to end your life.

"no! no that wasn't it at all. well, it was about you but not like that.

it's just.. i've been alone. for so long? having you around felt.. too good to be true. i didn't want to go back to how i was before. in a way, you were too good for me."

"you're.. an idiot. but i guess i understand."

"i just.. i really love how you treat me. i didn't want it to go away."

a moment of silence passes, a small anxious laugh leaving katsuki's lips.

"fuck, i thought you hated me. could barely sleep without you."

he pulled you into him, staring deeply into your eyes as he pulled you impossibly closer. he kissed you deeply. his worries, passions, and frustrations all poured out into it.

he pulled away, eyes half lidded as he asked gruffly.

"wanna take this back to my place?"

he took your last first away, gentle and loving as he guided you through it. reassuring you that he'd never leave you.

you moved in with him soon after, finding it hard to sleep without eachother, no matter how late he got back to your shared home.

he'd be welcomed back by the sight of you, who always tried and failed to stay up waiting for him. he'd pick you up, like always, and hug you to sleep.

he'd know he woke you up by the feeling of your smile in his chest, the way you tightened you arms around him.

he loved spending every waking moment he could with you. you were right though, he did break up with you after he got your validation.

...

but that's just an odd way to say he proposed to you, vowing to spend the rest of his life making you happy and fufiling your wishes one by one.

he changed not only himself, but the way you see yourself. he changed your relationships with yourselves and eachother for the better,

and as you walked down the aisle, your wedding planned by your two designer parents, being lavish and gorgeous. the silk on the floor being runway to your expensive shoes specially designed for you, the guests in awe of how gorgeous you are.

you both knew, you'd better eachother for better or for worse, for as long as you'd be together.

he signed 'i do', sealing the rest of your lives together,

with a kiss.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can I request #94 ☁️ with Jack Hughes?

For some reason this prompt was really hard for me to write. Everything my brain was coming up was super dark, so I hope you like this nonnie. Also I hope you don't mind I changed "they" to "someone"

Drabble Masterlist

"Did they hurt you?"

When you walked into the club, all you wanted to do was have a few drinks with your friends and dance the night away. All you wanted was a few hours disconnected from the world to forget about the stress of the week and the stupid fight you got in with your boyfriend Jack. Instead, you somehow lost your friends in the crowd on the dance floor. Suddenly alone and a little drunk despite only having a few drinks. All you could feel is your quickened heartbeat as you tried to push your way through the crowd. The club had way too many people and suddenly you regretted even leaving your little apartment. You were craving air, somehow you were pushed to the ground in the mush-pit that was the dance floor. Finally crawling back up, you turned your body and pushed yourself through the crowd.

It took you until you were outside to realize that your fishnet stockings were ripped in multiple places, your makeup was smudged from the sweat of being inside the hot club and your hands were covered in little cuts from people stepping on your hands. Standing outside you could feel the crispy cold air from the beginning of fall in New Jersey. Without even thinking you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber to the one place you felt most safe.

Jack opened the door in shock to see you. Usually when you both had a fight you at least let each other cool off for a night. But once he took in your appearance, your slightly ripped clothes, the dried blood on your hands, the way you weren't breathing evenly his stomach dropped as he pulled you into his arms. He slightly kicked the door shut with his foot as he held you in the small entry of his apartment. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your body, you clenched onto his t-shirt with your hands and fell into him as you sobbed. Your emotions from being intoxicated plus almost having a small anxiety attack in the club.

Without even thinking picked you up, automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist. One of his arms moving to pet your messy hair as he cooed in your ear. "shh baby, shh it's alright baby. your safe baby. promise." His promise making you cry a little harder maybe out of relief for knowing it's true. With your eyes closed and your head tucked into Jack's neck you didn't even know where he was carrying you until you felt him try to put you down.

"no. no. no" speaking for the first time since you got here. Jack held you tighter trying to reassure you that you were okay.

"baby I'm just gonna let you sit on the sink in the bathroom. I'm gonna wash your makeup off okay, and I wanna clean your hands." he whispered to you softly. Slowly you let Jack sit you down on the end of his sink, still standing between your legs. He reaches behind you in the cabinet next to the mirror and grabs his first aid kit and your makeup wipes he keeps in stock for you. Finally getting a good at your hands his jaw locks suddenly feel anger form in the pit of his stomach. "honey" he cooed at you, lightly grabbing one of your hands and you winced. "Did someone hurt you?" All you could do is nod looking down at your own hands. "Who?" he asked sharply, without a doubt thinking of ways to hunt them down in the moment.

"I got pushed to the ground somehow at the club." you admitted shyly suddenly embarrassed about being pushed around so easily. Jack grabbed an alcohol wipe and started lightly cleaning your hands.

"That's not okay." he said bitterly. "Where were your friends?" Even though he sounded bitter, his touch was soft as he was focused on cleaning your hand and then putting Neosporin on it.

"lost them in the crowd."

Finishing with that hand, he moved on to the next without saying a word. Then he threw away all the trash from cleaning your hands and pulled out a makeup wipe. He still hadn't spoken but you didn't need him to, just the fact that he was the one cleaning you up made you feel better. His eyebrows were creased focusing on getting your stubborn makeup off without having to put too much pressure on your face. His tongue slightly sticking out as he grabbed another makeup wipe, you closed your eyes your body relaxing to the feeling.

"baby?" Jack asked softly.

"hmm"

"Gotta make sure you don't have any other cuts. Do you wanna change here or in my room?" He asked his arms softly wrapping around you as you felt yourself craving sleep.

"bed. I wanna go to bed." you whined. Jack lightly chuckled. He carried you to his bed lightly sitting you down, without hesitation you flopped onto the bed.

"Oh no you don't" Jack said as he took your arm to pull you back up to sitting.

"I wanna go to bed." you complained again.

"And we can once you change." he reasoned.

"too tired you do it." you mumbled too tired to even open your eyes.

"okay honey if that's what you want." lightly kissing your forehead before letting you lay down on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge as Jack got you one of his t-shirts and boxers to change into. You could feel Jack struggling trying to change you but you couldn't bring yourself to change. He found another deep cut on your knee and cleaned it without you even twitching. He knew you were deep in sleep by now.

Finally he cleaned everything up and climbed into bed with you. He pulled you close to him and you slightly moved to form around his body. He didn't know if you were awake or not but he still kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there tonight." he whispered not expecting you to answer.

"It's okay. You cleaned me up and your here now that's more important." you mumbled wrapping your arms around Jack tighter and slipping back into unconsciousness.

[ribread03]

Stream Zs

M.sturniolo

When you visit Matt from Boston and can’t make it through the late night stream…

Warnings: none

MY WORK IS MY IDEAS AND CREATIVITY! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION”

Enjoy💋🫶

It’s currently midnight in California. You’re visiting Matt from Boston so the time difference is throwing you off. You and Matt have been dating for over 2 years now and when him and his brothers decided to move to LA you were devastated but Matt promised that he would fly back to you whenever he could and he would fly you out to him whenever you wanted.

So here you sat next to Matt on stream talking to all of the fans in the chat, Chris and nick are behind the two of you roaming around Matt’s room being nosy. Your occasional yawn slips in here in there as the stream rolls on with what seems like no stop time. You want to be awake while Matt streams to not only be with him, but to meet the newer fans who might not know who you are yet.

“Someone just gifted 25! Who was that?” Matt says loudly causing you to jump awake slightly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row you try to read the name that gifted 25.

“I need my glasses I cant see that far” You say standing up and taking a few steps over to Matt’s nightstand. You grab your glasses and give them a quick wipe with your shirt before throwing them on as you sit back down next to Matt. Your eyes scan the chat looking for 25 gifted. “Gabbi did!” You say excitedly pointing at the monitor.

“YEAH GABBI!” Chris screams from behind you. This causes you to jump slightly, not having expected Chris to scream that loudly. Matt is quick to hold your hand and comfort you. The chat is even quicker to flood with comments about how cute the two of you are.

~~

Nick and Chris both left the room as Matt started to play Hogwarts Legacy, leaving just you two and the 4k people still watching late into the night. It’s currently 2 am LA time and 5am in Boston.

You’re partially asleep on Matt shoulder, your eyes heavy and barely focused on the screen as he picks out his wand. “Ima go lay down” you say through a yawn, picking your head up off of Matt.

“Okay” he say softly watching as you stand up from the chair. “I love you,” Matt whispers while placing his hand over the monitor and giving you a quick kiss. This causes the chat to flood with comments about what you guys just did or didn’t do.

“I love you too,” you return Matt’s kiss. You make your way over to his bed, getting comfortable on your side. You pull your glasses off and grab the stuffed animal, you leave at Matt’s house, to cuddle with. You can hear Matt turn his voice down slightly as he reads some subs and comments out loud.

After a few minutes you hear Matt chair swivel and his voice float through the room, “I did get pretty lucky, didn’t I” He says with a soft smile to the chat while looking back at you. Turning back to the camera, “one more task guys.” He picks his controller back up and selects a short task wanting to get off as soon as possible.

Once Matt completes the task and tells the stream bye and goes offline. He gets up from his chair and makes his way over the empty side of the bed. The mattress dips as he lays down next to you, you groan lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I couldn’t let you be alone for too long” Matt whispers placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You mumble a response back and close your eyes all the way once again. Not to long after Matt is drifting to sleep, nestled close to you.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Symphony 🎻 | Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

note: I wrote this because I want to be part of Rhaenyra's symphony 😩😉

Rhaenyra falling in love with a musician would look like:

The first time the Crown Princess laid on eyes on you was during her name day celebration. The king had called upon the finest performers, artists, dancers, and jesters in Westeros for the eighteenth birthday of the Kingdom's heir. You were part of a traveling music group, where you played the violin and were the lead vocalist. 

Immediately drawn to your captivating presence, Rhaenyra barely paid attention to the others in your group, and when the rest of the performers were brought on stage, her thoughts lingered with you and zoned out the rest of the celebration. Searching the grounds the moment the final performance ended to try and get another glimpse of you. When she finally did, Rhaenyra swore she'd never seen anything as beautiful as you before in her life. 

"Princess!" You abruptly stood from your chair upon realization the young lady was behind you, too emersed in the conversation with your friends until one of them cleared their throat with wide eyes and pointed over your shoulder. "My apologies I did not realize you were there." "Please, do not apologies, I should've announced myself. I was wondering if you'd be interested in talking a walk with me. I'd like to hear more about your music and travels of the country."

For an hour you strolled through the area reserved for the performers and vendors. Tents and stands on every corner. At one point you stopped to see the small animal enclosure with baby goats and cows. Rhaenyra learned you were from the Riverlands, and your family were nomadic. Traveling all over Westeros, from Dorne to Winterfell, at the request of lords and ladies to perform. The most recent journey before coming to King's Landing was High Garden to celebrate the knighthood of Lord Tyrell's son.

There was an evident spark between you two. You felt it. Rhaenyra felt it. The warmth in your chest spread each time you made eye contact, her cheeks flushed when you complimented her. She hung onto every word you spoke, and in return you observed her body language. When someone interrupted, there was visible annoyance where she pretty much pleaded with whoever to leave with her eyes, and dismissed them with a, "Yes of course, tell my father I'll only be a moment."

When the celebration came to an end and it was time for the dinner, the princess asked you to join her table. Of course you were surprised, and a little nervous, "My Princess, my thanks to you for the generous off, but I fear that would be inappropriate. I am employed by your father, not a guest." "Nonsense, you are my guest. I've said it--and it is my name day after all so it shall be upheld. Join me so we can continue our conversation." How could you say no after that?

When the day rolled to the next, you and your group were set to leave after breaking your fast, but as you loaded the carriage a guard rushed with a note and informed you the Princess had requested your group to remain in King's Landing and be the permanent performers for when the Royal family hosted banquets, balls, and tourneys with the promise of payment, lodging, and all the benefits employees of the Red Keep get. 

Yeah, you all accepted that without a second thought. 

To say you didn't miss traveling would be a lie, but you enjoyed living in the Red Keep. You were given food, clothes, money, and a section of the lower levels for your friends to live. The Princess called on you regularly, to play your violin or sing ballads while she either admired you from beside or read her books. Soon you two fell into a routine. Progressing as the weeks go by to moments where you broke fast together, strolled the gardens, accompanied her on trips around the kingdoms. 

Each time you performed, Rhaenyra sat as close as she could to the stage. Staring in awe as your fingers and bow moved graciously across the violin, your beautiful voice so enchanting it'd make the Seven fall in love, echoing against the walls. Eyes full of love, finding each other's with smiles painting your face. 

Unfortunately a union between you would never be approved. Not by the court, the country, or her father--no matter how happy you made Rhaenyra. She was the Crown Princess, the heir to the Iron Throne. It was expected of her to marry a nobleman, bear children, and take her place as Queen. You'd have to remain in the shadows. A secret to the people.

Of course, rumors spread of the tales between the Princess and her close companion. Most of them diminished upon Rhaenyra's marriage to Ser Laenor---which the three of you had come to an agreement that the two would uphold their image to the Court, but in secret Rhaenyra's heart laid with you--but even then, whispers echoed the halls.

She's sneak to your quarters in the middle of the night to hear you play when she had trouble sleeping. You gifted her favorite sweets whenever you went into the city. When she felt the threat of the Greens growing as her father's conditioned worsened, you joined Rhaenyra at Dragonstone. By then your musical group had decided to part ways, many stating they wanted to return to their homes and raise their families.  

Over the course of your relationship with Rhaenyra, you wrote many songs of her and your life together. She'd become your muse, the inspiration for your works. Sometimes you'd sing them for an audience, but there few reserved only for her ears. 

So when the decades passed and you two were lost to the Dance of Dragons, the songs of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and her violinist lived on. Passing from generation to generation like the songs of the Conqueror and eventually Jenny of Oldstones. People live and die, but music is immortal. And you had immortalized the beauty and love of Rhaenyra through your art. Making her part of a symphony. 

[fullofbees]

MC/Reader is now pegging the dateables ˶⚈Ɛ⚈˵

CW: Praise (Simeon), WolfBoy [Ears + Tail] & Butt Plugs (Solomon), Cock rings & Teacher/Student scenario (Diavolo), Rough Blowjobs & Deepthroating (Barbatos)

»»----------► AFAB Reader, using a strap-on (referred to as a cock)

"I've been thinking about your request," the angel says, "I'd like to try it."

With his head on your chest, you wonder if he can hear your heart stop. "Wait, really?"

He laughs, delighted by your eagerness, "Yes, really."

"I promise to make you feel so good," you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

Tonight, it's his turn to be worshipped. Three of your fingers stretch Simeon's eager hole. You pull them back to smear the sticky mess of lube around his rim. His desperate whine at the loss makes your core throb. "N-No, please, I need..." He quietly sobs. You didn't know how Simeon would react when you asked, but the succulent sight of him bent over the bed before you was the night's first surprise. The second came from his brazen behavior. You've never seen him so... uninhibited before. It makes the blood rush in your body, your core pulsing with need. "I know, baby," you hush, climbing over him and spreading his legs with your knees. It's almost sinful how easily your cock slides into him. His back bows towards the bed, a heady moan rumbling in his throat. The mattress makes it easy to bounce him against your thighs, melting his moans into sweet whimpers. "Thank you," you whisper, hips now rocking into him as you hold him still. It's so hard not to buck, all so you could hear him choke on his own cries. Simeon tries to respond, but his words are jumbled as he loses himself to the pleasure. You lean closer, reaching around to gently tug his cock, the tip wetly sliding against your palm. He manages a weak, "Mmm, not gonna last--," his hands grasping the sheets as his body trembles, his spend spilling through your fingers. You smear the excess along his length, nearly overstimulating him into a second orgasm. "So good," you praise as the angel collapses against his bed. He's still catching his breath, softly panting while you trail kisses up his spine. "Let's get you to the bath, yeah?" He nods, the last moan of the night tumbling past his lips when your cock slips out of him. Simeon's body gives under its own weight, and while you're about to freak out, worried that you injured him, the angel begins to laugh. "I'm okay," he reassures as he rolls onto his back, a lazy smile lighting up his flushed face, "My legs are like jello, though."

"Do you still have your ears from Halloween by chance?" You ask the sorcerer.

Solomon looks up from his experiment, ignoring the box in your hands, as he responds, "I believe so. Do you need them for something?"

You wordlessly open the box, removing its contents and shoving it into his hands. He stares at you in disbelief, but soon, he grins at you, undoing his belt with one hand.

You let the leash fall slack in your grip, releasing the pressure that constricts Solomon's throat. His grey wolf ears are pinned back as he softly gasps, followed by choked wheezes as he tries to regain his breath. The sound of clinking metal softly rings before you tug at the leash, the choke collar digging into his flesh and cutting off his airway again. His cock twitches in your hand as you mercilessly pump him, intent on milking every last drop. The fur of his tail brushes against your arm, the sensation causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "What a good pup," you praise. You've bent him over the sofa's armrest, his face pressed into the cushion below. The curve of his back accentuates the slimness of his waist, making his backside look plump enough to sink your teeth into. It's too bad you already disposed of your vampire teeth. "Fuck," he barks, "Just fuck me already." Solomon fidgets, swaying his hips in a desperate attempt to find friction against the silky fabric of the settee. You pull on his tail in warning, and his hips still, a deep moan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of his hole stretching around the plug. You must've ended up staring at the toy as the sorcerer huffs impatiently, "What's taking so looong?" "If I remove it," you start, watching his hole twitch around the decorative plug, "You won't be a full puppy anymore." "That's what you're worried about!?" He howls, sagging against the armrest in exasperation. "This is why you aren't allowed to top." He shakes his head in disappointment, but you swiftly put an end to his attitude by beginning the slow pulling on the toy. The plug swells, his body stretching to accommodate the size. His criticism devolves into needy whimpers at the empty feeling he's left with once it's removed. You slide your length teasingly along his entrance, the sound of his canine whines like music to your ears. He fits perfectly around you as you slide the tip in, bottoming out when you lean over him to grab his ears. With as much strength as you can muster, you pull on his ears, forcing him to balance on his hands while his back arches. "If you want to be a brat, I'll fuck you like a brat," you say, amusement in your voice from the way he trembles.

"If someone was beloved by all, do you think it would be selfish of them to still be discontent?" He asks, face staring forlornly into the teacup he holds in his large hands.

"What is troubling you, Dia?" You ask, bypassing his attempt to not confront the issue directly.

The demon prince confesses, "It's boring without any chaos." He smiles, but it is pained as he heavily sighs, "What kind of leader would find peace so lackluster?"

"Sounds like you want to be punished."

Kneeling on the plush bench at the end of his bed, Diavolo rocks his hips against yours, grinding himself back on your cock. The crop snaps audibly against his skin, making the demon gasp and jolt forward. "Thank you!" He groans, his head bowing towards the bed, where he rests on his elbows. "Another, please." You smack him with a quick flick of your wrist, and he trembles, another blissful moan filling the room. He doesn't thank you this time. After gently petting his thigh, you pull out of him, nearly making Diavolo collapse against the bench. Having realized his mistake, the demon begins to beg, "No, p-please! Please let me cum, I'm sorry..." "And so am I... but rules are rules," you tsk, "You know what to do." The towering man now sheepishly moves to sit on his bed, hands gripping the edge tightly with his legs spread before you. "Yes, professor," he says dejectedly. "Very good," you quickly praise, using the same flick of your wrist to will your magic forward. A cock ring materializes in your hand with an iridescent flash of light. Precum weeps from the tip of his cock, beads dripping along his length. You tease him with the ring, coating it with his spend to allow it to slide on with ease. Diavolo hisses when you slide the ring down his shaft, cool silicone titillative against his fiery arousal. His fingers dig into the mattress, a desirous grip threatening to split the seams as you adjust the ring around the base of his cock. You smile at how his hips buck into your touch, seeking release that he has yet to earn. "You're doing so well," you whisper into the space between you both, hand brushing away sweaty strands of hair that cling to his forehead. The demon leans into your touch, eyes closed as he accepts your merciful affections, starkly contrasting the harsh enforcer that met him initially. With a snap of your fingers, the ring buzzes to life. Diavolo grunts, teeth gritting at the sudden stimulation to his overworked cock. Your hands fall to his knees, holding his legs apart as the vibrations return his body to the orgasm you had previously denied. He nearly sobs when you snap the ring to stillness once more.

"Can we make the most of tonight?" You ask, resting your cheek upon the demon's shoulder.

He laughs, an all-knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "What kind of question is that?

"I want to do something you've never done before, never, in the history of time."

Your hands are tangled in Barbatos's hair, tugging on the sage strands as you bury your cock in his throat. Saliva gathers at the corners of his mouth, leaving sloppy trails as it dribbles past his lips and down his chin. "Fuck, Barb, are you sure I'm not hurting you?" You ask, concerned after the demon chokes on his moans. He pulls back with a wet pop, threads of spit connecting him still to your cock. Barbatos licks his lips, hungrily eyeing the length between your legs as he responds, "Quite sure. I implore you to be more rough." Your core pulses with need, doubly so at the rare sight of the demon's disheveled appearance; His hair strays wildly from its usual neatness, lips swollen from your ravaging, and ivory skin flushed crimson. Barbatos peers up at you through his long lashes, a devilish grin complimenting the sinful desire in his eyes. "I live to serve," he says with ease, as if you're not the first he's had to convince of his loyalty. "Okay..." You whisper shakily, "Open, please?" He obeys, and without thinking, you tap the head of your cock against his waiting tongue. You effortlessly glide along the soft muscle, aided by his saliva, as you slip back down his throat. Since he asked for rough, you sling your leg over his shoulder, fingers lacing through his hair once more. Barbatos holds you steady, bare hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, guiding your hips as you begin to thrust. The privacy of his room allows you to be vocal, the air filled with your pleased sighs and his satiny, gagged groans. It's easy to lose yourself to the arousal building in your core, the pace becoming frantic and erratic as you chase your climax. Your hands hold Barbatos, pressed flush against your lower stomach, as the coil finally snaps. His hands slide along your skin to your ass, clinging desperately to your body as you ride out your high. The demon's grip falters when you step away, coughing as air rushes into his lungs and cools the burn in his throat. "Shit, shit, are you okay?" You ask, pushing his dampened hair away from his eyes. His voice may be hoarse, but Barbatos smiles at you, "I've never had a meal that delicious."

A/N: I feel like these aren't as good as the brothers' ˢᵒᵇ(ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣ ہ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ✿)ˢᵒᵇ - so feedback/criticism is appreciated!!

[rivendell-poet]

Hello! It’s the same anon who asked you about the Hobbit movies :) I was wondering if you could write (no pressure! I just mostly wanted to share an idea) funny headcanons or a scenario of a female reader (could be a non-Mirkwood elf or someone from a long-lived race) who was part of Thorin’s company and meets Legolas again 60 years later when she’s with Frodo in Rivendell? Reader remembers how Legolas wasn’t too courteous to the Company and locked them up in the dungeons which made her dislike him quite a bit. And let’s just say that she wasn’t all too… thrilled upon meeting him again in LOTR and him joining the Fellowship with her ahaha. Bonus points if she remembers Legolas calling Gimli a ‘goblin mutant’ when he looked at Gloin’s locket in the Mirkwood forest xD.

Again, please take your time with this :) I understand that you have quite a few things to write, and I only want you to write whatever you feel happy writing <3

Hi anon! Sorry it took so long for your request, but hopefully this was what you meant with scenarios. If you'd prefer a oneshot please feel free to put a new request in <3 Thanks so much for the idea by the way, it was super fun to work with. And it genuinely means so much to read the last note on your request, so seriously thank you

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞��𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 0.5k | TWs : None

✧ To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t wanted to join the Company in the first place - it was more of a collection of favours than a real desire to reclaim Erebor.

✧ Which made it so much worse when you and the Company got captured in Mirkwood.

✧ (It probably didn’t help that you’d let out a small laughed at the blond elf’s joke about Glóin’s son. In your defence it was funny.)

✧ As an elf, the guards had been cordial to you - and you’d managed to find out quite a few things about the kingdom. Such as the blond elf being Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.

✧ He tried to visit you, once, holding the idea of having a better bed and better food over you if you gave up the information.

✧  And you may not have wanted to be in the Company, but you’d be damned if you weren’t loyal to them.

✧ So you’d simply refused to speak to him.

✧ Although all that knowing his name, and your time in Mirkwood, really did was help put a name and reasons for your grudge.

✧ A grudge that hadn’t gone anywhere, until now.

✧ Because sitting across you from you at the Council of Elrond was the same elf as the one who you’d only properly seen through bars. Not that there was recognition in his face.

✧ The matters only got worse when you realised the name of the dwarf who was joining you - Gimli.

✧ For the first leg of the Fellowship you don’t bring it up, because the quest to save Middle Earth is (sadly) more important than a simple grudge.

✧ It doesn’t mean that you can’t still be slightly petty to him however.

✧ You never do anything that could endanger him, just subtle things - like waking him up a few minutes before his watch should start, or loosening his dagger from his scabbard only enough to make him confused.

✧ Gimli eventually figures out it was you, but promise not to tell. He’s the only one aside from Gandalf who actually knows of your involvement in the Fellowship, but not of the precise comments.

✧ That’s a little bit of information you want to share on a good occasion.

✧ You decide to finally share the story a little after leaving Lothlórien, because you can tell the Fellowship needs some cheering up.

✧ And when you say it you feel completely justified in waiting this long.

✧ Because you get to watch the elf almost turn pale - as pale as an elf could go - as the realisation hit him.

✧ (The rest of the Fellowship does briefly have to deal with Legolas looking horrified while you laugh and try not to keel over.)

✧ Merry and Pippin join in the laughter as soon as you explain the joke.

✧ And it does the job in cheering the Fellowship up.

✧ Legolas takes it surprisingly well, although afterwards approaches you to apologise in private - genuinely expressing remorse for his actions.

✧ It’s unexpected but welcomed, and you thank him for it.

✧ From then on it becomes an inside joke between you all (especially you and Legolas).

✧ And, when facing what you are, even a simple joke can be one of the brightest lights for the two of you. A light both of you are grateful for.

A/N : Sorry to any readers who wished for comedy, I'm afraid I'm not great when it comes to writing this. But hopefully you enjoyed it! And, honestly, I'm very open to writing more in this universe/with this premise if people want some <3

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @chewgazellechew / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @stormchaser819 / @raikan624 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[jooillusion]

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙘 𝙝𝙪𝙚𝙨 — o. seungmin

[ outline. ] - one of you and your boyfriends favorite things to do together. he’s the painter and you’re his muse.

[ content + warnings. ] - college au, artist!o.de x reader + pet names, lingerie, kissing, suggestive but no smut, seungmin is a simp, they’re in love and it’s sickening, not proofread

[ word count.] - 2k

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 .ᐟ this is quite literally inspired by my xdh lingerie reaction post if you want to check it out here! you don’t have to read it but i mentioned that the wardrobe is full of shades of purple, so this was a random thought turned into a fic lol. hope you enjoy!

seungmin’s clammy hands gather his belongings from the table as soon as the clock hits three pm. he didn’t want to endure another second of hearing his professor’s painfully bothersome voice piercing his ears, he could literally do anything better for an hour and a half rather than hearing them whine and moan about every single thing. besides, he was looking forward to going to his shared apartment and maybe cuddling up next to his girlfriend who’s most likely out of her classes and watching some television. he’s definitely prepared for what ever story she has bubbling in her throat for him as her fingers run through his hair, his head laying on her chest and his arms around her torso wrapped in a warm embrace.

he’s definitely prepared for what ever story she has bubbling in her throat for him as her fingers run through his hair, his head laying on her chest and his arms around her torso wrapped in a warm embrace. it became a routine at this point, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she was on their couch laying on her back waiting for him. the thought of it etches a smile onto his lips.

“hey seungmin,” seungmins head turns towards the voice next to him, his actions of putting his notebook in his bag halting. the voice belongs to jiseok who’s already all packed up and ready to go, his hand in his pocket and a grin taking over his features. seungmin raises an eyebrow. “wanna get some drinks with me and the guys tonight? it’s been a while since all six of us hung out.”

seungmin rolls his eyes, knowing that jiseok loves to exaggerate. it’s only been four days since he last saw all of his friends. 

“i have homework to do,” seungmin glances down at his watch to make his case more believable. “like right now.”

“bullshit.” he snorts. jiseok knew he was going to lie, since that was his excuse almost every single time he just wanted to go home in a rush. jiseok audibly sighs, his fingers pinching his nose bridge and his head shaking from side to side. “your only “homework” is that girlfriend of yours huh?” he makes sure to emphasize the word to at least fill seungmin’s gut with guilt. he’s proven wrong again though, since seungmin stands proud with no shame at all, the sheepish smile on his face full of pride.

“you sound jealous as if you wanna be my girlfriend.” seungmin coos as he finishes placing his things in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and making his way towards the exit door of the lecture hall. jiseok scoffs and ignores his comment, trailing next to him.

“cmon man. ever since you two got together, it’s been like a rarity to actually see you out.” 

“that’s because i have priorities. and my main priority right now is doing my homework.” seungmin emphasizes just like jiseok did earlier, smirking at a disgusted jiseok who jokingly gags.

“ugh enough with the homework thing!” jiseok raises his voice in slight irritation and it only makes seungmin laugh. “you’re so gross dude.”

“i didn’t say which kind of homework i was doing.” seungmin’s purposefully obnoxious laughter dies down, his eyes not missing the scowl sewn onto jiseoks face. “hey, maybe next time dude. pretty sure she misses me more than you guys.” seungmin’s palm lightly pats at jiseoks shoulder, the supposedly reassuring gesture only making jiseok roll his eyes.

“yeah okay. that next time better be a promise.” jiseok finally goes his own way. seungmin shakes his head playfully as he watches the boy walk away, walking to his own car once he’s out of sight.

“it’s not even what he said it’s just the way he said it!” your voice rings through seungmin’s ears like a bell, the pent up frustration that you’ve been holding in all day slowly leaving as you rant to seungmin. he doesn’t mind at all, nodding his head after every sentence you finish. 

he sets the blank canvas on his easel, sitting upright in his stool and turning towards you. he can’t even feel bad since you’re sporting an adorable pout on your face. “you weren’t even listening were you?”

he chuckles and shrugs. “i listened enough to know this happened before.”

“and what is that supposed to mean?” you scoff and raise an eyebrow.

“it means that i know you so well. you know like a good boyfriend.”

“yeah yeah whatever..”

seungmin stands up from his seat. “c’mon babe i was just joking.” he wraps his arms around you, kissing your cheek. “you know i’m always on you’re side even if you’re in the wrong.”

you laugh. he was definitely being ridiculous, but it made you feel even more better.

“i guess boyfriend who just knows me so well.”

you hear him quietly snicker through his nose, the air hitting you’re ear. 

“how about you go ahead get ready for me, yeah? the sooner we start the sooner we could lie down.”

he lets go of you, nudging his head towards the bathroom down the hall. he watches you prance down the hallway and into your shared bedroom. seungmin follows a few seconds after once you’ve retrieved the bag from your bedroom, getting ready to step into the bathroom to watch you change. he’s seen your body countless times before, yet he always gets giddy just thinking about it as if he’ll see if for the first time again.

but what he doesn’t expect is the wooden door of the bathroom to slam right in front of his face. he stands still, not believing what just happened until he tries again, attempting too turn the knob only for it to not budge.

seungmin leans against the frame of the bathroom door from the outside, his arms crossed.

“and why am i not allowed to see my girlfriend of nearly a thousand years change again?”

“i want it to be a surprise,” seungmin hears from the other side of the door. “if you see me change into it now, it’d ruin the shock factor.”

“i was standing right next to you when i bought it-“

“yeah but you haven’t seen it on me yet, so get lost!”

seungmin rolls his eyes. he obliges your orders, quietly stepping away and returning to his stool. he preps his tools, squeezing paint onto the wooden palette and tying a smock around himself. he hears you open the door not too long after, turning his head to get a glimpse.

he’s once again met with nothing, only being met with your loud voice booming through the hallways.

“close your eyes and i’ll tell you when i’m in there!”

he sighs with the slightest tinge of irritancy, closing his eyes anyways. he hears a little bit of shuffling until he doesn’t, but feeling the presence of something in front of him, his eyes fluttering open once he hears your command.

seungmin feels as if his air is stolen straight from his lungs. the first thing he sees is the lace corset that hugs your torso just right, the decorated lace in the shape of hearts and in his favorite color—purple, the shade of lilac to be exact. his eyes follow the pattern down to the stockings clipped to the lacy stocking clipped to the corset along with some panties, all sharing the same shade of color.

he knows he’s gawking, his jaw growing sore but he can’t even notice as he debates whether or not he should follow up with the activity, instead trying to savor as much of the image in front of him as he can.

his hand unashamedly reaches out to touch, a light slap swatting his hand away.

“maybe afterwards babe.” you giggle, turning around to walk to the middle of the room. seungmin gets a full glimpse of the thin piece of fabric that sits in the slit between your ass. you weren’t wearing panties, you were wearing a full on thong. and it sends seungmin into overdrive.

he nearly chokes on his spit, clearing his throat and pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. he peeks from behind the canvas.

“pose for me, love.”

seungmin watches you hesitate for a moment. it takes you awkwardly shifting–which is nothing but adorable to seungmin–until you’re satisfied enough with your pose. he waits until you’re fully ready, bringing his focus back to the canvas.

he takes his time, setting aside the thoughts of what he’ll repay you with later. for now he’ll just settle for mixing in the paint, not even needing to directly look at you to know, already having studied every single detail you possess. you watch seungmin’s focused face, him flashing a wink everytime you two lock eyes, causing you to smile at his antics.

as more time passes by, paint stains his fingers and smock. as more time passes by, your body starts to grow tired from standing in one position. as more time passes by, the sun starts to set, the rays seeping into opened blinds and hitting your skin just right.

“can you turn around for me? i wanna see more.”

you do an experimental turn, your backside facing seungmin and returning to your original pose, looking over your shoulder. he smiles and claps his hands together. the sunlight hits right at the curve of your shoulder and runs down your arm. you catch him as he’s staring dead on again, before shaking his head and going back to painting.

“are you almost done?” you ask, growing slightly impatient.

you could tell by the way he was looking at you every time he peeked from behind the easel something would follow up after your little session, his eyes wandering either way too low or too high. either way, it didn't bother you at all. your boyfriend’s attention was all you wanted.

he only nods his head silently at the fear of suddenly blurting his thoughts out too loud. seungmin strokes his paintbrush a few more times, setting it down along with his palette.

“i’m finished. c’mere and take a look.” you scurry your way over to him, taking a look at your boyfriends work. he watches your jaw drop, crossing his arms.

“you like it?”

“i love it. it’s stunning.”

he smiles, “you’re stunning.”

“i swear i knew you were going to say that.”

he laughs, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your torso, his fingers tracing over the outlines of the decorated corset. you take the time to observe his work closely, noticing how he captured every part that you had considered a flaw, but perfect to him regardless. seungmin pulls you closer, lightly kissing down your neck.

“you smell good y’know.” he breaks the silence, nuzzling his nose into your skin.

you turn your head, giving him an eye roll before placing your lips onto his, his colored fingers cups your cheek. you let him pull you closer to deepen the kiss, your own hand coming up to grip the back of his head and delicately pulling at his hair. it quickly grows heated, seungmin’s tongue welcoming itself into your mouth to which you happily allow him in.

it’s messy and it grows hot. it makes your grip in seungmin’s head tighten, the noise traveling from his mouth to yours.

“wait,” he pulls away, the bottom half of his face already flushed and his lips swollen. “let’s take this to the bedroom.” his lips curl into the smirk that you know all too well. to your surprise, seungmin hooks his arm under your legs and lifts you up, carrying you down the hall and into the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

the abandoned artwork sits at the easel in the middle of your shared living room, just a few inches away from where you were previously standing just a few seconds ago. maybe once you two finish with whatever you’re doing, you’ll retrieve it and add it to your personal collection for only you and seungmin to see and forbidden to anybody else. at the moment though, you two could care less if somebody could walk in and see it.

[tenjikyu]

Okay! With your earlier reply in mind, here is my second request *slides it across the nonexistent table*

I've been having major Mitsuya brain rot so obviously this request will be about him :>

Picture this: Final timeline adult Mitsuya doing all his fashion designing stuff x house spouse (gn version of housewife/househusband).

Genre can be fluff, maybe a bit suggestive if that's okay with you, I don't mind either way, I am just dying for some Mitsuya works cuz I swear I've read most of the gn and male reader x him fics out there and I am starving for new content with him

Hopefully this was coherent and had at least something you could work with (if you need anything more specific, I can send another request)

— 🎭

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ mitsuya x GN!housespouce!reader , pure fluff n slightly suggestive but it’s nothing more then kissing, I 💗 mitsuya omg, still haven’t rewatched Tokyo rev I’ve been slack 🙁, short n sweet but I was struggling to finish it and I didn’t wanna keep the people waiting much longer so I do apologise.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ I’m so sorry for how long this took!! I desperately wanted to get this out before it hit the 1 month mark but I’ve been super duper busy with personal shit! Hope it’s still good enough lmao.

Takashi ironed the fabric with the upmost care, fondling the silk around the board with a low heat level on. The design itself was a dress resembling a lotus flower. The top was beaded with pale pink rhinestones and the bottom consisted with an array of green silks and gems. It had a sharp yet form fitting feel and anyone could tell the designer put the upmost love into the piece.

A gentle knock came from the other side of his work studio, and there was only one person it could be.

“Here darling, I made you some miso soup to have. Light enough it’ll keep you full but still good for dinner”, your voice charms his ears. Ever since moving in with him, you’ve taken on the role of housespouce. You clean and cook for him, in order to provide the best possible space for Takashi to work in.

It had been twelve years since the two of you got together in middle school. You were the schools vice president, and he was a gang member. Despite the opposite worlds, you hung out frequently and even babysat his sisters when he was unavailable. The day Takashi knew he wanted to some day marry you was the day he came home to his two younger sisters resting in your lap, washed dishes and comfortably lying on the futon.

Now, the two of you reside in an upper class place with lots of room for Takashi’s designs, and none of them are anything short of ethereal. Behind every design he creates, inspiration of you seeps through the thread and needle. Your favourite flower, animal, colour and styles all influence Takashi’s dresses and all of them are of the highest quality.

So, whenever you come into the studio, Takashi gives you a big grin and awaits a hug from his favourite partner.

“How’s your day, darling?” He asks you, and you smile gently at him.

“I’ve missed you, I can’t deny. It seems you’ve been locked in here forever”.

“I apologise my dear”.

“I know another way you can’t make it up to me..” you grin at him, and his cheeks flush with a pink hue.

Kissing his Adam’s apple gently, you guide him up and out of the studio, into your bedroom. Lying his cherished body onto the bed, you feel up his torso as you continue to litter him with small hickies.

He soon follows your lead, pressing a loving kiss to your cultivating lips. You swear there’s nothing closer to heaven than this man’s touch, and you’re convinced you’ve ascended as he grips your cheeks to deepen your kiss.

“I’ve missed you too, darling”, Takashi presses another kiss to your collarbone and manoeuvres his hands around your waist, and you sigh gently at his grip.

“I promise you I’ll give you what you want, after we eat dinner “, you giggle, and his pout is nothing short of cute.

“So you lead me to bed and suddenly leave me high and dry? I’m hurt baby”, he chuckles out, pressing one last kiss to the wedding ring on your finger.

“After dinner, I’ll give you all the desert you desire my love”.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 16: Shibuya Incident: Gate Closed

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 1.8k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, mostly platonic, you're really just part of the story

Masterlist | Next

You've heard enough to know that Tsukumo Yuki dislikes the Jujutsu world. Meaning that it's already big news that she's shown up in the first place, but it also means she most probably had a plan. You don't blame her. Jujutsu society is messed up.

" The next stage of humanity lies in breaking away from cursed energy." 

" No. It lies in optimizing cursed energy." 

Yuki and whoever is hiding away in Geto's body appear to not agree on the matter.

She turns, shrugging at Yuuji, who raises a hand.

" Uh. I don't understand either of those." 

" I thought you gave up on that plan 12 years ago after Zen'In Toji died." 

" That's what I told Geto, yes." 

You blink, your eyes turning to your best friend in question. She believed people with promising talent like him and Toji were the solution for a curse free world? Interesting.

For now, you'll have to stay focused in finding the technique that will defrost the stranger's technique. 

Once again, you're lucky. Just like before with octopus man, you can for some reason use the stranger's technique to your advantage.

Admittedly, you've messed around with snow before, but you've never used it to defrost anything, to undo or create ice. But then again, there's a first time for everything, right? 

Both Geto and Yuki explain their ideals. Yuki doesn't see the use of optimizing cursed energy, considering Japan would be a monopoly in that. Other countries wouldn't just stand by and watch. It would create a war. Whoever is hiding in Geto doesn't seem to care. He just wants cursed energy to take over in it's best form. Doesn't matter if it's through people or cursed objects. According to him, his ideal is a spec in the darkness. According to him, he should've let 'chaos consume around him beyond his control'. He had been limited, but now he had extracted the technique to do so.

At once, Yuki turns to Yuuji.

" There was a curse named Mahito, right?! The one whose technique could manipulate souls!" 

" That guy just absorbed him." 

Yuuji sounds awfully nonchalant while Yuki is obviously distressed. Her eyes widen at his words.

" Seriously?!" 

Geto leans down, pressing his palm to the ground. At once, a symbol shows on the ground, also appearing in the sky. It looks eerie.

" Tengen's barrier? No, this is..." 

" You have my thanks Yuuji. Curses cease to improve once they've been absorbed by curse manipulation. Your fight with Mahito is what really matured him." 

" What did you do?" 

Yuki is rightfully not in the mood for Geto's round of approval.

" I remotely activated Idle Transfiguration on two types on non-sorcerers that I had marked ahead of time."

As Geto continues to explain, you finally get the gist of unfreezing the icy technique, summoning the cursed energy in the form of water all around you. As well as that, their cursed energy weakens. Probably because of the wound they healed when Choso's Piercing Blood cut through their palm like that.

The stranger's eyes widen as you manage to free yourself, freeing Sukuna soon after and the rest as well.

" What's the matter Uraume?" 

Geto looks over at Uraume, who is looking utterly scandalized as they watch you.

" L/N Y/N. " 

You raise a brow. L/N? Now who is that?

" Sorry, I'm not game for talking right now." 

With that, you sweep Uraume off their feet with a strong gust of water, using their own cursed energy against them. Sukuna laughs, the sound loud, causing several of your allies to turn to you in question.

" Hah! Finally." 

You raise a brow at your best friend, he sends you a side eye back.

" What? You took long. I knew you could do it." 

However, the fun ends after that. Due to Uraume's weakened form, their cursed energy disappears into thin air. 

Unbothered, Geto continues speaking, explaining how he's been working on this for over thousands of years. He calls today 'the world of the future'. You don't need to wonder on it for long.

Within a moment, he has reached through Geto's curses, and summoned a lot of them at once.

You gather the rain which had fallen around you, crating the water circle in a steady flow around you.

Sukuna takes a step back, shifting closer to you.

His body language a clear message. 'Stay close to me.' 

Admittedly, you weren't planning to leave.

Everyone is surrounded by curses at once. You glance around you in concern, noticing just in time to see Geto holding out the prison realm mockingly to Yuuji, adding that he's expecting great things from the boy.

Unbeknownst to you just yet, a notice from Jujutsu Headquarters is released.

1. Geto Suguru is confirmed to be alive, and has been sentenced to death once again.

2. The suspension of Itadori Yuuji 's death sentence is revoked and the execution is to be carried out immediately.

3. Yaga Masamichi shall receive the death penalty for inciting Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru and causing the Shibuya incident.

4. Gojo Satoru has been deemed an accomplice in the Shibuya incident and is thus permanently exiled from the Jujutsu world. Furthermore, removing his seal will be considered a criminal act.

5. Special Grade sorcerer Okkotsu Yuta is appointed Itadori Yuuji's executioner.

[ This is where the series ends. Continuing from this point means manga spoilers!]                              Manga spoilers for this chapter: chapter(s) 138

Some time passed. Not much. Maybe five minutes. The cursed spirits were a distraction.

" I'm sorry for not acting sooner. I wasn't sure on what to do...."

Geto escaped. His cursed spirits are all over Tokyo. Satoru Gojo is gone. Nanami and Nobara are dead. 

If anything, you all lost. And horribly so.

On top of that, you have no idea where Megumi is currently.

You shouldn't have left him in that street in Shibuya. You hope Toge found him.

You suppose it's not Yuki's fault. If anything, you blame the higher ups.

" ...The situation had reached a point where I thought I should just keep an eye on things. At least temporarily... Have you realized I'm not necessarily on your side? I'm just a humble beauty who wants to eradicate cursed spirits from the world. By way of apology, my comrades and I will take responsibility for delivering those kids who were there. It's about time I confront Tengen. 

What will you do?"

You don't know. Originally, you just wanted to go home. On top of that, you haven't felt as homesick as you do right now. 

However, you can't. You know so. You have to help. They've taken you in after all, cared for you like you had always been one of their students. You owe it to Gojo sensei at least. You have to help get him his freedom. Going home comes later.

Sukuna glances at you. He knows you better than most people. He understands what's going through your head, how you work. He still has to catch up to what's been going on here. On who Ryomen Sukuna is. On Yuuji's story. On your own. However, he can't find it in himself to care. He figures he'll figure it out. You could be one of the curse users in this universe, and he'd still follow you. All the people he cares about are in your universe anyway.

Silently, his hand reaches out to hold your own. You glance up, but his expression is the same as always. No emotion shown on his face. You know he's reassuring you though. He'll stick by you, no matter what.

You give him a small smile, before looking at Yuuji.

" Yuuji, we'll follow you. " 

Sukuna lets go of your hands, crossing his arms over one another as he looks at the boy he recognizes as his twin brother.

" No."

You blink in surprise. Sukuna raises a brow.

" The fuck you mean no?"

Yuuji shakes his head, eyes flitting over the visible injuries on you.

" I've already nearly killed Y/N. I don't want that to happen again. You two should continue to figure out how to go home. If you help, your chances of dying only increases."

" Yuuji, no, that literally wasn't you. Ryomen Sukuna tried to kill me. Not you.-"

" Don't be so angsty. It's stupid, and pathetic. We're not weak. And we're here anyway so we might as well help. Besides, I trust our classmates to manage bringing us home."

Yuuji sighs.

He should've expected this. You never seemed to listen anyway, and why would your best friend be any different?

" Y/N-"

" No. None of that."

You're glaring at him.

Yuuji sighs.

 Of course, you and Sukuna end up joining him.

-

Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen beneath his blindfold, taking the weapon his student is holding.

" He lost it?"

" Don't think so. Rather the portal seemed to reject it. It was weird, considering it was clicked onto the Chain when he fell in. "

Fushiguro Megumi is a bit bloodied up, but still standing and ready to go yet again. Gojo is proud of his students. They've all grown quickly, jumping opportunities and often being able to take on things much bigger than them. It was rare for them to ask for help, especially for Megumi and Sukuna.His beloved angsty teenager students who would much rather get sucked into a portal towards some other place than ask their beloved sensei for help.

Gojo can't help but smile, causing Megumi to grimace.

" What're you smiling about?"

" Can't believe my dear students have finally decided to come ask for my help." 

Megumi sighs.

" Don't ever tell Sukuna I did...."

Megumi trails off, eyes on the table between them.

" I just want my friends back. Even if they're annoying."

Gojo smiles.

" Wouldn't dream of it. Go visit Shoko, leave it to your sensei."

Megumi shakes his head, wiping the blood of his forehead.

" I'm fine. Let's get Nobara and Yuuji." 

He prefers your touch to Shoko's anyway. Not that he'll ever tell you though.

[ A/N: We're in the manga : D. Never expected people to like this tbh. Glad you do tho. 

ALSO I have finally decided. It's a (your) Sukuna X you, Megumi X you (maybe I'll make a bonus epilogue with (your) megumi X you. No promises on that though.)

Lastly, the sweet romance stuff is mostly reserved for the epilogues bc we're mostly following the canon story line.]

The Anomaly Taglist

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