#seriously heed the cut

[mryddinwilt]

Sanditon thoughts

Why yes I did binge Sanditon and have *opinions* Everything under a cut so nobody gets spoiled. Since I'm going to mostly be talking about the last episode... you have been warned.

I should say first off that I really enjoyed the majority of the season. The tension. The hand touches. The declarations. The theme of women taking control of their lives. It was all fantastic. All the feels.

That's why the last episode was such a massive disappointment. The miscommunication trope is a staple of the romance genre but it's a staple that is losing favor. For good reason! Too often it is thinly supported and makes little sense. Unfortunately, Sanditon's last episode is a textbook example of this.

Charlotte merely hearing that Alexander might be engaged was not enough motivation for her to just throw her hands up and be all "I guess I'm going to Ireland!" In fact, I think such a choice is contrary to the entire theme of the season. Charlotte is meant to be independent and strong but she can't go and investigate the rumor? She can't ask a single person if it is true?? She can't tell the guy how she feels? She was so mad at him for not speaking sooner and then she does the same? It makes no sense. It's anti-character growth.

Putting aside her not investigating. Let's assume it is true. Alexander Coulborne is engaged. Does that mean they can't be together? Nope! Even taking into account the whole stigma of ending an engagement in the Regency it makes no sense.

First, the engagement is a secret. The woman would suffer no ill effects from a broken engagement. (Not that the show seemed to be even taking that into account but still).

Second, the show spent a lot of time pushing home the point that Coulbourne disagrees with the idea of marriage without love. He wanted her to discard Ralph. Why would she think he would choose differently with the roles reversed?

Third, not giving Alexander the choice is disrespectful. Charlotte knows he loves her. NOT telling him that she is available robs Alexander of the chance to make his own decision about his future.

Fourth, the choice to have Charlotte just give up is the opposite of the theme of the season. The entire season was about women taking control of their lives and not letting the men dictate what they should do. Charlotte being active in pursuing Alexander would have fit better than her giving up.

The miscommunication route was lazy and unnecessary. It was a sad way to end an otherwise very enjoyable season.

I mean imagine that they hadn't fallen onto that tired old trope.

Instead, we could have had an awesome conversation that mirrored Alexander's and their first meeting. Just imagine...

Charlotte goes to the house, enters the study, and he looks up from his writing. She is just as awkward as the first time.

She confesses that she has come with no expectations but rather she must tell him that her circumstances have changed. He swallows, and sits up straighter.

She tells him that she could not marry Ralph when she loved another. When she loved him. He rises, eager to embrace her but she puts up a hand. Continues to tell him that she respects that he moved on, that he could not wait for her, and that she would never want to ruin another woman's happiness. She flees from the room. He follows.

Catching her in front of the house, he tells her there is nothing to ruin. He is free to marry where he wishes. KISS!

And then instead of a quick flash of scenes, we get to actually enjoy a bit of wedding planning. Maybe a small argument. Maybe they talk about the school plans. WHATEVER.

The point is that I did not need the manufactured drama.

I did need Charlotte to actually articulate her feelings for Alexander. I did need to see them announcing their marriage to Leo. I did need hints that this relationship was going to go the distance because it was based on open communication.

Anyway. That's it. I just had to share that.

[lightseoul]

you're losing me

synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing

word count. 2.5k words

“Where is everybody?”

You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.

“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”

You merely hum in response.

A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.

“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”

At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”

You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”

You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”

“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”

You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.

“Okay.”

You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.

It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.

“You alright?” you ask.

He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”

Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.

“What is it?”

At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.

And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.

He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.

He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”

That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.

You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.

You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”

Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”

And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.

“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”

You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.

Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.

“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.

He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.

You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”

“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”

“Okay.”

You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.

He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.

Since when did he get so hesitant with you?

“I’ll go then,” he announces.

And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.

Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.

The days after are unremarkably the same.

He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.

On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.

Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.

You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.

And so you rarely see him.

But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.

Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.

Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.

Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.

“Nightmare,” he croaks.

At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”

The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—

“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”

Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.

He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.

“Okay.”

The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.

Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:

Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.

Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.

Still, maybe he needs this night out.

You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.

With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.

Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.

You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.

You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.

Huh.

You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”

“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”

“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”

Your Katsuki? Drunk?

For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.

“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”

“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”

When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.

“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”

Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.

“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”

“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.

Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.

You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.

“We’re here, Kats.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.

Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.

“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”

You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“My mom made me do it, you know.”

You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”

“Propose to you.”

“Oh.”

He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”

You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”

He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”

Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.

“It was stupid of me, though.”

Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”

He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.

“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”

“Katsuki.”

“You can do way be—”

“Katsuki!”

He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.

You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.

“Look at me.”

He does so.

“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.

“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He thinks you don’t want to marry him.

Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.

You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.

And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.

You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.

Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.

You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.

He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”

At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”

He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.

A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”

Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.

You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”

He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”

“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”

At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”

At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.

“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”

Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”

At his confession, you can’t help but smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”

You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.

“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”

Bakugou smirks, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.

“Not if I propose to you first.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3

[sexlapis]

Actor toji! With actress yn where they still keep kissing each other even after the director yelled cut and the scene was over😭😭 that too a RAINY KISS SCENE jdjdhsahah, until somebody yells cut again and everybody starts laughing and they just pull apart slowly like☹️☹️

omg this is so cute 😭😭😭

rain kisses!

⤷ actor!toji x actress/actor!reader

sfw, short fic, kissing, all lines in the acting dialogue are from ‘the notebook’ as i cannot write scenes -_-

actor!toji masterlist

masterlists

*

“..and…action!”

you stop laughing after that failed take and get into scene, the rain machine pouring over you and toji’s heads, drenching you both.

even though you have been acting with toji for over 2 years, after you two began dating, you find it hard to take working with him seriously, even in romantic roles.

“why didn’t you write me?!” you shout at toji. well. not exactly toji but…you know.

“why?! it wasn’t over for me!” you continue, acting out your lines splendidly as you dress begins to cling to your body and your hair sticks to your damp face.

“i waited for you for seven years. and now it’s too late! you cry out as “toji” makes his way towards you.

“i wrote you three hundred and sixty five letters.” he states, staring at you intensely. he didn’t need to act out his desire your attraction to you. the chemistry you both shared was authentic, nobody could deny that. “i wrote you everyday for a year!”

“you wrote me?”

“yes!”

“you-” you cut yourself off, looking away for extra effect.

“it wasn’t over.” he declare. toji’s eyes flicker to your lips then back to your eyes and you know he’s planning something silly. “it still isn’t over!”

he grabs your face, pulling you to him and shoving his mouth onto yours, harshly moving his lips wet lips over yours as the rain washes over you both. it was so just so dramatic.

“annndddd…cut!” the director calls, pleaded with how the scene turned out.

but you and toji…do not take heed to what is said. it only makes you tug him closer, sopping faces pressed against one another as you both make out like your lives are on the line.

“i said cut!” the director yells again. you and toji only continue your little performance, toji grabbing onto your hips as he dips you down unexpectedly and continues kissing you. a gasp leaves your both before he’s smothering you once again.

“cut!” the director shouts once more. at this point everyone is in a fit of laughs over your display, not even intervening. “cut! that’s enou- okay i’m done.” the director just drops his script and starts to walk away.

finally, you and toji pull away, grinning like idiots and swings you up in the air to carry you bridal style.

“toji!” you exclaim and hit his shoulder. you cover your face in embarrassment, as if you hadn’t just made out with your boyfriend in front of one hundred people. crew members rush over to provide you with towels which you gladly accept.

toji looks to the director, who stands with hands on hips, appearing disappointed. “how’s that for a take, huh?”

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | @ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz

a/n: he’s (toji) so silly 🙁

[seoafin]

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day. 

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly. 

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them. 

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer. 

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist. 

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose. 

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome. 

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps. 

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away. 

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them. 

All of this is just temporary. 

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home. 

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.” Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway. 

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island. 

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.

[lecsbootymain]

Itafushi headcannons

megumi is the only person who's ever made yuji blush in all seriousness

megumi is a hoodie hoarder (of yuji's hoodies ofc!)

yuji likes running his fingers through megumi's hair when he's asleep

they've been on countless ice cream dates (ofc megumi would call them otherwise but like-)

yuji walked in on megumi fresh out of shower once and it took him a full whole minute to regain his composure (and get his insides to stop tingling)

"So are you just gonna stare or?" Megumi cocked a challenging eyebrow, the faintest edge of amusement coating his tone. If Yuji kept looking at him like that for any longer, Megumi would have to step back into the bathroom to get rid of the inexplicable heat emanating off of his muscles. "I-", Yuji cleared his throat, as if to chase away any last remnants of how heavy and hot his insides felt from showing, "- yea, sorry, I was just- would you like to catch an ice cream later?" he blurted out; It had been weeks- 27 days precisely (of course he was counting!) since they'd last went out together. Just the two of them. Between the growingly demanding training schedule and countless missions Gojo was bent on sending them on, it was getting harder to catch each other selfishly lately. It bugged both of them more than they would've liked to admit. The only difference was that Yuji would actually come up, heed to the temptation and ask him out already, while Megumi would bait him walking around half naked like that. Megumi shrugged, "Yea I'd like that," he was really hoping he was doing his best to smother the excitement in his voice, but boy did Yuji know any better. So he nodded finally, cutting his brooding little black cat some slack, "Okay, cool, so um, see you in a while? When you're-" another cough "-decent," God why was it so hot in this room? With their date outing settled, Yuji turned to leave. Maybe it was all the sleepless nights catching up to him, or maybe seeing Megumi's towel hanging that low had short-circuited the nerves of his brain, but Yuji could've sworn he saw Megumi don one of his hoodies, out of the corner of his eye; one which had disappeared out of the blue after a mission, one which he'd been searching for incessantly. And there the stupid butterflies went, making a fuss in his tummy.

ever since megumi caught yuji sneaking off to the terraces at night to actually relax without feeling the responsibility of the world drooping his sanity, he makes it a point to accompany him

they don't do much, never talk even, just sit against the rooftop, with yuji's head on megumi's shoulder, megumi's fingers intertwined with yuji's on his thigh and their gaze fixed upon the same stars

ever since the encounter with sukuna, megumi has to have his head on yuji's chest so he can actually sleep, listening to yuji's rythmic heartbeat is what keeps his going

the first time megumi ever called yuji by his first name, was when he moaned it against his mouth after their first kiss

yuji fell in love with him all over again after that instance and now he gets pissy everytime megumi calls him itadori when they're in public

megumi would let yuji style his hair (only on sundays, and yk this is big coming from someone as reserved as him)

yuji would casually throw around sexual jokes when with megumi, unaware of the effect it has on him

yuji secretly (oh who am i kidding, megumi obviously knew ab it; with the way my man's got his eyes on him 24 7, i wouldn't be surprised), mixed their colognes once because he liked the idea of it

their first kiss was actually initiated by a frustrated megumi in an attempt to shut up a stupidly beautiful an annoying yuji

yuji may or may not have had an existential crisis over his crush making the first move

nobara is the first person they come out to

yuji's love language is quality time while megumi's is acts of service both inside and outside the bedroom

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okayyyy you guys, I'm so sorry for posting this so late. Truth be told, it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks, I was too caught up with my exams so I was giving it a rest. But a girl can only take her mind off of two silly little gays for so long! So here it is. I'm ngl, but the way writing about anything jjk related in general, especially anything stsg or itfs centered, never fails to boost my energy levels up is crazy. I love love love them w all my heart, and I try to express it in my hcs. I know they may not be exactly canon-compliant, but they're what side of my brain that's a sucker for happy endings seeks refuge in. So yea, I try.

PS The yuji-asking-megumi-out tidbit was supposed to be only like a few lines, idk how I ended up writing all that-

Alsooo I've been wanting to write an itfs fic for awhile; not that I have a solid plot at ready or anything, it's just an urge I have (and I know that's not how writing works lol) so maybe, just mayyyybe, ima try to work on it in my vacation? (which starts from tm btw). Cause if I actually do plan on going ahead w it, it'd be my first ever fic, and tbh it seems just as scary as it seems exciting. Either way, if you managed to read this far, I'm grateful that you did!<3

Long live itafushi!!!🎀

[propertyofkylar]

i dont think you've discussed kylar using just the tip to it's fullest potential... he'd be whining and begging, tears streaming down his face while he barely moves at all... IMAGINE IT!!!

hehehe m!kylar x gn!pc

“Don’t move.”

Kylar let out a feral-sounding whine, but nonetheless heeded your words.

“P-please, my love,” he whimpered, his fingers strengthening their clutch on your hips. It would probably hurt, if you weren’t enjoying the situation so much. “Why?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds, delighting in the way tears were welling up in Kylar’s eyes as you made him wait. “Mm. I dunno, actually. It’s just fun.”

He tried to glare at you, but tears started spilling at that moment and the impact was lost. “You’re—you’re mean,” his fingernails were nearly piercing the flesh on your hips and you couldn’t have felt more gleeful at that moment.

“Please, my love,” Kylar was begging now. If his cock wasn’t (barely) inside you, you imagined he might literally be prostrating himself in front of you. “Let me move. Let me love you. I—I need to feel inside of you, completely, so, so badly.”

Truth be told, you wanted that, too. But the joy of making Kylar suffer was almost as good as being fucked by him. And if your theory was right, it would end up being even better because of it. “Ah ah,” you smirked. “You can only move when I decide to let you.”

You could tell Kylar was desperate, the way his teeth were gritted and sweat dripped down his forehead, intermingling with his tears. “And when will that be?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Kylar practically howled at that, his face flushed beet red.

“Oh, fine,” you said with a huff, trying to act like it wasn’t affecting you as well. “Go on, then.”

The words had barely finished leaving your mouth before Kylar’s hips slammed against yours, leaving you breathless.

“So mean,” Kylar muttered under his breath as he repeatedly jackhammered into you. You were unable to form a response. “So, so mean.”

“Ky—” you managed to squeak out before you were cut off by your own, loud moan. His eyes flashed before he slipped a hand between your legs and began to stroke you. Clearly, your meanness hadn't damaged his dedication.

“F-fuck, I...” you yourself whimpered as your climax hit. A manic grin grew on Kylar's face as he felt your walls clench around him.

He didn't stop his rubbing nor his thrusting as you rode out your orgasm, his free hand still digging into your skin. The pain and pleasure mixed, and you could tell by the look on Kylar's face that it was exactly what he had wanted.

“So-hah-good!” Kylar panted as his hips slammed so hard into you that you felt yourself move several inches. “I love you!” He cried out as he thrust as deeply as possible, gripping your hips for leverage as he came inside of you. He didn't move, just stared at you possessively for a moment, his entire body slick with sweat. Then, with a huff, he dropped his full body weight on top of you, burying his head in the crook of your neck with a sniffle.

“You're so mean,” he whined for what felt like the millionth time. You giggled in response.

“You did a good job,” you told him, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled back to give you a pleased smile, humming happily. A twitch inside you reminded you that Kylar still hadn't pulled out.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, eyeing him. “Seriously? Again? Already?”

He pressed feather-light kisses to your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you. Then, he flashed you a devious smile.

“My turn to be mean.”

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: The situation with the demogorgons gets increasingly more dire, leading you to the Byers’ house to wrangle four kids that can’t listen to save their lives (literally) while everyone tries desperately to save Will and the world.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down scary shit, billy being an actual complete asshole, physical violence

Word Count: 8.9k

Author’s Note: This chapter was pretty fun to write! Things get pretty intense in this part, so heed the content warning. I hope you all enjoy :)

Series Masterlist | Part 4 | Next Part

***

There wasn’t a clear path through to Hawkins Lab, making it pretty damn difficult to traverse through the woods, especially in the dark. Regardless of this fact, you were hauling ass, desperate to make it to the lab so you could take these demogorgons out, and maybe, just maybe, put all of this bullshit behind you. Steve was right on your tail, a little overwhelmed between making sure the kids were keeping up and that you weren’t getting too far ahead.

You tripped on a tree root, and you would have face planted if it weren’t for Steve quickly grabbing you by the elbow, aggressively pulling you backwards to counteract your forward momentum.

“Y/n, you need to slow down,” Steve said, his voice serious. His face was twisted in annoyance, which irritated you as you scoffed and shook out of his grip.

“This is time sensitive. We’re not here to take a nice stroll through the hiking trails. We’ve got shit to do,” you grumbled as you went to turn around, but Steve grabbed your arm again, pulling you closer. The kids were still lagging behind, but he kept his voice low to make sure they didn’t hear.

“Listen to me. We’ve got three kids mixed up in all this shit with us. I get that it might be time sensitive, but if you break an ankle, then we’re stuck out here defenseless, moving three times slower. You need to be a little bit fucking cautious. I can’t do this by myself.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying to push the anger aside as you nodded. You hated to admit it, but Steve was right. You were being impulsive and it was putting everyone’s life in jeopardy. Steve could tell you were still anxious to get there, the anticipation being all too overwhelming. His hand fell from your arm as he grabbed your trembling hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“I’ve got you, alright? So let’s do this together like we promised, yeah?”

“Okay,” you agreed quietly. He dropped your hand as the kids caught up. He cleared his throat as the air became slightly awkward between you.

After about fifteen more minutes of hiking, the trees started to become less and less dense, until you were almost out of the tree line. Suddenly you heard a voice shout out, which made you jump as your heart stopped in your chest.

“Hello? Who’s there?!”

You all finally made it out of the thicket, finally realizing who had called out.

“Steve?!” Jonathan and Nancy asked in unison.

“Nancy?” Steve stepped forwards just as confused as they were.

“Jonathan!” Dustin chimed in with a smile on his face, relieved to see someone else that could help them.

“Y/n, Dustin, Lucas, Max,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pointed to the rest of you, “now that we’re done with introductions, what the hell is going on?”

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked, frustration leaking into her tone.

“What are you doing here?” Steve shot back, still not happy with Nancy’s recent actions. In his mind, he didn’t owe her an explanation.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” Nancy answered, cutting to the chase.

“They’re not in there, are they?” You asked hesitantly.

“We’re not sure,” Nancy replied, concern flashing across her face as she picked up the seriousness in your tone.

“Why?” Jonathan asked cautiously, but before you could answer, you all heard screeching coming from the lab, finally noticing that the lights were flashing outside in an orderly fashion, indicating that some alarm system was likely enabled.

You all began arguing, attempting to figure out when the last time anyone had seen Will and Mike, when suddenly each floor of Hawkins Lab began lighting up again, one by one.

“The power’s back,” you breathed out, unsure if it was a good or a bad sign. Jonathan sprinted back to the operator’s booth, rapidly pushing the button to open the gate with no such luck.

“Let me try,” Dustin tried to push past Jonathan, but he didn’t budge, “let me try, Jonathan!”

You rolled your eyes as Dustin whined, his pushing of the button making no difference than when Jonathan had been pressing it before. “Shocker, it’s not working,” you called out, sarcasm lacing your voice.

“Son of a bitch!” The boy exclaimed as he continued to shove at the button repeatedly. After a few minutes of button pushing, the gate finally began to roll open, Dustin celebrating the fact that he had saved the day. This kid’s a fucking idiot, you thought, rolling your eyes, confident that the gate opening was the doing of someone inside the building.

Jonathan and Nancy piled into his car as they drove off towards the facility, leaving the five of you behind.

“Should we try to follow them?” Dustin suggested. You glanced back over at the lab, lights still flashing and alarm still sounding. Though you desperately wanted to help in any way you could, you weren’t going to risk the safety of the kids, knowing that if you went, they’d be close behind regardless of whether or not you told them to stay put.

“No. We’ll let them handle this part. If they don’t come back soon, we’ll follow, but until then we’re all staying right here. Understood?” You asked, swinging your flashlight to point it at each of the kids while you waited for their response. They all nodded in agreement; they knew better than to mess with you.

And so you waited, you picking at your fingernails, Steve tossing his flashlight up and down, and the kids pacing and kicking the ground.

“Guys?” Max spoke up as she paused in the middle of the road, noticing two cars quickly approaching. You recognized the first one as Jonathan’s and he laid on the horn, clearly not slowing down.

“Get out of the way!” Steve shouted, grabbing Max by the arm and pulling her to the side. You swiftly followed suit, grabbing the two boys by their collars and yanking them to safety just in time for Jonathan to fly past you. Something was clearly imminent and you didn’t want to be there when it arrived.

The second car screeched to a halt, and you were met with the face of Jim Hopper as he shouted out the window, “let’s go!”

Steve threw the door open, hurrying the kids along to get in the back of the police vehicle, placing a hand on your back to guide you into the back of the van before jumping in the passenger seat and slamming the door. “Okay! Let’s go!” He gave Hopper the all clear, patting the side of the police vehicle to signal that everyone was safely boarded in the car.

“What the fuck is going on?” You asked from the backseat, leaning forward between Steve and Hopper.

Hopper looked at you a bit annoyed, but he knew enough about you to know that you were a good kid, so he tried to stay calm. “I’m assuming you know about the demogorgons given the fact you’ve got a golf club and a baseball bat. What else do you know?”

“Other than that shit is clearly bad again, not much,” you breathed out. What more was there to know? Hopper’s words scared you, and Steve was quick to put a gentle hand on your shoulder to help you settle down.

“There are these tunnels. Under Hawkins. The demogorgons have been using them to travel around town and all this shit from the Upside Down is leaking in. All the ash and shit from last year is there and there’s rot all across town,” he started. You looked wide eyed at Steve, both of you remembering the gaping hole in Dustin’s cellar.

“I noticed a tree in the woods earlier, its trunk was rotting from the inside out. It was marked…with-with a yellow flag. That was you?” You asked to clarify.

“Yes, but that’s probably the least of our concerns. The gate is still open, and those assholes at Hawkins Lab thought it was contained but it’s clearly not. They’ve been doing controlled burns, trying to tame it back, but it’s not working,” Hopper gripped the steering wheel tighter, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him.

“What are we gonna do?” Dustin spoke up from the backseat, attempting to push around you to be a part of the conversation in the front. You shoved him back and rolled your eyes, giving him a look that told him to watch himself.

“Right now we’re going back to Joyce’s house where it’s safe. And you’re not going to do anything. We’re going to go home and wait for backup,” Hopper glanced back at the boy. You were about the protest, when Steve elbowed you and shook his head. Now was not the time. Besides, Steve wasn’t too upset about the idea. He wanted to be far away from the danger. He wanted you to be far away from the danger.

You sighed and flopped back. Shit was about to hit the fan, and you weren’t sure how prepared you were to deal with it.

***

The Byers’ house was equally as disheveled as it was the year before, but this time, instead of lights, there were crayon drawings scattered and taped all over the house. Steve watched as Nancy comforted Jonathan while Hopper yelled on the phone, his call for backup clearly not going the way he had hoped it would. Steve entered the kitchen, going to lean up against the counter with you. You could see the hurt on his face, and you gently nudged him in the side to get his attention.

“Hey, chin up,” you reminded him softly. You knew Nancy had hurt him and even though you wanted to be mad at her, you couldn’t. She was hurting too, still grappling with all this shit that life kept throwing in your direction. You couldn’t blame her for wanting different things; for realizing she needed to make changes to be happier. You still couldn’t understand how she wasn’t happy with Steve, though. He’d been your saving grace through all of this and you were envious of the ways that he had been able to be there for her that he couldn’t be for you. You pushed the thought aside and tried to take your own advice, straightening up in the face of it all.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin asked as Hopper aggressively hung up the phone.

“We’ll see,” he shot back, not happy with the incessant questioning from these damn kids.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike yelled, frustrated with the lack of action that Hopper was suggesting.

“We stay here, and we wait for help,” Hopper slowly articulated, his tone making it clear that it wasn’t up for discussion. He exited the kitchen before anyone else could chime in. You rolled your eyes.

Mike began talking about Bob Newby, and your heart sank in your chest as you tried not to let your eyes well up with tears. All day, you’d been trying to prevent anymore deaths; to keep everyone safe. You had failed, but you were starting to find the grace to understand that this wasn’t on you. Despite that, it still hurt.

“We can’t let him die in vain,” Mike begged. You couldn’t agree more, but in more ways than one, your hands were tied.

“Well, what do you want to do, Mike? The chief’s right about this. I mean, we can’t stop those demo-dogs on our own” Dustin spat, clearly feeling just as frustrated as you had felt.

“Demo-dogs?” You asked incredulously. That might be some of the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard.

“Demogorgons. Dogs…Demo-dogs,” Dustin reiterated, and you scoffed.

“When it was just Dart, maybe, but now there’s a fucking army and we don’t have the manpower or resources to take that many fucking monsters out,” Steve spoke up. He still was partial to staying back, letting the grown ups figure this shit out.

“His army,” Mike spoke up and you could see the glint of realization in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“His army!” Mike repeated. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too!” He quickly stood up from his chair moving to pick up one of Will’s drawings. You gently grabbed it and your heart ached knowing that Will had been seeing this thing in his nightmares. By the looks of it, it was huge, its crooked arms reaching out and infecting every inch of town. You shuddered.

“The shadow monster,” Dustin clarified for those of you that weren’t privy, still not quite sure what Mike was going on about.

“It got Will that day in the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”

“And so this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max chimed in.

“To the tunnels, to the monsters, to the Upside Down. Everything,” Mike emphasized.

“Woah, slow down, slow down,” Steve spoke up, clearly not following the boy’s line of reasoning.

“The shadow monster’s inside everything. And if the vines feel something, like pain, then so does Will,” Mike explained.

“And so does Dart,” you added, following.

“Yeah, it’s like what Mr. Clarke taught us about the hive mind,” Mike confirmed as he looked at Lucas and Dustin.

“Hive mind?” Steve asked. Goodness gracious this boy was stupid, you thought, taking a deep breath to avoid snapping at him.

“A collective consciousness. It’s a super-organism,” you explained. The boys looked at you in awe, impressed that you also knew about this shit. Maybe you were more of a nerd than you thought.

“And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain,” Mike pointed at the picture in your hands.

“Like the mind flayer!” Dustin exclaimed. The three boys shared a knowing look, leaving you, Steve, and Max in the dark. Dustin scoured the house, locating a book and slamming it down on the table. Hopper and Nancy had joined the kitchen after all the commotion, interested in knowing what had the kids so worked up.

“The mind flayer,” Dustin repeated.

Hopper looked at him exasperated. He didn’t have time for these kids pulling some imaginary bullshit. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know it’s true home. It enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers,” Dustin explained.

“None of this is real,” Hopper groaned.

“Yeah, Dustin, this is a kids’ game,” you added incredulously.

“No, it’s a manual…and it’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor for understanding whatever the hell this is,” Dustin defended himself.

“Okay, so this mind flamer thing—“ Nancy started, trying to understand.

“Flayer,” Dustin corrected.

“—flayer—what does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Oh, uh, like the Germans,” Steve stammered, trying to understand via his own metaphor. You all looked at him in disbelief.

“Uh, the nazis?” Dustin corrected and Steve nodded in agreement, “if the nazis were from a different dimension, then totally. It views other races like us as inferior.”

“Yeah, and it wants to spread to other dimensions,” Mike added.

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas emphasized.

You felt the anxiety creep back up, and all of this was way too overwhelming. How the hell were you supposed to fight something that had control over an expansive and complex army?

“This is just great, this is fantastic!” Steve groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped away. You made your way out of the kitchen, connecting the dots well enough to not need any further explanation. Steve followed you, wanting to make sure you were okay.

“This is insane, Steve,” you breathed out. “We’re not talking about just one demogorgon anymore. Not even a couple. This is a whole fucking army. Imagine the carnage! We can’t fucking do this! I can’t fucking do this!” You began rambling as you quickly began to spiral. The fate of the world was in your hands and you couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Hey, hey, hey, chill out,” Steve sounded exasperated. He was just as tense and overwhelmed about the situation as you were, but ruminating over it didn’t help anything. “When you freak out about it, it just makes everything ten times harder, so just take a deep breath, think about something else, and chill the fuck out,” Steve reiterated. It was tough love, but it helped. He was right; stressing about it wasn’t going to change anything.

The conversation from the kitchen moved into the family room with you as Mike followed Hopper into the hall, “how are they supposed to stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike exclaimed, talking about Hopper’s military backup.

“We don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper argued.

“We know it’s already killed everyone in that lab,” Mike shot back.

“And we know the monsters are going to molt again,” Dustin added.

“And it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town,” you finally spoke up, your voice even. You were more confident now after Steve’s words. You might not be able to save the world, but you could damn sure try.

“They’re right,” Joyce joined you all, making her way down the hallway. She looked distraught, and your heart broke for her. “We have to kill this thing…I want to kill this thing.”

“Me too, me too, Joyce, but how do we do it? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here,” Hopper reminded her.

“No, but he does. If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it; he’ll know its weakness,” Mike spoke up.

“I thought he was a spy for the mind flayer now?” Max asked.

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

Everyone quickly got to work attempting to disguise the Byers’ shed so that it was unrecognizable to Will. You were outside, breaking down pieces of cardboard with Jonathan, while Nancy helped Steve hang tarps to cover the walls inside.

“So, you and Nancy?” You asked, getting deja vu to when you had asked Steve a very similar question during your car ride together that fateful day last November.

“What do you mean?” Jonathan was immediately defensive. You cocked your head to the side, shooting him a knowing look and chuckling before you spoke.

“Dude, it’s so obvious.”

“Well, what about you and Steve?” Jonathan fired back, aggressively ripping more cardboard.

“That is so not the same thing,” you whispered, hoping that Nancy and Steve didn’t hear him. The last thing you needed was to be on Nancy’s bad side. She was super badass and if she knew that things had been weird between you and her boyfriend (ex boyfriend?) you were sure there’d be hell to pay.

“I mean, it seems pretty similar to me,” Jonathan replied frustrated, “it doesn’t matter anyway; they’re not together anymore.”

“I mean, I know they argued, but I didn’t know they officially ended things,” you responded, doubtful of Jonathan’s words.

“Trust me. I know,” he remarked, saying the words with such finality that you could connect the dots to confirm that something had happened between the two of them. You dropped the subject, not wanting to piss Jonathan off further. After twenty more minutes of stapling and duct taping cardboard and newspapers to the walls of the shed, it was finally done, and everyone except for Hopper, Mike, Joyce, and Jonathan retreated to the inside of the Byers’ house.

There wasn’t much else to do other than wait, so you sat on the family room couch as Steve practiced his swing with the nail bat over and over and over again. It was weird, sitting and doing nothing while all of this was going on. You finally felt how tired your legs were from walking all throughout the’ woods and you really just wanted to take a nap.

“Did you put anymore thought into that essay?” You broke the silence as you asked Steve. His concentration broke as he stopped swinging the bat to look at you. The question caught him off guard and he wasn’t really sure what to say. What could he say? This had all been such a huge distraction that he hadn’t even really had the time to think about what his college essay should be about. Every time he thought about it, his mind would just go back to you and then he would push it aside.

“Uh, no. Not really, I mean…there’s kind of been a lot going on,” he chuckled, gesturing to the papers strewn about the house, a reminder of all of the shit you’d been through.

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” you replied, a bit bummed that your question hadn’t struck up a conversation like you had hoped it would; you hoped it would provide you an opportunity to be helpful in at least some capacity while you sat and twiddled your thumbs.

“What about you? What are your post grad plans?” He asked in return.

“You know, I’m honestly not really sure anymore,” you replied, your voice shrinking down into something meek and small.

“What do you mean? You work so damn hard all the time, I thought you had everything figured out,” Steve questioned. It was a red flag to him that you were expressing such uncertainty; it just didn’t make sense.

“I guess…I don’t know, it sounds stupid,” you prefaced, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of your vulnerability before continuing, “but I guess it just feels a bit futile to make these plans for the future when I don’t even know what that’s going to look like. I mean, I was always so set on going to college, but aside from the questions about feasibility—like can I afford it, will I get scholarships, how far can I go if I don’t have a car—I’m now starting to question if it’s something I even want to do. I mean, with all of this shit going on, who even knows if I’ll even live long enough to make it to—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! Y/n, we’re not doomsday prepping here. And if you think there’s a chance you’re not going to get a shit ton of scholarships, well then you’re not as smart as I thought you were…which now that I’m saying it, is a bit…a bit paradoxical but that’s besides the point. The point is, you’re gonna go to some fancy school—as far away as you want to go—collect a shit ton of degrees, and then you’re gonna live until you’re so old you forget how much a pain in the ass we all are.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You were glad that someone was in your corner. Your past self would have dropped dead if she knew it was Steve that was your biggest supporter. Sometimes you felt so lost in the shuffle, not having the social status to feel like your efforts really mattered—or that they were going to be rewarded. Life had a way of very distinctively not going your way, but it was nice to know that you at least had someone who believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself. Before you could get too sentimental about it, the lights started flashing like crazy and you could tell that Will had woken up.

It went on like that for several minutes, as you all moved to the front of the house, ready for whatever threat would find you. You jumped when Hopper burst through the door, grabbing a scrap sheet of paper and writing out morse code.

“What happened?” You were quick to ask.

“I think he’s talking, just not with words?” Jim replied. You all watched as he wrote out a series of dots and dashes, translating it as he wrote their corresponding letters.

“What is that?” Steve asked, confused by the mess of symbols on the page.

“Morse code,” you all replied in unison. He shrugged and you wondered for a moment if you’d truly been attending the same school. You looked at the paper, “HERE” spelled out, clear as day.

“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us,” Hopper explained. So then began the operation of translating Will’s messages. Mike, Joyce, and Jonathan in the shed sharing memories with him while Hopper clicked Will’s communication through the walkie talkie. Huddled around the kitchen table were the rest of you, cheat sheets and scrap paper in hand, as you received Will’s message, letter by letter.

When Nancy wrote down the last letter, you all leaned over to read what Will had covertly been able to communicate to you.

“Close gate,” you all read. Suddenly the phone rang, and you all froze for a second. It was a dead giveaway that Will was still at his house. Dustin quickly scrambled to hang it up, but it rang again, likely Hopper’s military backup. You ran beside him, ripping the phone from the wall and tossing it across the room.

“Do you think he heard that?” Max asked hesitantly.

“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere, right?” Steve added, trying to quell the anxiety permeating around the room, the air thick with worry. Steve was proved wrong, when Hopper came flying through the back door with his rifle, grabbing another gun as he shouted at all of you.

“Hey! Hey, get away from the windows!” He pulled the kids away from the front of the room. “Can you use this?” He held his gun out to Jonathan. The boy stammered in response, and Him didn’t have time for this. “I said, can you use this?”

“I can,” Nancy spoke up and you felt a bit relieved that she would have the gun. You trusted her with a gun more than anyone else, glad that it was her and not you. Everyone who had weapons held them up, aiming them towards the door. You gripped your knife tightly; this was a fight you were going to finish.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you heard the familiar screeching and chattering of the demogorgons outside of the house. It kept getting closer and closer, and your jaw set as you tried to focus your energy on the task at hand. You knew that after this, you were going to fall apart, and you just hoped that someone would be there to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly, the screeching stopped and a demo-dog—as Dustin had so idiotically coined them—came crashing through the glass of the window, falling in a heap on the family room floor. Dead.

“Holy shit,” Dustin whispered and you couldn’t help but agree. Holy shit was right, this was fucking insane.

You all turned as you heard noise by the front door. You reached up and grasped the back of Steve’s shirt out of fear, as the locks were undone from outside. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes, but you had seen a lot weirder shit, so this was pretty tame in comparison. Despite how ready you had been earlier, in the face of the impending threat, your confidence started to falter, as you pressed yourself up against Steve in hopes that holding on to him would make you feel more secure.

The door slowly swung open, and in stepped a girl about the same age as the other kids, her short hair slicked back, dark makeup applied around her eyes. Everyone lowered their weapons, Steve going to put an arm around you, squeezing your arm. You realized that this must be Eleven, the girl with the telepathic abilities that Dustin had told you about. Mike swiftly stepped forward to hug her as she burst into tears. Your heart broke for her; you couldn’t imagine what it was like to be someone’s science experiment for your whole life.

Hopper stepped forward to pull the girl in for a hug and that was when you all connected the dots that he had been hiding her since she disappeared last year. You were shocked, but not as shocked as Mike.

And he was mad.

***

Hopper had calmed Mike down, leading to a very long discussion of how you were able to kill this mind flayer without hurting Will in the process. Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce had left with Will to steam the mind flayer out of him so that Hopper could take Eleven back to Hawkins Lab to close the gate.

That left you and Steve in charge of the four remaining kids…which really just made you want to cry. Because now your babysitting consisted of Dustin throwing all of the food from the Byers’ fridge onto the floor while Steve shoved a dead monster from an unknown dimension into it. And you weren’t even getting paid for it.

“Fine, but you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers,” Steve reluctantly agreed, holding the demogorgon like a damn baby before the boys worked together to slam the fridge closed. Good riddance, you thought as it disappeared from view. Steve put his hand on the boy’s head, jostling his hat, before turning away from the fridge. The sight would’ve been endearing if they hadn’t just bonded over a dead monster that had almost tried to kill you.

Mike began pacing back and forth, frustrated that you were all stuck at Will’s instead of helping Eleven close the gate. The kids swiftly started arguing over it and you pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to take another second of their bickering.

“Would you all just shut the fuck up? Please?” You begged, but no one listened. Steve noticed your frustration and tried to help in the best way he knew how: with a sports metaphor.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in the game, bottom line, you execute it, alright?”

“First of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the bench,” Mike argued. You sighed at how little Steve had thought this through. He noticed you glaring at him and tried and failed to salvage what he could of his life lesson to the impressionable young children.

“So…so yeah, my point is…” he stammered, and you all watched him expectantly as he paused. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not exactly true. When we were at the bus, the demo-dogs got called away,” Dustin reminded you all.

“So if we get their attention, maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max continued.

“Clear a path to the gate,” you chimed in. Steve looked at you, betrayed. He needed you to back him up on this otherwise this babysitting shit wasn’t going to work.

“Uh, yeah. And then we all die!” Steve threw his hands up in exasperation.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin argued.

“That is not a point of view, man, that is a fact.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s a fact or a point of view, the point is, it’s still dangerous,” you added, coming to your senses. There was no way you could attract these monsters without someone getting hurt. You’d rather be on the bench than lose a teammate to a career ending injury. Fucking hell, I hate these sports metaphors. Who am I?

“I got it! This is where the chief dug his hole and it’s our way into the tunnels,” Mike explained, showing you a spot on Will’s map, “right here, this is a hub, it connects to all the other tunnels. Maybe if we set this on fire—“

“Yeah, that’s a no!” Steve yelled.

“The mind flayer would call away his army. They’d come to stop us,” Dustin continued.

“We circle back to the exit, by the time they realize we’re gone—“ Mike started.

“El would be at the gate,” Max finished his thought.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve clapped to draw the kids out of their batshit crazy plans. “This is not fucking happening.”

“But—“

“No, no, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here—on the bench—and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?”

“This isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike shot back, annoyed that his sister’s now ex boyfriend was trying to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.

“I said, does everybody understand that?” Steve seemed scary, and honestly it was kind of a turn on. You didn’t mind him telling you what to do if he looked that damn hot doing it. You tried to shake the thought away, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the way he seemed so paternal. He was stepping up as a babysitter and you couldn’t be prouder.

“I need a yes,” you added when none of the children responded, trying to demonstrate to Steve that you were on his team. While Steve was scary, Dustin still thought you were a thousand times scarier, even though you’d only said four words. Before Dustin could open his mouth to speak, you were all distracted by an engine revving outside.

Max ran to the window, recognizing the car as her heart leapt to her throat. “That’s my brother. He can’t know we’re here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us!” Max rambled, clearly intimidated by her step brother. You went to put an arm on the girl’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

“Don’t worry about it Max, I’ll handle it. I promise,” you told the girl as you stepped towards the door.

“Uh uh. No way. Not happening,” Steve pulled you behind him a bit aggressively as he had recognized the plates from sunny California, connecting the dots to figure that Max had the misfortune of being related to the biggest asshole he had ever met. Before you could protest, he swiftly exited the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked with a shit eating grin on his face, stepping out of his car.

“Yeah it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

“What are you doing here amigo?” Billy asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve replied, wanting to give him as little information as possible.

“Looking for my step sister. A little birdie told me she was here. Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?”

“Sorry doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I don’t know, this whole situation, Harrington, is giving me a bit of the heebie-jeebies. My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day and I find her with you at a stranger’s house, and you lie to me about it.”

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child? I told you, she’s not here,” Steve was surprised he was able to keep his voice even. He was face to face with Billy and all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of him. He had been an ass to you and clearly Max was afraid of him too, so he deserved to have the shit kicked out of him. All things considered, Steve thought he was being pretty damn civil.

“Then who is that?” Billy asked, pointing his cigarette at the window. Steve turned around and watched as all four kids ducked out of view. Where the fuck were you when all of this was happening?

“Oh shit,” he whispered before turning back around to face Billy, “Listen—“

His explanation was cut off when Billy shoved him to the ground. “I told you to plant your feet,” he seethed, kicking Steve in the stomach before entering the house.

When Billy slammed open the door, there you were, in a protective stance in front of the kids, slowly backing them towards the kitchen. “What the fuck is this, y/n?” He approached you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you were scared out of your mind. But in that moment, all that mattered was those kids, as you took a step towards Billy, chin up.

“And look who it is, Lucas Sinclair,” he added, looking past you. He turned to Max, “you disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me…I break things.” He lunged to grab Lucas but you shoved him back enough to knock him off kilter, redirecting his focus as he grabbed the collar of your windbreaker instead, forcing you into a corner of the room. Your shoulders tensed up and you froze, struggling as you attempted to pry yourself out of his grip.

“Y/n, I’ve gotta say. I’m disappointed. I’ve been nothing but nice to you and this—” he dropped your collar, hand shooting to grab your wrist to prevent you from moving away as he gestured to his sister, “—this is how you repay me?”

“Let me go!” You seethed as you kicked him where it hurt. He groaned as he backed up, but it wasn’t enough room for you to escape. He slapped you across the face, grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming you back against the wall. He threw another punch to your face and your nose began to gush blood, most likely broken.

“You bitch! You’re dead!” He shouted, pulling you towards him to slam you into the wall again, when Steve suddenly grabbed his arm.

“No. You are,” he said before throwing a solid punch at Billy. You fell to the floor, grateful you were in the kitchen as you reached for a towel to hold up to your nose. He doubled over before twisting back up to face Steve, cackling with a wide smile on his face. He was absolutely insane, as you sat horrified. You wanted to get up, help Steve, say anything, but you were struggling to keep your eyes open as you began to hyperventilate.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about,” Billy stepped towards him again.

“Get the fuck out,” Steve warned, pushing him away. There was a moment of stillness in the kitchen before Billy swung at Steve, but he ducked at the last minute, throwing another punch back that landed at Billy’s temple. He backed up and the kitchen erupted into a chorus of cheers for Steve to fuck Billy up as Steve threw another punch.

Steve’s advantage didn’t last for long, as Billy grabbed a dinner plate, breaking it over Steve’s head. Steve moved back into the family room, clutching his head as Billy followed him, throwing a punch that knocked Steve off balance.

“No one tells me what to do,” Billy seethed, shoving Steve to the ground before getting on top of him throwing punch after punch his way. Seeing Steve hurt gave you the strength you needed to stand up. You wobbled slightly, grabbing the golf club from your backpack and heading over to the family room where Steve was getting the shit beat out of him.

You swung back, your vision blurred as you attempted to line up your swing. You didn’t want to kill the boy, but you did want to incapacitate him, and there seemed to be a very fine line between those things when you could barely see straight to swing with accuracy. Billy must have seen you in his peripheral as he swiftly stood, Steve long passed out, and grabbed the club from your hand. Your eyes fluttered as you attempted to stay standing, wanting to crumble under Billy’s wild gaze. He shoved you to the floor, your head hitting the ground hard. Your ears were ringing as he got on top of you, pinning your hands down beside your head. A tear escaped your eye as the ringing stopped and he got dangerously close to your ear to whisper in it.

“You should’ve just been a good girl and listened on Halloween.”

A small cry escaped your lips as he grabbed your shoulders and slammed you into the ground again. Your eyes were fluttering shut, but the last thing you saw was Max appear behind the boy, a needle plunging deep into Billy’s neck. He shouted out in pain as Max administered the sedative, Billy standing up to face her. You wanted to say something, anything, stand up to protect the young girl, wrapped up in fighting these monsters even though she lived with one.

You wanted to fight for her, but she disappeared as the world went dark.

***

Steve woke up in the backseat of a car, double vision making it hard to make out anything in the dark. He saw someone holding a can of gasoline and thought the features seemed familiar.

“Nancy?” He croaked out. But as his vision cleared, he was met with the confused gaze of Mike Wheeler. He felt a deep pain in his face and he went up to feel his nose, which was undoubtedly broken, when a hand pushed his away.

“No, don’t touch it,” he heard Dustin’s voice, turning to look him in the eyes “Hey, buddy. It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.” At least the boy was honest, but couldn’t he at least sugarcoat it a little bit?

The rest of his body started to wake up, and that was when he noticed the weight across his chest, lifting his head which ached in such an indescribable way, to notice you, brightly covered band-aids littering your bruised and battered face, unconscious on top of him.

He heard Lucas giving the driver directions and that was when it all clicked for him and his mind finally showed up. If you were unconscious then who was driving the fucking car?!

“Oh my god!” Steve choked out causing you to stir. His hands grabbed onto you as groaned, eyes slowly fluttering open.

You came to much faster than Steve had, pretty much immediately noticing that Max was driving the car. “What the fuck!” You exclaimed, attempting to sit up, but Dustin pushed you back into Steve.

“Just relax. She’s driven before,” Dustin assured you.

“Yeah, in a parking lot,” Mike shot back, clearly not happy about this plan either.

“That counts!” Lucas chimed in from the passenger seat.

“Oh my god,” Steve repeated gripping onto you tighter.

“They were going to leave you behind. I promised that you’d be cool!” Dustin told him, trying to convince him to behave.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what’s going on?” He yelled out as Max accelerated. “Ohhhh, woah! No! Stop the car, slow down!” He yelled and you shrieked as you buried your face in his neck. His arm instinctively curled around your waist, holding you tight against his body.

“I told you he’d freak out!” Mike yelled, annoyed that they hadn’t just left him behind. To be honest, he knew you’d freak out too but he couldn’t in good conscience leave you there. Especially if Billy woke up.

“Stop the car!” You screamed, but it was slightly muffled as you were unwilling to leave the safe haven that was Steve’s neck, head still buried there as if your life depended on it.

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max shouted.

“Make a left! Make a left!” Lucas shouted pointing at the turn Max was about to pass up. She cut it hard, the inertia throwing you all to the right of the car, as Steve squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his other arm around you as he held onto you with all his might. Max, swerved as she attempted to regain control of the vehicle, taking out a mailbox in the process. Well, that’s a felony, you thought as she continued on. You’d faced monsters of unimaginable terror and this was how you were going to go out: in the backseat of a car with a child at the wheel.

After several more minutes that felt like hours of reckless driving, the car screeched to a halt at the opening of the tunnel Hopper had dug into. “I told you. Zoomer,” Max exclaimed confidently from the front seat.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You cried out, done with this hellish car ride. The kids all swiftly made their way out of the car, you and Steve having a bit more trouble. Neither of you were able to gain your footing too quickly, as you stumbled into him. He caught you, allowing you to brace yourself against him as you righted yourself.

“Oh no, guys!” Steve groaned, “hey! Where do you think you’re going?” He added as Dustin made his way over to the opening of the tunnel, can of gasoline in hand. “We are not going down there! I made myself clear!”

No one was listening as the kids all moved around the two of you, grabbing supplies and preparing for their descent. “Hey! There is no chance we’re going in that hole, alright? This ends right now!” He moved away from you gripping the backpack out of the trunk before Dustin could grab it.

“Steve! You’re upset, I get it. But bottom line is a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance you’d keep us safe, so keep us safe,” Dustin emphasized the end as he held out Steve’s backpack and tossed you your sheathed blade.

Donning bandanas and goggles, you and Steve descended into the tunnel before the rest of the kids.

“It’s this way!” Mike announced, following his crudely drawn map. Steve snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey, I don’t think so. If any of you shits die down here, I’m getting the blame, got it dipshit? From here on out I’m leading the way. Come on let’s go!” He yelled. You joined him at the front of the group to talk to him as the kids formed their own group in the rear to talk.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you apologized. He turned to look at you and you wished you could see his face to determine the look on it.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, shocked that you would even think that was necessary.

“It’s just, you stopped Billy from hitting me and then he beat the shit out of you. So I’m sorry because that should’ve been me,” you answered him, your eyes welling up with tears. You willed yourself not to cry. The last thing you needed was these dumbass swim goggles filling with water.

“I’m fucking glad it wasn’t you y/n. And I’m not gonna let him touch you ever again, okay? I promise.”

You nodded, too choked up to trust your voice as you continued down the tunnels. You pushed away the anxiety you were feeling about getting lost, trusting that the map the kids had drawn was correct. It took a while but finally the tunnels opened up and you saw countless other ones that fed to this location.

“I think we found your hub,” you exclaimed taking in the sight. It was pretty insane to look at and you couldn’t quite believe that all of this was here in Hawkins.

“Let’s drench it,” Mike replied, ready to kill the fucking thing; hit it where it hurt. You all poured gasoline all around the hub, the smell almost nauseating, making you glad you had the bandana around your face. When it was all finally said and done, you all retreated to the tunnel that you came from, facing your gasoline soaked work.

“Alright. Are you ready?” Steve asked.

“Light her up,” you replied.

“I am in such deep shit,” Steve added before sparking his lighter and tossing it into the hub. It erupted into flames and your mind flashed back to the fire Jonathan had set last year in his hallway, burning the demogorgon that had nearly killed you.

“Go, go, go!” Steve yelled, the kids running ahead of you as you and Steve took up the rear this time, wanting to make sure that if all else failed, the kids got out. You ran through the tunnels as swiftly as you could, attempting not to trip on the vines scattered haphazardly across the ground. Suddenly, Mike began screaming for help as you realized a vine had wrapped around his ankle, pulling him to the floor.

“Everybody back!” You yelled as you unsheathed your knife, slashing the vine and releasing Mike from its grip. He stood and you geared up to continue your way through the tunnels, when you came face to face with one of the demo-dogs.

“Dart?” Dustin asked. You all screamed at Dustin to get back but he didn’t listen. “Trust me. Hey it’s me. It’s your friend, Dustin. You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

The demogorgon opened its mouth to shriek at him and you were about to lunge forward to grab Dustin, but Steve stopped you.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry about the cellar. You hungry?” Dustin asked reaching into his backpack, pulling out a three musketeers. “I’ve got our favorite! Nougat,” he unwrapped the candy placing it in front of the demogorgon waving all of you to go ahead of him. You hesitated but finally listened, going against all instinct and trusting that the boy might know what he’s doing.

You all finally made your way back to the rope when the ground began to shake and you heard the shrieking of demogorgons in the distance. They were coming, and they were coming fast.

Steve lifted up each kid, boosting them up so they could climb the rope and exit the tunnels, until it was just you and him. They were gaining on you and there was no time. Steve had his bat ready to swing, and you braced for impact knowing that there was nothing the two of you could do to stop the dozens of demo-dogs that were inevitably coming. You shut your eyes, hearing the growl of the demogorgons and the cries from the kids above you, but the impact never came instead, you clutched Steve to keep your balance, as the demo-dogs sprinted past you, headed somewhere else.

You chuckled in disbelief, hugging Steve, burying your face in his chest as his hand went to the nape of your neck. You both swayed like that for a moment, holding each other in relief before the kids broke the magic of the moment.

“Hey lovebirds! We need to get out of here!” Dustin yelled down the hole.

Those damn kids.

***

Steve agreed to drive Dustin to the Snowball, and you begged to go with. Despite all of the bullshit he’d put you through, you loved the kid more than you loved most things, and you weren’t going to miss the opportunity to see him all dressed up for this school dance.

“Alright, buddy. Here we are,” Steve said as he pulled up to Hawkins Middle. “Just remember, go in there—“

“And pretend I don’t care.”

“There you go. You’re learning, my friend,” Steve smiled and you rolled your eyes from the backseat. Dustin leaned forward to check the visor mirror, but Steve slammed it back shut before he could open it.

“Hey, come on. You look great, okay? You’re gonna go in there—you look like a million bucks—and you’re gonna slay ‘em dead, okay?”

“Like a lion,” Dustin replied, rolling his r’s in a weird purr that had you cringing behind him.

“Yeah, don’t do that, okay?” Steve warned and Dustin nodded. “Good luck,” he added as he shook Dustin’s hand before Dustin exited the car, making his way into the gym.

You moved to the front seat a wide grin on your face. “That was sweet,” you told Steve and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, freak,” Steve grumbled.

“Hey, that’s a good thing you know,” you reminded him as he began to pull away, making his way back towards his house. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying at yours again?” You asked. You two were beginning to blur the line between friends and something more.

“Yeah, yeah! Of course. I wouldn’t want to go home to an empty house after all of that shit either,” Steve told you, though most days he did go home to an empty house, his parents on various different business trips. Your parents just worked nights occasionally, and every once in a while they coincided. Since Eleven closed the gate, even though things were better, you still weren’t too keen on staying home alone, so you’d made it a habit to stay at Steve’s, so long as his parents were gone (which they usually were).

Steve wasn’t going to complain. And he definitely wasn’t going to tell you no. He wanted more than anything to be there for you and if company was what you needed, he made damn sure he could provide it. Plus, you still shared a bed with him when you stayed the night.

As Steve looked at you, moonlight hitting your face and making all your features look soft as you hummed and nodded along to the music on the radio, he knew he wasn’t going to write that damn college essay. College wasn’t really for him, and deep down he’d always known it.

And besides, he wasn’t quite ready to leave you yet.

***

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this part! I’m excited to start writing for season 3! Comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! I’d love to know what you think ;)

[melodic-haze]

you’re cooking so hard w those fics,,, may I request some sub clorinde?

one of the scenarios in the fic can be where she wears a vibrator on her shift 🙏 (semi-public ofc)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Clorinde x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: semi-public 🫶, use of toys (the vibe's silly and magical bc this is a magical world and I can do what I want), consensual sexual corruption

☆ — NOTES: Why is this so long anyway DUDE THANK YOU 🙏🙏🙏🙏 I try my best to hashtag serve the cuntry. I somehow brought Navia into it as well I hope you don't mind 😭😭😭 NOT in the pair though, just like a chunk of the post ig

Ohhh my god Clorinde looks SOOOO fun to toy with 🫶🫶🫶 your MIND anon

She takes her job so seriously but when she's off the clock she's so silly she's so unserious like just LOOK at her with Navia???? I love her

I think you two joke around when it's just the two of you in the comfort of your own home when the whole matter pops up. Maybe she's like prepping dinner for the two of you (if you can cook as well you probably have a rotation) as it happens

It was therapeutic, watching Clorinde practically glide around the kitchen in such an organised manner. She often said that her skills as the Champion Duelist and her skills as a home chef were synonymous together in multiple ways, though despite her meaning it as a jest her proficiency with both activities was undoubtedly unmatched. She said you were a bit biased too, but you paid no heed.

"..You look so much more relaxed here, compared to when you're out for work," you muse as you observed her.

To which she looks up at you momentarily before looking back down at the vegetables she was chopping up, her speed and efficiency not slipping up in any way despite the light distraction, "A guard cannot necessarily be seen as.. well, whimsical in order to be taken seriously."

"Yeah, but you're THE Champion Duelist. Surely that allows you some form of leeway towards having to act all serious every time."

"I'm afraid not, mon ange." She shakes her head with a small smile, "What brought this up all of a sudden?"

You shrugged, "I dunno. I guess whenever I see you around, I always see you so.. focused and stoic."

"You mean to say I'm boring when we are outside?"

"You aren't? But you could do with some loosening up."

She looks up again with an amused eyebrow raise, "Between the two of us, my body is much more limber compared to yours."

"You ass!" You scoffed, crossing your arms in mock annoyance, "Go back to cutting carrots instead of taking potshots at me."

"Taking shots is my specialty, though? And I was already done with the task."

"Clorinde!"

The electro wielder chuckled lightly before moving to pour the vegetable mix into the pan, "Still, I fail to see your point."

"My point is," you push yourself off the wall you had been leaning on and move closer to your girlfriend, "I wanna see you all cute during your job at least once."

"Am I not 'cute' enough for you?"

"You are! But I feel like I should be intimidated too. Because, you know, I don't really want to be put in the spotlight for some kinda crime."

"Uh huh. Say I do agree with you then; what do you propose I do?" She is genuinely curious at first, but when she sees you smile the way you do that's when she gets suspicious, "..I know that look, mon cœur. You want to do something risqué."

You hum as if pondering your next response while your arms wrap around her waist, though with the way she turns around with a knowing look and a swift move of turning the stove strength all the way down, you know that she doesn't believe that innocent bout of 'thinking' one bit.

"Do I? You really think so?"

"I know so." And she leans to kiss your cheek, "My skills in observation combined with my knowledge of your every habit isn't useless, you know.

"Hmm... Well, then." Your fingers snuck underneath the fabric of her shirt and traced nonsensical shapes on her skin as you spoke, "I did find something—an item—that could help you.. de-stress during work."

You know she took the hint when you looked her vibrant purple eyes. Perhaps you could've sworn them glow like the element she has command over.

But when she asks you of it—

"And what may this.. item be?"

—you both know full well that that is the only thing she has control over when you're involved.

When she finds out that you want to stuff a vibrator in her for the whole day as she works, she has to give herself time to process it. Like, really? While she's supposed to stay vigilant in case something wrong happens??? Like be serious wth is she gonna do when she's all dumb and distracted and something goes awfully wrong??????

All you say is that while you'd wanna try it out to see what happens, you won't force her to do so.........and against her better judgement, she takes it back. Not only does she want to make you happy and that she wants to prove that she isn't a coward, she.. is a little (a lot) interested in what may happen. Plus "it will prove to be somewhat of a fun challenge", she says, which yk whatever works for her

She learns to regret that come (lmao) the next day when it's actually put into practice

You found this specific vibe from a wandering seller, you see. Powered by a mix of different elements and with the usage of their reactions, it came in a pair—one that was now deep inside her and the other in your pocket, ready for you to hold onto and simply think on the intensity of the bullet's vibrations and effects

Its control range was rather far too, so it's not as if you even had to be in the city to control it. You wanted to see how she deals with such a situation though, so the most you do is carry on with your day instead of constantly following her around (but you do bump into her 'on accident' quite a few times though)

At first it starts out relatively fine for her. It's a manageable feeling, with it interchanging between a weak pace to something slightly faster—she can ignore it with her masterful discipline. Hell, she's even thinking that you might actually be taking it easy on her bc of her earlier concerns which.. how nice of you!!!

Except she's WRONG❗️❗️❗️ You're not being nice, you're biding your time. She probably should've been suspicious but she trusted you unconditionally which would be so cute and flattering at any other moment.........but right now it was so deliciously naive of her, to just let her guard down with you like that

You're slowly but surely testing the waters by playing with the intensity beyond its lowest settings; having it slowly incline nd decline, making it spike up, even manipulating the pattern of its vibrations within your mind. And you can tell that every mental command is successfully transferred when the gem you hold pulses with a faint feeling of warmth that passes after a very brief moment

You can't see her half the time whenever you're off doing something else but maybe that's what makes it better, especially when you see her and you make a point to keep out of her line of sight. She looks around for you like a frazzled animal that's trying to seem composed and yet you know she's becoming anything but from the way she subtly jolts to attention every time you change the vibe's directions, all endearingly paranoid over what you do next as you change the settings again and again and again

Despite the risk and the paranoia and everything though? As much as she wants to deny it, there is an ever increasing pool of arousal in her panties. It's not just from the vibrator, however—it's from the possible risk of getting caught partaking in the sinful act of walking around with a sex toy stuffed inside of her. She can't believe it, but the thrill of the risk and the overthinking is definitely not doing her any favours in terms of trying to keep calm

It's when she has a certain exchange that has her ABSOLUTELY ruined. She had spotted Navia during one of her breaks the same time that the other had clocked onto her too. The head of the Spina di Rosula walked up to her with a smile and a friendly greeting and in no time at all, they get to talking the minutes away

Catching up to Navia again without such dreadful tension from before was definitely a relief. It was as if they had chatted about everything and nothing at all at the same time, with the both of them laughing lightly. The exchange was certainly a welcome distraction, both from her job and the bullet-shaped vibrator that hit and teased her sensitive spots every now and again—you had definitely become braver as time went on, but you weren't going to break her composure just yet.

..Or well, really, she realised that she probably shouldn't have given it any thought when her eyes see you watching her at a distance. She trails off in the midst of her sentence as time seemed to slow to a stop when your lips curl up into an all-too-familiar expression.

Before Navia can even ask her if she's okay or try to break her out of her sudden reverie, Clorinde flinches and almost keels over at the sudden EXTREME increase of speed and force and-- is that a temperature increase too? She doesn't react quietly either—she bites back a yelp, managing a strangled gasp instead. Was this what you were aiming for the entire time? To build it all up until the most inopportune time??

Navia was undoubtedly worried, her hands immediately dropping her parasol to hold her friend steady, "Clorinde?! What happened? Are you hurt?"

The duelist shook her head in an attempt to clear her head but the ever-shifting movement inside her didn't allow that. So instead she tried her best to answer as unaffected as possible, despite her seemingly dramatic display, "Yes, I-- mm.. I'm alright. Just a sudden migraine, is all. Perhaps I've been-- working too hard."

"Whatever did I tell you about working yourself to the bone," the blonde asks, though she doesn't look fully convinced that it's just a migraine, "maybe you should retire for the day. I can tell your--"

"No! It's alright," she rushes out, "I will be fine after some time, you need not worry about me."

"But--"

"Do you not think I can handle myself?"

"I do, but if a migraine gets you such a violent reaction, then surely that's a cause for concern. Are friends not allowed to be worried for each other?"

They are, except this isn't really a migraine she's suffering from!!

(She doesn't know whether she loves or hates the fact that her not being able to say anything about her predicament to her good friend gets her going even more.)

"She probably needs a little rest, somewhere where the sun isn't hitting her eyes."

"Y/N!"

Clorinde looks to you approaching behind the blonde and making yourself known with a happy greeting and she can't help but narrow her eyes at you despite the vibrator in her cunt trying to take all her focus away from her.. or maybe it was due to exactly that, to which your smile widens just a tad further at the effect you have on her.

"Yes, that would be a good place for me to recover. In fact," she keeps her eyes on you as she speaks, "they can take it-- mnf.. take it here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, no need to worry. I will talk to you again s-- ..soon, Navia."

Soon enough, you all part ways (you with Clorinde in tow), leaving a very confused and suspicious Navia alone where you once stood. Neither of you say anything, though as you both reach a deserted alley somewhere, sun blocked by the towering buildings around you, that's when she snaps.

And it is such a lovely thing to witness.

By snapping, I don't mean that she cums right away. I mean she's all over you, gloved hands grasping onto your body and hastily pleading for you to finally help her take the edge off

You're so absolutely mean for doing what you did!!! She says she regrets ever saying yes to this plan and entertaining you like this, to which you laugh at her face. Sure, it would've been a cruel reaction to her distress.. if she weren't so addled with lust; her eyes dark and pupils blown wide, her panties unbelievably wet

It gets worse when you whisper things to her as well such as "you definitely enjoyed it" and "do you think Navia knew? Would you have wanted her to know?" bc even when she shakes her head vehemently and denies it, you can feel her pussy pulsing as you taunt her.........

But then you pull your hand back and Clorinde's looking at you in a mix of frustration and confusion, a complete far cry from her ever-so-composed demeanour on a normal day

She asks you why. Does she need to beg even more? Do you want her to do anything else? She needs this but she's also very aware you're still outside, despite this corner of the area being practically abandoned, so it both gives her a thrill AND a sense of urgency

Your answer? Not one she expected, but should have probably saw coming from a mile away: you want her to cum with the toy and herself only. She's right, this IS still a public space.. so obviously such close proximity would be VERY suspicious, right? And nobody would be able to see the toy buzzing in her, so surely it'd be the best solution

She tries to protest, but you don't budge. Hell, threaten to turn it off for the rest of the day and she'll keel over and do exactly what you ask her to do

So you manipulate the vibrator, up close and personal this time, and you relish in the restricted moans and desperate breaths she lets out as she essentially fucks herself in the alleyway with your help. As the vibe bends to your will within her in different ways, she took her glove off one of her hands with her teeth in a desperate attempt to not dirty her visible clothing before her now-ungloved hand darts into her panties to rub her clit and pleasure herself to you

It's not long when she practically explodes as the setting goes the highest it's ever been, her orgasm SO intense that it has her seeing stars and actually dropping to the ground if it weren't for you immediately rushing over to catch her on time (and maybe you get a light shock of electro too, much to your chagrin, but really it's technically your fault so 🤷‍♀️). You use the control gem to help her with her high, slowly decreasing its intensity until the after-shock is reduced to a few twitches from her here and there

She's practically a lifeless form for a few mins and you can't help but laugh at the situation. She lifts her head up, absolutely unimpressed at your amusement, though a small smile makes her way onto her lips anyway

When she's gained enough strength to hold herself up without falling (mostly bc you whine after a while ab how she's heavy, to which she slaps you up in the head lightly and tells you it's your fault lmao), you both make sure she looks presentable enough to actually go back in public again. You asked her if she wanted to skip instead but she's so duty-bound that she doesn't gaf if she feels fucked-out, she WILL continue her duties

But like. Let's be real though. Esp when you told her she could take the toy out bc you're more than satisfied but she wanted to actually keep it in? You both know that not only will you both have a round two of sorts when you get back home, but this won't necessarily be the last time you'll use this toy after today

You could say she found a love for it 🤷‍♀️ not like she'd ever explicitly admit it when she's not all dumbed out for you in the comfort of your own home

She doesn't even really need to, not with that display earlier

[antimatterz]

i'm in a field of dandelions

dan heng x gn!reader

summary: surrounded by dandelions, you're in a garden of wishes. but your biggest wish is already next to you.

cw: fluff, pure fluff.

enyo's note: just a short drabble for my beloved dan heng. i'm so so so soft for him, and let's be fair, he's secretly just as soft for us <3.

content under the cut | masterlist

even the softest whisp of wind was enough to set the dandelion seeds to dance through the air. like white and fluffy parachutes, they fluttered around you, occasionally getting stuck in your hair while others landed around you in the tall grass. soon, new flowers would spring into bloom all anew.

delight coursed through your being as you danced with them, arms spread wide and the breeze gliding between your fingers. you felt free, unbound. you closed your eyes as you relished in the moment, wrapped in the fading light of the setting sun. what a serene evening it was, surrounded by countless possible wishes that cascaded on the breeze.

wasn't it a beautiful legend? set the seeds free upon the wind and they carried with you a wish made by your heart. it had always fascinated you, and from a very young age, you've made a myriad of wishes while gazing at the seeds afloat.

smiling fondly, you delicately plucked a flower and held it up towards the sky. the dandelion swayed in the breeze, stirred by the wind that pulled over the field. as a child, bearing a rich fantasy, you never struggled to find something to wish for. but your desired nothing as you gazed at the flower, and no wish was made as it let go of its seeds after a strong gust of wind.

after all, your biggest wish already came true.

a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and your smile grew as you leaned into the embrace. a chaste kiss was pressed to your cheek, lips lingering against your skin lovingly.

"hello, angel," a calm voice greeted you, and you didn't heed it possible for your smile to grow even wider.

you placed your hands atop of dan heng's, and you stood like that for a blissful moment. the flowers danced around you in a rhythm only known to them, guided by the summer breeze that traversed the greenfields.

but a wish came to mind – sweet, altogether with its simplicity, yet one that would make your heart flutter. you distanced yourself from your boyfriend, turning around to face him with a playful and joyous smile. you dramatically bent down, exaggerating your every movement grandously. you gently took a dandelion between your fingertips and took it with you as you got back up.

happily, you presented it to dan heng, who had to stifle a smile upon witnessing your gleeful antics. but he failed to do so, the corners of his mouth tilting up ever so gently.

"i wish..." you began, inhaling deeply before blowing the dandelion seeds off their stem. you watched together how they climbed the breeze upon their release, darting around you friskily. then, your eyes sought dan heng, and you giggled softly. "i wish that you'd kiss me in the light of the setting sun."

dan heng merely looked at you for a moment, an amused glint in his solemn grey eyes as he feigned seriousness.

"you know your wish won't come true if you speak them aloud, don't you?" he asked earnestly, barely succeeding to preserve his placid mask.

you offered him a slight pout, and your expression elicited a little chuckle from the male opposite of you. regardless of his words, he came closer to you. his hands found your cheeks in a gentle caress as his lips met yours, making your wish come true. though it was short, it lacked nothing in sweetness and tenderness, the serenity of the evening unblemished.

dan heng smiled at you ever so softly, a rare occurence, which only happened when he was in your company. your heart swelled with love, as it had many times before ever since he came into your life.

on a fateful day in a past long gone, you had stood there on your own, the empty stem of a dandelion between your fingers as you watched the fluffy seeds carry your wish upon the breeze. they brought a wish you held dear up to the sky, and you waited patiently for it to come true.

maybe it was a but silly legend to some, but when you met dan heng, you couldn't help but face the sky with a smile. your wish had not only been heard, but also been granted.

dan heng was your wish come true.

[ashoss]

stephanie & bruce fic recs

for @peachie-wren13 :DD

Permutations & Hinterlands - cabezas_de_vaca

steph & bruce

7.5k words, 1 chapter

summary:

She and Bruce are complicated (not bad complicated, not wrong complicated, just complicated, because he isn’t her father and will never be her father and yet he sort of also is) but he cares. It gets lost sometimes, under the demands of Gotham, but it’s there.

And so, she just asks him. “Do you want to go to Colorado with me?”

Or: Bruce, Steph, and a road trip

* heed the tags !! angsty

dont wanna long post this so more under the cut :)

sweet child o’ mine - Nokomis

steph & bruce, steph & alfred

4,4k words, 1 chapter

Summary:

Steph said cheerfully, “Bruce, from now on, consider yourself in possession of one Steph-mom.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said.

Steph took a bite of her cake, undeterred.

A Softer Gotham - Hinn_Raven (series)

steph & bruce, time travel

12.2k words, 3 works

summary: One night makes all the difference. Especially a night when Stephanie Brown, in the wrong dimension, interferes in a mugging.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust - popsunner

steph & bruce

4.4k words, 1 chapter

summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.”

“I don’t.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“I am Batman.”

Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?”

“Then I forgive you.” _______

Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

Tuck Me In - OberonBronze

bruce & his kids (big on jason, but it does have cute scene w the other ones esp steph)

14.1k words, 1 chapter

summary:

Bruce Wayne and his long-standing habit of tucking his kids into bed.

Galas Suck - dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi)

steph & bruce

1.9k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When she doesn’t respond, he looks down to her face, finding her staring in the direction of the doors they came in through. “Something on your mind?”

He’s really asking, why did you come and get me? If it’s just nerves, she would’ve been better off with one of the others. No, it must be something else.

Steph blinks, turning her gaze upwards. Never one to back down, she meets his eyes long enough for him to see she’s not in any distress, at least. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Everything. Nothing.”

------------

Written for the Gen Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019, for the prompt "Wayne Gala"

the early robin gets the worm - deargalileo

bruce & his kids

7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

bruce loves all of his children equally. its just when he has to wake them up, that there's an issue.

aka; the five times bruce tries to wake up his kids, and the one time that he doesn't.

DON’T YOU CRY, DRY YOUR EYES. - orpheusaki

steph & bruce

4.8k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After inhaling her food before Bruce's even halfway through his vanilla milkshake, Stephanie seems to have sobered up a little. She's looking less green, and more like she's trying to develop x-ray vision and look into Bruce's soul.

Or maybe she's still drunk, because she very suddenly and very bluntly tells him, "I used to wish you were my dad," drowning her chips into a little pot of ketchup.

Bruce pauses. He slowly drops the chicken nugget he was about to put in his mouth — since now is probably not the time to complain about how the nuggets are a little dry today.

(Bruce Wayne is not Stephanie Brown's father, not at all.)

*tbh anything by orpheusaki is gonna be an amazing read, ive loved all the fics ive read by them <333

Have I Told You About Minnie? - Hinn_Raven

steph & bruce, bruce & his kids

4.6k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After you’ve known Matches Malone long enough, you get used to him telling you about his kids. Not that his kids know about it.

too young to be taken seriously, too old to believe all this hypocrisy - Hinn_Raven

steph & jason & bruce

5.7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When Crystal Brown goes into rehab, leaving Stephanie in the sole custody of her father, Steph decides to run away from home, and meets Jason Todd, who decides that she is the best little sister ever.

or:

"the dark knight is beaten up by children on the anniversary of his parents death... tragic"

theres not a lot of steph and bruce fics and it makes me sad :((

btw i have a google doc with a shitttttt ton of fics lol. its some recs ive been asked for so hope yall enjoy :)

[mushroomnoodles]

tw bodily fluids

was simons pregnancy more painful than any other ones?? was there a gigantic mess of like blood and "other stuff"?? like.. birth takes soo long to do seriously like 4-8 HOURS on average or are we just gonna like not include this for the sake of not being nauseous ( + old mans remaining sanity )

tw/cw for sfw and non kink mpreg, as well as labor, water breaking.. and discussion of birth details + injury while trying to keep it vague.

ill go into it once- yeah, it's pretty safe to say simon had a rough time with the labor. i've stated this before, but he was experiencing labor pains for a few days before he went into active labor- see, he didn't think much of it because every now and then his body would try to have morrigan and be unable to because of the seal, so braxton hicks and actual false labor was.. not something he was unfamiliar with.

it wasn't until the contractions got so bad they were nearly debilitating and he felt morri shift inside him to get ready to be born that he went, oh no, oh no no no, he's having the baby.

more under the cut, there's art down there too but like heed the tags. i'm still trying to keep the discussion.. not super heavy.

we all know what happened next, with marceline bringing him into the woods and not being able to make it. because like, right after she set him down, his water broke.

blah blah, they run into finn, explain simon is like, pregnant and about to give birth, set up a location, and then simon (and marcy) are faced with another problem.

it's pretty obvious to everyone that simon's bump was huge. morri is huge. the actual place they'd be born from.. not so much. but that doesn't dissuade morri, who has been trying to get that gd seal off them for months, and is not going to waste another second hiding in their old man. things are going super fast.

and things do not look great down there. marcy is totally winging this delivering a baby thing. simon kept going from silence- just trying to ride through the contractions, to screaming like a dying animal. marceline was terrified the whole time, especially when simon said he felt like he was gonna rip open.

(pretend the fallen tree is behind simon.)

so yeah, it was pretty messy. simon did not make giving birth to a twelve pound baby out unscathed, he definitely tore. when morri was out marceline gave him what little medical attention she could, which honestly wasn't a lot- pb had to do some quick fixing when she showed up, and i don't think he would've made it if not for the cosmic energy radiating through him from carrying morrigan.

it was a good while before simon recuperated enough to be moved, and it sorta spooked everyone when he just.. got up like he didn't just finish pushing out a 12 pound baby. those pain meds were a godsend, by the way, simon was never happier for them in his entire life.

victory! they got him home and in bed with his brand new baby, and marceline stuck by for a few weeks to help take care of morri while simon healed. simon was zonked out but very happy to have a baby in his arms, his baby.

also bonus: simon wakes up the next morning

he feels like five trains ran through his entire lower half. homedawg lived on those pain relievers from that point on

[mcflymemes]

ASSASSIN'S CREED III PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the video game, adjust as necessary

we never took them seriously. maybe we should have.

i'm getting ahead of myself.

we've been fighting them for thousands of years.

i've seen the truth.

it holds the power to change everything.

there's only so much we can do.

if we can't find a way to stop it, these next few weeks will probably be our last.

it worked. we think. we hope.

we're here. let's go.

you must find the key.

here we go again.

do you hear us?

you collapsed and entered into a fugue state.

you weren't in any danger.

i know what i'm looking for, by the way. it's a key.

i'd like to run a couple of quick tests.

have you seen it before?

my father brought me here as a child.

on to business then.

the stairs are watched. you'll need to find another way up.

you should have come to me.

for what it's worth, i'm sorry.

that's why we've called you here.

i am yours to command.

well, then i'd best be on my way.

my research has been stolen. without it, i'm of no use to you.

i'll see if i can't speed things up.

we need to find a way inside.

i believe i've found the solution to our problem.

we'll attack on my signal.

i made a promise to you, [name], one i intend to keep.

the sooner we're done, the sooner we can get out of this cold.

it does not engender peace to cut your way to resolution.

if we applied the sword more liberally and more often, the world would be a better place than it is today.

now i've upheld my part of the bargain, i expect that you will honor yours?

you seem disappointed.

you have shown me great kindness, [name]. thank you.

really? that's your response? it's like dealing with a six year old.

i sense my words cause pain.

do you even know what that symbol represents?

come on. i've got something to show you.

very well. i'll train you.

you're also going to need a new name.

what's true and what is aren't always the same.

you'll be happy to hear there's actually good news for once.

it's silly for us to go back and forth like this.

we cannot give up our home.

do you have a name? do you know who is responsible?

time will tell if you speak the truth.

why are you here? has something happened?

you should have heeded my warning.

perhaps you'll respond better to the sword.

are you threatening us?

i thought it might bring clarity or instill a sense of accomplishment. but all i feel is regret.

such sacrifices must never come lightly.

all of them must be dealt with in turn.

you speak the words, but do you believe them?

takes a true monster to do something like this.

every day i wait, more will suffer.

many who should've died today now live because of you.

we do the best we can with what we've got.

you wield your blade like a man, but your mouth like a child.

there are more important things at stake here.

i do what is right. no more. no less.

i don't even see a stall in here. what if i had to take a dump?

please just mute the microphone if you do.

life is not a fairy tale, and there are no happy endings.

in your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it!

our interests are aligned.

perhaps some time together might do us good.

i can kill you now if you prefer.

would you like me to come along and hold your hand, perhaps?

why the change of heart? where is this coming from?

you oppose tyranny. injustice. these are just symptoms. their true cause is human weakness.

you have said so much... but you have shown me nothing.

tell me of your latest exploits.

you have not come this far to throw it all away over misplaced sentiment.

there is nothing more to discuss.

i should have stayed.

now you must hide it.

what once was shall be again.

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 5

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 7.2k

Content: depression, self-harm (cutting)

A/N: first and foremost, please read the warnings; there's literally only two and one is a pretty significant one so plleeeeasssseeee take heed!!!!!! And let me know if there's anything else I should be tagging for it. Feels too flip for me to ramble in my usual way here given the content of this chapter, so just to say be safe, and I hope you like it! Thank you to my betas @amethystwritesbts @quarter-life-crisis2 @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

Chapter Five - The other shoe

The sun was shining and birds were singing and you wished you were a character in a musical so you could burst into (tuneless) song and run across a field in a circle skirt. You hadn’t felt this good for a long, long time.  

“Looks like someone’s in a good mood,” was Taehyung’s greeting to you as you plopped down in your chair next to him. “You get laid or something?” 

You had, in fact, got laid last night. It had been even more anxiety-inducing than you had thought it would be, particularly given that Sungbin was a verified Greek god of a man and, well, your body had been through a little since the last time you were fully naked in front of someone new. You had put your body through a lot. The body keeps the score and it also shows the scars. You did not tend to keep them on display and you had hesitated and become awkward and flustered when you remembered them, when you realised he was going to see them, going to see what you had done to yourself.  

He didn’t mention them. He didn’t make it weird. He didn’t avoid them nor did he bring extra attention to them. He acted as if they weren’t there at all. Then he made you come until you were seeing stars.  

“That good, huh?”  

It had been that good. Or maybe it had just been a long time. Either way.  

“I think I’m going to fall in love with him, for real,” you said, all dreamy and moon-eyed, staring at your computer screen and seeing nothing but love hearts. 

“Girly...” Taehyung’s voice had a slight warning note but you let it wash over you. 

“I know, I know, but seriously. I feel happy, Teddy. Legitimately happy. I feel like I can see a future unfolding, a future I might actually want to live in.” 

“With Sungbin?” 

You shrugged. 

“Sure, why not?” 

He didn’t answer, not really. You could feel his reluctance; you could almost hear all the questions he wanted to ask. You let him think them. You weren’t going to let anyone burst this bubble.  

“What are we doing this weekend, chick?”  

You looked up from your desk and took the coffee cup in Taehyung’s outstretched hand. He sat down next to you. 

“What do you mean ‘what are we doing this weekend’?” 

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean “what are we doing this weekend”’?” 

“What do you mean-” 

“No, I’m serious. We always do something, but I haven’t seen you for weeks now.” 

“Teddy, we are together every day. You’re seeing me right now!” 

“That’s not the same and you know it! You’re reserving all your time for Sungbin these days.” 

“That’s not true.” 

Not entirely. He wasn’t being fair. It was true that you had seen Taehyung a little less over the past month or so but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him at all. You had someone else in your life now; you would’ve thought Taehyung would have been a little relieved to get some time back, to be honest. 

“Well, what about you?” you asked. “You’re spending all your time with the barista.” 

“Hyunjin. And I’m really not. I still have plenty of time for my other friends. For you.” 

“Are you suggesting that I’m not making time for you?” 

He shrugged.  

“I know you’re really into Sungbin right now and things are going well and that’s great. I’m genuinely fucking stoked for you and I hope that it’s everything you want it to be, but I feel a little tossed aside, yeah. Especially because I’m the one who’ll have to pick up any pieces if it goes south.” 

That hurt. Coming from Taehyung, that really hurt. 

“Why do you think it’ll go south?” 

“I’m not saying that it will but you’re honeymooning hard right now and it kind of feels like you’re putting a lot of eggs into one basket. You’re ditching me to spend all your time with a guy you’ve know-” 

“I’m not ditching you!” 

“I’m just saying you’re letting yourself be taken over by this. You haven’t seen me outside of work for ages. I know you didn’t go to therapy last wee-” 

“How do you know that?” 

“I know when your appointments are and you were posting on Instagram with a cocktail in your hand at the time.” 

“What makes you think I didn’t rearrange the session?” 

“Did you?” 

No, you didn’t. You skipped that one. Just one. That would hardly hurt. And you were feeling so happy right now, the need for therapy had receded a little, dipping past the horizon, not entirely out of sight, but almost out of mind.  

“That is exactly what I’m saying-” 

“No, what exactly are you saying? Is this about wanting to see me more or is it about telling me that me and Sungbin are going to crash and burn?” 

You could feel tears burn in your eyes and you desperately wanted not to cry. You always cried. All the time. It was exhausting and embarrassing and you were at work, right now – you didn’t have time for this.  

Taehyung’s eyes softened and this made your tears well even more.  

“I’m saying that I miss you and I’m worried. You are acting like he’s fixed you, like the only problem in your life was that you were single and now you’re not so everything must be perfect. But that’s not how things work and I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I’m not stupid,” you spat, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t think he’s fixed me. I think he likes me. And I like him. And we are together-” 

“Are you?” 

“What?” 

“Have you had that conversation? Are you together?” 

“Well-… What about you and Hyunjin? Have you had that conversation?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “We’re keeping it casual for now.” 

You didn’t like the sound of that. You hadn’t talked to Sungbin about it because you didn’t think you had to. You thought you were on the same page. Isn’t that what dating was? You dated and then, if you kept dating, you were in a relationship. It was automatic, by default. Why would you date someone if you didn’t want to keep doing it? If you didn’t imagine a relationship with the person, what was the point?  

You managed to blink your tears away but an uneasiness had settled in your stomach. What if you’d got it all wrong? Did Sungbin want to keep it casual? You didn’t. It was already too late for that. You were a goner. 

Maybe Taehyung was right. 

Was he? 

You sniffed. 

“Well maybe Sungbin and I aren’t.” 

“Does he know that?”  

Fresh tears. Anxiety. Your old friend insecurity crawling up your throat again. You should have known that this was coming, that there was a line you needed to acknowledge and either cross together or not at all. It hadn’t been like this with San because you had known each other so well before you got together, it really had been a foregone conclusion. This time, though... And there was so much Sungbin didn’t know about you, so much you knew you would have to share at some point and didn’t want to. The thought of revealing your ugliest self to him – to him, a flawless specimen of a man, inside and out, his parents’ pride, and the person you thought most about – was nauseating.  

You stood and walked off to the printers, pausing there only long enough for you to realise there was nothing you could pretend to print. Then you carried on to the kitchen, making yourself another coffee, even as the one Taehyung brought you was sitting, steaming, on your desk. 

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, sitting across from Sungbin at an outside table, running your finger up the wet glass of your iced latte. “What are you doing for Halloween?” 

He looked a little taken aback. 

“Halloween? In October?” 

“Yeah!” 

You held your palm tight against your glass, the discomfort of the cold playing distraction. You were trying to be casual about this. It was normal. Of course you’d make plans. Why wouldn’t you? You fought off the voice in the back of your head saying that you wouldn’t if you were just ‘keeping things casual’. That was why you had to ask.  

“I... have no idea yet. It’s only August.” 

“That is true, but I’ve been thinking. Teddy always has this massive party for Halloween and does costumes and everything and I would like, this year, to outdo him.” 

The party thing was true. Taehyung did throw one every year. And he did always have a good costume... You also always had a good costume, because he planned and bought it for you, but Sungbin didn’t need to know that part.  

“Wow, if he’s planning it this early, it must be big.” 

“Oh, no, he’s not yet, but I want to get a head start. Like I said, this year I think we can beat him at his costume game.” 

“We?” 

“Yeah, there are so many good couple costumes out there; it’ll make more of an impact if we do it together, right? Two is more than one etc.” 

“Right, yeah, uh... Sure.” 

“We don’t have to decide right now, but get your thinking cap on. I am going to destroy Teddy this year and you’re going to do it with me!” 

He chuckled a little and you thought this was good. Halloween was, as he suggested, months away, but he hadn’t said no. That counted for something. You ploughed on. 

“Also, what do you think to a double date?” 

“Oh. Um, who with?” 

“Teddy and Hyunjin. They actually got together the night we met! Might be fun. Also, to be honest, I really want Teddy to meet you. It’s been long enough, haha; you need his seal of approval!” 

“A test?” 

“Yep. He’s my bestie so he has to approve.” 

“Right. Yeah... Ok. You and he are really close, then?” 

“Yep. And, besides, it gets to a point where someone’s seen you have enough breakdowns that you have to keep them close: he knows too much!” 

There was a pause and you could see Sungbin considering his words. You fought the urge to move it on, to brush over it, to drop a hundred words a second to blow past it. But you also just had to... check, to let him know, to try to drip-feed him the information you, truthfully, didn’t want him to have but knew that he had to have, if this was ever going to be serious. It made you anxious, slowly revealing your brokenness to him, pushing him closer and closer to the threshold at which he might say ‘stop, that’s enough; I don’t want you anymore’. He hadn’t yet, but you’d barely begun.  

“Breakdowns, huh?” 

“Yep. Although, actually, while it was Teddy who held me together after the break-up, it was my ex who really did the heavy lifting before that.” 

Sungbin nodded thoughtfully and you didn’t know if you imagined his eyes flicking down to your thighs or not. Probably imagined. But it wasn’t like the two didn’t go hand in hand. 

“Sounds rough.” 

“It was. Both times, haha.” 

He nodded again. 

That was enough, you thought. That had to be enough disclosure for now. You could feel it pressing on you, like the oppressive summer humidity; you felt stifled by your exposure, almost a little giddy with the force of your discomfort. If this is what it was like, revealing your darkness to someone, you crossed all your fingers, hoped, and prayed that this thing with Sungbin would last so that you would never have to do it again.  

* 

You went home with him that night and there was a background buzz of something in your head, this kind of vertigo-swirling of standing too close to the edge of a cliff, an unsteadiness of foot that Sungbin was able to kiss away but which came back two-fold when you were lying naked in his bed. You tried to look at yourself, discreetly, objectively; what did you look like to him? Was he looking at you differently now, tonight, armed with new knowledge? What did he really know? What had he taken from the things you had said? You didn’t want to ask him, didn’t want to talk about it more, didn’t want to have to explain and elucidate and make explicit things that you hoped he would infer.  

He didn’t seem different, then, didn’t turn off the light or kiss you goodnight any differently from the way he had before. Maybe it was fine. Maybe your brokenness wasn’t fatal. Or so you could dream. 

“Last day, baby!” you cried when Yoongi put his bag on the counter at your very last baking session. 

“So it is,” he replied, cool as ever. 

You shoved him. 

“Be excited! We made it! We’re bakers!” 

He rolled his eyes and grinned. 

“A rather generous term for yourself, isn’t it?” 

You shoved him again. 

“How dare you? Do I need to remind you of last week’s triumph? Or should I say my triumph and your tragedy?” 

You weren’t being entirely fair. Yoongi’s buns had failed because he had taken on the risk of your illicit ingredient, allowing you to follow the recipe correctly. It was gallant, really. He even said that his buns were alright, not that bad, kind of ok which you knew without having to try them was untrue.  

“Should I remind you who is responsible for my tragedy?” 

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You grinned at each other and started unpacking your bags. It felt easy between the two of you now. Long gone was your anxiety that used to accompany Thursday evenings, that gnawing embarrassment and glowing shame that you used to feel in Yoongi’s proximity, sure that you were the worst person in the world and that he wanted to get away from you, desperate as you were for his friendship and approbation. You didn’t have to be desperate anymore, because you had it. You were friends. In the spirit of said friendship, you had agreed to celebrate your last baking class tomorrow, so you could get as drunk as you liked without having to suffer the consequences in the office. 

* 

“Generous term,” you scoffed, looking at your layered cake at the end of the session, assembled and decorated and still standing. “How very dare you. Look at what I’ve made! I’m a genius!” 

Yoongi laughed quietly and swiped a finger through the buttercream frosting on top before you could swat his hand away. He put it to his mouth. 

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” 

“Not bad!” 

You swiped a finger through the frosting on top of his cake. 

“Yours tastes like shit.” 

“Well, now you’re just being mean and I won’t let you have a slice.” 

“Fine.” You turned your back on him to put some things in your bag and then turned back. “I didn’t want to eat your shit cake, anyway!” 

“You had better be careful or I’ll bring this as dessert for tomorrow.” 

You gasped. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Yoongi turned to face you head-on, a smirk on his lips, mischief in his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t I?” 

You mirrored his expression and crossed your arms. 

“I won’t let you in my apartment.” 

“Not even for the booze?” 

You faltered. You didn’t buy the expensive shit that he did. You still fully believed that expensive alcohol didn’t give you such bad hangovers. You didn’t want to lose this spat, didn’t want to come out of the bit, but also didn’t want to say no to booze. 

“You can leave the booze on my doorstep and go.” 

Yoongi broke first and laughed loud, tipping his head back. 

“You’re spoilt,” he said. 

You sniffed haughtily. 

“I deserve nice things.” 

Then he gave you that smile that he did sometimes, warm and soft, that made you feel like a broken open caramel truffle, oozing and sweet and sticky, like the two of you were stuck together, sugary fingerprints on your skin and a brown sugar taste on your lips. It was like a secret smile, for special occasions; you wondered who else got to see it.  

“Yeah, you do,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m bringing this cake to dinner tomorrow!” 

You groaned and pretended to fall, dead, to the floor. Yoongi laughed again.  

“I mean it.” He packed the last of his things in his bag. “I’m going to bring this and you’re going to eat it and like it.” 

“Over my dead body.” 

“If I recall correctly, I do, in fact, owe you a murder, so that can certainly be arranged.” 

You both laughed this time and you could think of much worse ways to go, much worse last things to see before you died. Yoongi picked up his stuff and his cake and turned to leave. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“With bells on!” you called after him. 

You had taken the Friday afternoon off, just to make sure you had enough time to shop and prepare and, gulp, cook dinner for Yoongi who you were expecting that evening. It was a celebration of your finishing the class but it was also a sign of intention, a new set-up for this kindling friendship that didn’t have anywhere else to meet. You’d take turns: one of you would cook and one would bring dessert and you’d alternate fortnightly. You weren’t sure whether you’d got the short straw to be tasked with dinner first or if you’d rather it were this way. You got the feeling Yoongi was a good cook and you didn’t want to have to follow that, but it felt like a lot of pressure being the first to host. You felt a little embarrassed of your shoebox apartment and cheap things and you knew Yoongi would never care—you knew he would understand completely—but it made you feel a little small, that this was all you had to offer.  

Never mind, you said to yourself. He didn’t care and neither would you. It wasn't about the venue; it wasn’t even really about the food. It was about the company. It was about making a space and a time for you and Yoongi to hang out. It was about making a commitment to taking your friendship outside of its bounds and cultivating it. That was what mattered and that was all you needed to focus on.  

You were scrolling on your phone, looking for recipes when a message from Sungbin came in. 

Sungbin: hey I’m wfh today. I'm about to have lunch can you come over? 

Obviously, the answer was yes. You did your best to make yourself look presentable in a rush and hot-footed it across the river to him.  

* 

“I ordered food, hope that’s ok,” Sungbin said as he gestured to the dining table where two bags of lunch had been placed. 

“Sure! I’ll eat whatever.” 

It felt a little strained, like the world had twisted itself into an uncomfortable position, but you put it down to the fact that you had never been to his apartment during the day before. He was also working; maybe he hadn’t shrugged off his focus yet. His job was still new and still stressful and this lunch was interrupting it. He was quiet as he sat down and you felt stifled. He ate a forkful and another. Then he put his fork down. 

“Thanks for coming all this way. I really wanted to speak to you but work is really hectic so I can’t get away.” 

“Yeah, no worries! I have this afternoon off anyway, so it’s no big deal.” 

“Oh right. Good. Um.” 

You thought to yourself that you were getting good at this: letting silence reign. Maybe it was all the time you’d spent with Yoongi; maybe it was all the time you’d spent in therapy. Maybe it was a sign that you weren’t letting your anxiety run your mouth anymore – even if you really, really wanted it to. 

“I thought we should talk,” is how he began. 

“About what?” Your guts twisted as you asked. 

“I know you were talking the other day about all sorts of plans and things and I just wanted to be clear about... where we are. What we are.” 

“Oh, right.” Your voice was airy and thin, even your lungs being squeezed by this cold-creeping fear working through your body. 

“I really enjoy spending time with you and I’d like to continue that but, ah, I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t want... a relationship, y’know? I just moved here and I’m still finding my feet and getting to know everyone and everything and I don’t want to, uh, settle into anything? And I get the feeling that... you do. I didn’t want, um, wires to be crossed or uh, I didn’t want things to get complicated or- I just thought we should talk before it went on any longer. I wanted to just make myself clear. I would like to keep seeing you but I think you want... more than I do. If I’m wrong, just tell me, sorry if I’ve assumed but I, uh, just, get the feeling...” 

“Right.”  

Your eyes were already blurry with tears. Here it was. The other shoe dropping. Taehyung was right. Sungbin didn’t want you. Not really. He knew who you were and he didn’t want you. You tried to tiptoe into it; you tried to slowly heat the water in the pan but you’d overcooked it. The frog was jumping out. You wanted more. Too much. More than he wanted. He didn’t want you. He didn’t want you that much. He didn’t want your broken parts. He didn’t want your ugliness. He saw your scars and he heard of your breakdowns and he knew that was ‘more’, too much. He didn’t want to carry you. He would have to carry you if you went on for too much longer. You had to be carried because that’s who you were: you weren’t enough, not even enough to lift yourself up. All your good parts, the shiny parts, the parts you thought you had in you somewhere... It wasn’t enough.  

“It’s not-” Sungbin was trying to start again, to explain, to let you down even more gently. “I like you; I think you’re a cool person and we have fun. I just can’t commit to more than that. I don’t want to lead you on or pretend this is going somewhere it’s not. Y’know, I really appreciate you making all these plans and things but that’s just- it's really, well, it’s a bit too much for me right now. Do you know what I mean?” 

You nodded and hummed and bit your lip to stop it wobbling. Your face was burning with embarrassment: that you were being dumped, that you were crying about it when this hadn’t even been real to start with. It had never been what you thought it was. It was just fun. You had pictured parties and holidays and walking off into the sunset but that was just you. It had never been that for Sungbin.  

He didn’t want you. Like a woodpecker pecking at your skull, it hit you again and again: he didn’t want you. He didn’t want you. You tried to show yourself to him and then he didn’t want you. You took him to your water’s edge and he decided not to swim. You should have seen this coming. You should have heeded Taehyung’s warnings. You should have had this conversation before now.  

You could feel yourself spiralling, crumbling, sitting at his table with an uneaten salad bowl in front of you. You couldn’t speak because you didn’t know what to say. ‘Please just love me’? ‘Can’t you change your mind’? ‘What if I were different’? ‘I can change’? Would anything make a difference? You couldn’t be different. Not really. It hit you at that moment: you would always be you. All of these things that you had been doing to try to change, to be better, to grow, to stop being such a mess all of the time. They wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t change who you were. What you were. You’d always just be... this. 

“Yeah, I understand,” you whispered, your voice trapped in your strangled throat. “I have to go.” 

You stood and whirled around, heading immediately for the door, shoving your feet in your shoes any which way, as long as they stayed on long enough for you to escape. 

“No, wait, hold on!” Sungbin called, following after you. “Don’t just go, please. I want to talk- I don’-” 

But you were opening the door and running down the corridor and he was calling, but not running, after you.  

You wanted to break down, just fall to the floor in a heap and stay there until the ground ate you up but you had to get out of his building. The lift was stifling, a too small metal box with mirrored walls that showed you your red eyes and running nose and face contorted with the effort of trying not to cry, with the fact that you were crying anyway.  

You had never felt so stupid. Humiliated. You wanted to scrape your skin from your body with the shame of it. Of course he didn’t want a relationship with you. A man who already loved you and loved you for years didn’t want a relationship with you anymore; why would Sungbin, with the world at his feet, settle for you?  

* 

You were crying on the subway again. You had sworn you wouldn’t do that. Not after the break-up. Not once you’d finally stopped crying over San. You weren’t going to be that person, that’s what you’d said. No one took any notice; no one said anything; everyone averted their eyes, but you could still feel their attention, were still so aware of the way they were not noticing you. You were a weirdo, a pathetic woman crying on the subway in the middle of a Friday afternoon.  

When you got off the train, you considered throwing yourself on the tracks. You would never have done it. Too many people around. A traumatised driver. Delayed and cancelled trains. Compounding your worthlessness by ruining other people’s days? You hadn’t sunk that low, not yet.  

You traipsed home, your feet feeling lead-heavy, your legs feeling weak and, as soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, you dropped to the floor. You gasped in huge, choking sobs; you couldn’t see for your tears and could barely breathe. Your chest felt as though it were caving in on you, squeezing the life out of you. You dragged your nails across your skin to try to feel something else, something different, some other kind of pain and then a thought came to you, sharper than it had been for months, clear before where it had been vague. A directive, not just a thought anymore. 

There was a reason you didn’t keep razors in the house but your nails certainly weren’t cutting it. Then you remembered the knives Yoongi had bought you, how he had impressed upon you that they were sharp, that they were good quality and barely used so they should still, now, be sharp. You dragged your body to the kitchen counter and ripped open a drawer. You picked one at random – it didn’t matter which – and sat back down. You shuffled to pull off your cycle shorts and there they were, your mosaic thighs, criss-crosses of light, thin lines and thicker scar tissue. You had always taken a weird pride in the neatness of it. You had always cut carefully and deliberately, as though you were creating something other than scars, other than a mess, other than something you had to hide from everyone. You went over them again, re-cutting all the old lines, each sharp slice of pain a relief, grounding, pulling you back from somewhere.  

The relief made you feel hysterical, silly even, the strange, old euphoria of hurting yourself, of being in control of that hurt rushing through you and making you dizzy. It was like coming home. Your breathing came more smoothly and your heart slowed and your tears began to dry and you couldn’t stop, not yet. You had to see how far you could go. A little more. You needed just a little more. You had plenty of real estate; you could make more. You could expand the design, your bloody, little, monochromatic Mondrian.  

You felt empty when you stopped. Drained. Exhausted. Sick to your stomach. You let yourself fall sideways, lying on your dirty kitchen floor. You had nothing left in you. You lay there, unmoving, letting your brain tell you whatever it wanted. You didn’t care anymore. About anything. You had nothing. You had nothing to give and no one to give it to anyway. If you blipped out of existence, well, that would be the best-case scenario. Like Buffy’s key in reverse. Blink, and you had never existed at all. That would have been nice.  

It would still be nice. If you could just disappear off the face of the earth. You couldn’t bear to look towards the future – a future you didn’t want, that you knew wouldn’t be better than this. The thought of it made your soul shrivel, made you dig your nails into your reddened thighs, made you cringe and wince. When would it be over? Why couldn’t it be now?  

* 

You distantly heard your intercom ring but it felt as if it were coming from another world. You were gone. You were out of this world. No one missed you. Your apartment was a glitch, a tiny black hole where no one could go and no one wanted to go. It rang for what could have been a short time or a long time—you'd lost all sense of it. Then you heard knocking at your door.  

Then more knocking. 

Then something akin to thumping. 

“Hey,” Yoongi’s voice rang cleanly through the wood and metal. “Are you in?” 

Your phone started buzzing noisily on your side of the door, rattling against the floor bar in the entryway. Then there was silence for a while. You assumed he had gone away. 

Your door beeped and swung open and there were footsteps, the quiet flomp of shoes hitting the floor, the rustle of a carrier bag. You remembered you had given him your codes in the interest of fairness -- you did have his, after all. You felt so detached from everything that you didn’t know how you felt about that. Yoongi quietly called out for you. You didn’t respond. Didn’t even feel like you could.  

Your apartment was small enough that he could survey the entire space in a few small steps, so he would barely have to enter before he would see you. You knew the moment he did; you felt the way the air was sucked out of the room for a second. You felt him freeze, could hear the seconds tick by on the clock on the wall. Then he came into your line of sight, kneeling in front of you, saying your name. 

“Fuck, don’t be dead,” he whispered.  

He held his hand underneath your nose and felt you breathing. You felt the weight of the sigh that left him.  

“Shit, fuck.” 

He bent over, turning his head to try to catch your eyes; you could see him but you weren’t looking at him. You weren’t looking at anything. He was a blurry approximation of a man in front of you. He called your name for a third time.  

“You, uh, are you alright? ... fuck, fucking stupid. No, obviously not. Fuck. Ok. Uh. I-. Can I... What can I do?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer. It was as if all speech and movement had been taken from you. You really had nothing left. You couldn’t give him anything. You felt like a husk and that was all you wanted to be. 

“Shit, what should I do? I.. I do-. Well. Ok. Can you sit up?”  

You couldn’t even shake your head. You were aware of him continuing to mutter to himself. He stood up and disappeared for a minute or two; you heard the open and shut of cupboards, the rifling through of your jars and bottles and boxes. He returned with a light load. 

“I have to-” he started. “I’m going to. You.. I have to- I'm going to touch you, ok? I have to lift you up?” 

He hesitated as he came closer but was firm when he gripped your arms and lifted your body off the floor, pulled you sitting upright. You tipped your head back against the cupboard and a deep sigh pushed air from your lungs.  

“I still have to- this might hurt. You don’t have much stuff. I, uh, yeah, ok. I have to clean this.” 

You closed your eyes when he pressed a soaked cotton pad to your thigh. The burning sting of antiseptic made you feel a little bit alive but it was so short-lived.  

He was muttering again. 

“Fucking hell. I can’t. You don’t have anything useful. How am I-. What... This is... Fuck, this is going to need stitches. Is it?” 

You’d almost never heard him talk so much, not like this, not to himself, not with all these half-finished, curtailed sentences, this stopping and starting. Yoongi was straight-forward, even when he was feeling chatty. This Yoongi was going around in circles.  

When your eyes finally focused on him, he looked pale, paler than usual. A little grey possibly. His mouth was pulled in a taut, grim line when he wasn’t mumbling himself through the task.  

“Still fucking bleeding? Shit, did I make it bleed again? I can’t- I...” 

He sat back a little and looked at you; his eyes were sharp and focused and you couldn’t look at them. Yoongi took your chin in his hand, less gently than you might have expected, and he held you there until you looked at him.  

“How can you not have a fucking first-aid kit? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” The anger in his voice registered only dimly. “There’s a pharmacy on the corner and I’m going to go there.” He paused and his eyes were steely and his jaw tight as he worked his brain around how to say what he needed to. “I’m going to go and I’m going to come back and if I get back here and you’re dead, I am going to kill you, ok? I know I promised to kill you but I was fucking joking and you’re not allowed to be dead. Is that clear?” 

His face softened as he waited for an answer. You managed to nod your head. He held you a few more seconds before he stood and walked out.  

* 

It could have been only seconds or it could have been hours until he returned—you neither knew nor cared—but he did return and he dropped a plastic bag on the floor beside you. He tipped it upside down and dumped its contents. He wasn’t looking at you now, not at your face, just at your legs, as he cleaned and tended and muttered to himself some more. He unwrapped bandages and folded over gauze and you let him lift your legs and place them back down. You let him do whatever he needed to, wanted to. It didn’t matter.  

When he was finished, he sat back and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and you saw his eyes alight on something to your left. You couldn’t read the expression that came over his face. Something like horror, something like disgust, something like despair. He leaned forward onto his hands and grabbed the offending object; he threw it into the sink with a metallic clatter.  

He sat opposite you for some time. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You felt hollow. You could hear it, the wind howling through your empty spaces. You felt like you were all empty space. Just an echo of nothingness trapped in skin. Every part of you hurt, as if the pain were radiating out from your heart, filling the void inside you with a sharp, persistent ache. You couldn’t talk. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, to have to hear yourself, hear your existence continuing in the world. It hurt. As long as you were silent, you could fade away, you told yourself. Just disappear. Yoongi would go and you would be alone and you could just disappear. 

“Do you want to eat?” he asked. “You should eat.”  

The thought evidently set him on a path because he stood and opened your fridge, opened your cupboards, looking for food. He stepped over you and then stopped, foot in mid-air. He turned back to you. 

“If I’m going to cook, you’re in the way. Can you move?” 

You blinked. You sighed. You looked down. Then you felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you to your feet. It was an awkward drag and shuffle to the sofa, your feet tripping over themselves, Yoongi lifting but not really carrying you.  

“Fuck, sorry,” he said on a heavy exhale as you dropped like a stone onto the sofa. “I’m going to cook now.” 

* 

He held a bowl out in front of you and, when you didn’t take it, he picked up your hands and placed them against the ceramic, lowering it all into your lap. Then he sat next to you. 

“Eat.” 

You looked at the food, steaming hot; it smelt nice. You wondered what on earth it was and how he could have found the right ingredients in your house. You were still not exactly domesticated, despite your efforts. Yoongi kicked your foot. 

“I mean it. Eat.” 

You sighed and continued staring into the bowl. Eating would mean conceding to living, to staying alive. You felt defeated but you also wanted to avoid this defeat. Everything about you felt wrong. Hideous. Like things were crawling beneath your skin. You didn’t want to continue that existence. You didn’t want to feed it. 

Yoongi took the bowl from your hands and placed it on your coffee table. 

“Fine,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Absolutely not. You shook your head.  

“What do you want to do? I don’t know what to do. What can I do?” 

You, again, fell sideways, lying on the sofa with your legs still dangling down. It wasn’t entirely comfortable but that hardly mattered. You couldn’t answer; you didn’t know.  

Then Yoongi did something that you wouldn’t in a thousand years have expected him to. Just as you had, in his apartment, weeks ago, he crawled behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, convinced for a second you might split and shatter. He was warm and soft and you could smell his hair and his breath tickled your neck and it hurt so much. It all hurt so much.  

You breathed in deep and when you exhaled, you choked, crying again. You didn’t know you had more in you. You had thought you were dry, but just as there was no end to your sadness, there apparently was no end to your tears.  

You lay there, letting him hold you as you cried, letting the sun lower in the sky, letting the stars come out.  

“I’m fucking sick of it,” you gasped. “Sick of it, sick of it, sick of it.” 

“Sick of what?” 

“Everything. I hate it. I hate everything. I hate it. I hate being alive. I hate being me. I can’t stand it. I don’t know how people do it. I just want it to stop. I just want it to stop.” 

“Life?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I get it. I don’t want you to stop being you, though. For what it’s worth.”  

You couldn’t hear that kind of thing. Not now. You couldn’t take it. 

“You just don’t know me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and thick from new tears.  

“Tell me, then.” 

“I fucking suck.” 

“How?” 

“Literally everything I am. Fundamentally flawed. I’m broken and stupid and I can’t be normal and no one can ever love me because I’m this. I’m just this all the time and I can’t get better and I thought that I could but it’s just me and my fucking broken head and I ruin everything. I ruin everything for everyone and always will and no one can stand me. No one can and I don’t fucking blame them. I can’t stand me either. It makes me sick to be such a useless heap of junk. I’m a worthless waste of space because what is the point of me? What do I do? I need people, I cling to people, I make myself their problem until they can’t take it anymore. I’m depressed and stupid and I will never achieve anything and never do anything and I might as well just die right now because who cares? Literally who cares. I tried and I fucking tried but I’m still me and I can’t run from it or change it and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be here. I don’t know what to do anymore. There is nothing for me. The future is black and it’s bleak because I’ll be there. I’m always there. I can’t get away from myself. I can’t bear it. I have to live like this? For years? More and more years? Twenty? Or thirty? Forty years of this? It makes me sick to think about. I can’t think about it. I can’t think about having to be alive like this for another day let alone any longer. I hate it. I hate being me and I hate being alive and I just wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just disappear. I’m a broken, useless, fucked in the head piece of shit and no one will ever love me because they can’t. I’m unlovable. I’m this and it makes me unlovable but I can’t change it so I will always be unlovable and I can’t do it. I can’t live like that. I can’t do it anymore.” 

You took a deep, shuddering breath and Yoongi said nothing. He was quiet for long enough for your shame to creep back in, curling its fingers around the door frame and pulling itself in, unbidden and unwanted. You were embarrassed now, again. You felt stupid. Again. You felt pointless and petty and pathetic and you were about to shrug Yoongi off, to tell him to leave, to crawl into your bed and hide under the sheets when his arms tightened around you. You heard as well as felt him take a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I understand.”  

There was a pregnant pause and Yoongi cleared his throat. 

“But I don’t think any of those things about you. For what it’s worth.” 

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé 3.0

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|3| gather info on your crush.

[READ 1.0 HERE AND 2.0 HERE!]

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; the reader's backstory & CT are revealed; angry protective satoru; reader is a mean protector [both of herself and of satoru]; she openly and unashamedly digs in this side of satoru too; warning alert of there being a terrible rumor-monger relative, horrible heartless higher-ups & a fight [your favourite wins, dw]. not-really-angst... not-really-fluff either... somewhere in the between... the ending's fluffy for sure! [this is my fave chapter so far too! :))]

▸ aniki = older brother in japanese

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"oh, you wouldn't want to be friends with her."

the comment cuts through the air with a noisy chuckle and a raucous chorus of giggles - gojo's knuckles grow white with the painfully tight grip he has on the glass of mocktail.

suguru shoots him a contrite face from the other side of the crowd, mouthing an apology with a helpless shrug. the boy looks away from his best friend to throw a glance at the two girls a few seats away.

a beat passes wherein shoko and utahime share a brief look, and the former speaks up, an odd edge to her voice as she leans forwards, a smirk directed at the boy. "and why wouldn't geto? she seems like a pretty nice girl to be friends with."

your cousin scoffs. gojo seriously wishes there wasn't a strict rule set by his father for the clan members of not meddling in the other clans' matters, to maintain an image of neutrality and amiability.

(it's not like he prefers not to break rules or is afraid of his father, the boy thinks grimly as he gulps the last sip of his mocktail and returns the glass to the table with a thud. it's far from being either of those.

it's just that with a small response from him in this matter, you will be dragged under the elders' scrutiny; your friendship with him too will be - and that's something he would never wish upon you. so the boy stays quiet, opting to-)

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the chitter-chatter dies down to a deathly silence in an instant.

rising from his seat, gojo stalks towards the boy sitting on the couch. from the background, he can hear few voices urge him to stop, to get back, with repeated 'satoru, no' and 'satoru, relax' - but the boy finds not a cell in his body wanting to heed those voices. marching right up to your cousin, who shoots him a pathetically fake smirk now, the boy repeats himself, "what. did. you. just. say."

the target of the query huffs a chuckle, drunk and stinking - and your friend realizes now just how much of a diluted description of him you gave him the other day. the guy isn't just some petty irritating relative of yours, he is a fucking bastard.

a fucking bastard who's going to get beaten into a pulp, if he doesn't choose his next words wisely.

another chuckle leaves him, before he gets up from his seat, a slight sway to the action as he sneers at gojo. now, were the circumstances different, the white-haired boy is sure such a brazen person would've impressed him, who is the strongest sorcerer there is, but not today.

not when you're the one who is the innocent undeserving recipient of such a remark as the one he utters next.

"i just said, my cousin's a freak who can read someone's mind without them knowing - and she does that all the time for her sick enjoyment. no one can ever trust that bitch."

a fist connects with the side of your cousin's face and before anyone can realize what's happening, the two boys are rolling on the floor in a brawl, gojo obviously with the upper hand as he lands blow after blow and yell after yell on the other.

a quiet voice whispers to his conscience, chiding his response to the situation to be too harsh, too cruel - but no sooner does it appear than it is stomped down and shoved away by images from the past.

images of a little girl crying, yelling, screaming, eyes squeezed shut, how everything's so loud, how everyone's so noisy, how everyone just can't seem to stop talking of her - in the shocked silence of the party hall.

images of being informed over the phone, his friend won't be coming to play today either - for a class or a function or a cold, he cares the least for - before overhearing later at dinner, it's the fifth day the girl's been comatose since her last treatment.

images of brash celebrations revelling in the discovery and return of a technique, long thought lost - the new messiah, they exclaim - while the said person looks at the elders with face steeped in what, the boy doesn't need his six eyes to know, is terror.

images of a girl, saying in a surprisingly void tone, how horrible, how terrible, how despicable a weapon they've made her into - sneaking into people's minds to steal the meaning of their lives away - before giving a suggestion, too smart, too sharp for a girl of ten; although-

"satoru!"

the singular word snaps the sorcerer's thoughts into two, making him move his irate gaze away from the bloodied face of the bitch to the door-

oh.

it's you.

you, standing in the school uniform, a bag slung over your shoulders.

you, eyes round and lips parted as you stare at the scene before.

you, who takes only a second before you rush forwards, moving him away from your cousin, worried gaze raking over his features instead of the bruised wailing mess of a relative left behind.

"'toru," the word escapes you in a whisper as you maneuver him into sitting on the couch.

another voice wafts over to him, a lot like suguru's, but he pays it no mind, wanting to focus on you and you only, while your fingers travel over his face, brush his bangs away, tuck them behind the shell of his ear, then finally come to a rest on the apple of his cheeks, the grazing of the thumb soothing a minor cut.

though the way your eyebrows furrow at it, emotions darting across your face a million a second, from confusion to concern to anger - gojo reckons, were anyone to see you now, they would think it ain't a tiny nick but a gaping wound.

the white-haired boy grasps your wrist in his fingers.

"i'm okay, shortie," the second-year reassures you in a whisper. you peer at him closely in turn for a beat longer, before a long sigh leaves you though the frown on your lips stays the same. he would've called you cute if not for the murderous intent rolling off you in waves...

gojo decides to call you hot now.

a seething gaze with a soft "what happened, 'toru?" reaches him next.

oh yes, gojo swoons inwardly, you're being so fucking hot.

nuzzling into the palm cradling his cheek, the boy smiles. "nothing you need to worry about."

"it's your cousin," a female voice butts in before a known pair of heads walk into his vision, one smoking a cigarette while the other looks at him then you, mildly stunned.

shoko continues, as laidback as ever (as if she too wasn't glowering then), "suguru there asked him something about you to which the pig replied with some nonsense, because of which satoru here jumped in to defend your honour." your eyes travel from her to him. a whoosh of air leaves the girl and she takes a long drag from a cigarette. "nothing very serious, to be honest..."

"but nothing too unserious either," utahime adds, which earns a small nod from her girlfriend, "if the asshole dares to lie about you once-"

"what's to say he won't again," you finish the sentence for her, a dark shadow looming over your face, then throw the culprit a harsh look. "and what shit did you spout, mr. resident douchebag of the clan?"

a corner of gojo's lips quirk up at the nickname you gave, then part in a grin at the reaction your cousin gave to that. embarassed, for sure, yet never going farther than glaring at you from those swollen eyes.

if you weren't standing here, caressing his face, your friend's certain, he would have gone to tear him a new one - the latter still scowling at you whilst intermittently yelping at the pain of his wounds.

a long sigh escapes you, visibly tired and annoyed.

"i know you can hear me just fine by that stink eye you're giving me, so fess up now - what the fuck were you telling about me?"

an absolute silence answers your question, and just when gojo thinks he might have to leave your warm cocoon to go beat your cousin up, again, suguru's voice sounds from beside, "he was talking about your CT."

"oh?" a brow rises. "and what about it?"

"apparently - and i quote," the long-haired boy adds with palms raised and faced forwards, at the scowl he shoots him, "you can read others' minds without their knowledge, and you do that always. for fun, your cousin claims."

you blink, and turn to your relative; a mask, gojo observes with a hint of melancholy, slipping over your features - not that the boy blames you, though. you need a mask - now, most of all times.

"you said that, aniki?" you inquire, the caressing hand over gojo's skin stilling with a slight tremor. he envelopes your hand in his; an action you respond to with a squeeze, continuing, "but why did you? after all that happened, after all that everyone in the family knows, why?"

a stubborn scoff sounds from the other end of the room; one of the six eyes twitches in its socket.

"i don't think you should ask this question, shortie," the second-year hums, pulling a nonplussed face from you. he grins, "you can simply read his mind, no? your aniki won't be forced to give a reply; your ask too will be answered. besides, this isn't gonna be the first time you're breaking into someone's mind, and, your cousin's not even gonna feel his mind being read - a painless procedure - isn't that right, aniki?"

"fuck no!!!!"

and bingo!

gojo watches you cast a long look at him, then back at your cousin, before a slow smile spreads on your features, the glint so dear to him making a comeback in your eyes.

"not a bad idea, senpai," you say, lifting your free hand and directing it at the culprit. a few gasps sound around you, soon followed by a few murmurs - your senpai watches them slide off your skin like water off a duck's back. you announce in a sing-song fashion, "well, here goes nothing~"

then stop at the anguished cry, your smile widening into a grin.

sweet and smug, like the cat who got the canary.

gojo feels three pairs of eyes look at his smirk, all at the same time - the boy lets them look. the two of you share dynamics, the nature of which none, except you two, can ever dream of comprehending.

wailing, your cousin rises and stumbles over to you, hands folded in a pleading gesture.

"please, no, no, no," he sobs, very nearly falling at your feet before you take a step backwards, disgust overtaking your grin, sending the boy reeling back. "i beg you, no. please don't kill me. i was just kidding; it was just a joke. i'm sorry, don't kill me."

"kill you?" you let out a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your chest, "i would never. i was just trying to read your mind, aniki. why on earth would that kill you? you won't even feel anything-"

"it's the binding vow, you bitch!!" the boy spits, interrupting you, "the one you took years back, 'cause you didn't want the higher-ups to use you as a spy again; giving up the element of secrecy of your CT to-"

your cousin pauses, the realization and the ensuing horror and regret dawning over his face; gojo presses him, sharing a smile with you.

"to?"

the answer arrives as a shuddered whisper - a whisper audible to all, however, thanks to the heavy silence in the room.

"to make it lethal on its victim instead; an attack none can stop, not even a special-grade."

the crash of a glass, or five, impacting with the ground sounds; you give a satisfied nod, smirking.

gojo runs a palm over your dishevelled hair, undoubtedly from driving with the windows down to this stupid meet of the teenagers from the jujutsu clans. you give him a smile, mouth opening to say something, but he doesn't let you. "don't thank me, stupid."

"okay," you acquiesce, a slight huff to your tone before it grows softer, "but can i at least say you were being very cool then? i'm impressed."

"who's impressed with whom?" a crass voice interrupts the moment before gojo can even form it entirely between the two of you.

three - nope, five (even your classmates are here, tch!) teasing smiles float into his vision; the second-year opens his mouth to throw back a retort - except you snatch the opportunity away from him.

"i'm impressed with gojo senpai- any problems, anyone?" you say, tilting your head to one side with the cutest little furrow in the midst of your brows. all five shake their heads, smiles widening before one of them falls on your next words.

"but the next time i see you, geto senpai, asking others what sort of a person i am - don't you dare deny it, you asked two of my friends too the same thing, they told me; god knows why you need my character certificate, though, and for whom; you're acting as if you've a sibling i wish to date and you wanna know everything about me before giving the green signal, but whatever it is, senpai-"

you heave a breath, a break from your tirade - while the remainder of the room's breathing stays suspended.

gojo glances away from you to find the attention of all the attendees fixed on you. he wraps an arm around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder. you lean the side of your head onto his.

"i promise i'll create problems for you, more if i see gojo senpai being dragged into the aftermath of your curiosity - okay?"

gojo watches his best friend look at you, terrified, for a second before turning to throw him a glare. the white-haired boy bites back a grin.

placing hands on his hips, suguru exclaims, "you know what, i tried to help but no one here is worthy of my assistance."

"no one asked you for this help, suguru," shoko interjects smoothly, "you were the one who insisted, something about this method being the most effective or something if they want to catch her attention-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa. who wants to catch my attention?" you inquire, cutting them two off. gojo's classmates stop and the blood flowing in his veins drops to a subzero as he cranes his neck to look at you.

you twist to look back at him. "is there someone who wants to catch my attention? do you know them?"

"i-uh-um," the boy stutters, mind scrambling for a reply - something, anything - before nanami interrupts, a small smile on his face, "yeah, there is someone, actually, and we all know him. geto senpai was just gathering some data on you as his wingman."

"oh," you mutter, gaze dropping to the ground, then lifting to gojo. the boy simply blinks back, which draws a frown from you in turn.

retrieving a pair of shades from your bag, you hand it to him and turn back to suguru, a barely-there smile on your lips.

"next time he wants some info on me, ask him to ask me directly. i'll appreciate it."

"noted, boss," the words escape gojo before the addressed can even reply, utterly unmoved by the five exasperated glares [honestly, it's four: haibara can never really glare at anyone] - the next step of the plan already whirring to life in the shades-donning boy's brain.

so, so giddy at the fact of being told of the golden key to your heart.

▸ wrote an info-loaded chapter the first time in my life; please let me know your thoughts or any feedback! 😇

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Masterlist.

A full accounting of my work this Kinktober! I think I wrote over 50k! Wow! Please share and let me know what you thought of Kinktober this year! More parts below the cut! Warnings in RED, Please heed them. Pairings in PURPLE.

Day 1 - Trying something new – You’re a desperate Pharma Rep looking for an easy win. Doctor Joel Miller is anything but. [Doctor!Joel Miller x Pharma Rep!Reader. Fingering, degradation, power play, public sex/voyeurism]

Day 2 - Degradation – Fancisco Morales and Santiago Garcia have you right where they want you. [Frankie x You x Santi. Set in the Shore Leave Universe, MMF threesome, DP, degradation(obv), established relationship, PiV sex, no barrier protection(but reader is on undisclosed BC).]

Day 3 - “Daddy please?” – Your stepdad Dave York catches you in the act of making money through online sex work. The fic that inspired “The Princess and The Duke”. [Stepdad!Dave York x Reader. Cam work, sex work, blowjob, exhibitionism, sex on camera, taboo, stepcest, PiV sex, no barrier protection(but reader is on undisclosed BC).]

Day 4 - Outdoor sex/risk of being caught – You and Dave have been fooling around for some time now, and you try and push his buttons at a 4th of July party. “The Princess and The Duke” Universe. [Stepdad!Dave York x Reader. Angst, fluff, smut, risk of getting caught, PiV sex, no barrier protection(but reader is on undisclosed BC) heavy references to PTSD/Trauma.]

Day 5 - “Who does this belong to?” Javi crosses a line in your relationship and you make him pay for it. [Javier Peña x Reader. Bondage, orgasm denial, male masturbation, Javi is a brat, fluff and angst. [Bonus from @lucyeyelesbarrow]

Day 6 - Taboo – You get caught watching your stepdad going for a swim, and it gets you way too hot and bothered. Set in “The Princess and The Duke” Universe. [Stepdad!Dave York x Reader. Female masturbation, spying on Dave, almost getting caught.]

Day 7 - What happens in “x” stays in “x” (add your own

context) You get way too drunk in an unfriendly town, but Silva wants to look after you. Set in the “Walk Away” Universe (Sort of a prologue). [Silva x TransMasc!Reader, heavy angst, body dysmorphia, self-hatred, drinking, Silva being way too sweet, pigs?]

Day 8 - Bondage – Joel loves having you tied up and at his mercy. [No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader, Overstimulation, Bondage, mild sub/dom dynamics, ass play, anal sex, double penetration (fingers and dick), unproteted PiV (established relationship BS used), degradation/use of slut/whore)]

Day 9 - Ass play [I cheated and re-used a fic!] You move into a dilapidated mansion after inheriting it from a family member. Joel and Tommy offer to fix it up for you. [Vampire!Joel x You x Vampire!Tommy. DDNI, Dead Dove Do not Eat, This is a dark fic, it’s twisted af, Joel and Tommy are vampires, that murder people, reader is their next victim, threat of death to reader, Joel is mean and fucking nasty in this, so is Tommy, drug use, dubcon(reader is drugged/high on pheremones), coercion, mouth fucking, unprotected PiV, Creampie, anal sex, rimming, throat fucking, ass play, double penetration, reader begs for her life, mind-fuck, mind-break, seriously dubcon/bordering on non-con, degredation, blood play, vampire biting, swallowing dacryphilia, let me know if I missed anything! Enjoy you beautiful THOTs.]

Day 10 - Toys Javi gets you back for the events of “Who does this belong to?” – [Javier Peña x Reader. Overstimulation, wand vibrator, unprotected PiV(Do Better), Papi Kink, Dom!Javi, Sub!reader, spanking, choking(mild), degradation (lots of it, Javi has a filthy mouth), come play(sort of??), bratty reader. Mentions of Infidelity and male masturbation]

Day 11 - Boss/employee (dubcon??) You dress up specially for Max at the office Halloween party. [Max Phillips x Reader. Failed SA on Reader, followed by a swift kick to the balls, Vampires, blood drinking, vampire bites, unprotected PiV(Please wrap it up), slight dubcon(reader isn't drunk but has been drinking), mild threat to reader (vampire sex yo.), blood loss, Max is a softdom,]

Day 12 - CNC (roleplay) You get caught out by a Raider, Joel Miller, in an old grocery store. He takes what he wants, as always. [Raider!Joel Miller x Reader. DDDNI, This is pretty Dark, Roleplay, It's all consensual but it is CNC(Consensual Non-Consent), Vaginal Fingering, gun play, knife play, struggle, threat of r*pe, threat around anal, Joel Miller's fucking mouth, degradation, slut shaming.]

Day 13 - Facial Set in the “Rendezvous in Reno” universe. Dieter gets to try something he’s been dying to do for months, fuck your tits. [Dieter Brave x Erotica Writer!Reader. Face-sitting, face-riding, tit-job/tit-wank/tit-fucking, established relationships, Dieter being a menace, Dieter is a tit man, fluff and plot, fluff and feelings, Dieter is technically a murder daddy because he murders that pussy.]

Day 14 - Phone sex – Set in “The Princess and The Duke” Universe. [Dave York x Reader. Phone sex/dirty talk, Daddy kink, angst, catching feelings, really fucking angsty]

Day 15 - Cousin’s husband’s maid’s brother (wildcard prompt

so have fun/go wild with weird ideas) – The neighbour’s gardener is a no-show, but his brother turns up instead. [No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader. Degradation, rough blowjob, no real prep for reader, Joel's mouth, panty sniffing, dirty talk.]

Day 16 - Aphrodisiac/sex pollen You and your least-favourite, but hot as fuck, patrol partner get stuck in an old FEDRA testing site, but you’re not alone. [Jackson!Joel x Reader Dead Dove Do Not Eat/DDDNI, noncon/heavy dubcon, body horror, tentacles, mouth r*pe, double/triple penetration, bondage, non-consensual bondage,  choking, deep throating, pheromones, sex pollen, tentacles, mind fuck/mind break, brainwashing, guilt, trauma, trauma bonding.] 

Day 17 - “Why do you run, only to let me catch you?” You’ve been on the run from Din Djarin for years but just over a year ago he stopped chasing you… Until tonight. [Din Djarin x Fugitive!Reader. PiV sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining, grogu being a sessy bitch, blood, addiction mentions, addiction, oral F&M recieving, Whiny Din Supremacy.]

Day 18 - Knife Play [ @Clawdeewritesfanfic Subbed in to save the day!]

Day 19 - “So much cum, fuck!” [@Clawdeewritesfanfic Subbed in to save the day! (Again!)]

Day 20 - Breeding kink – Dave York has a breeding kink. [Duke!Dave York x Princess!Reader Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, creampie, sub/dom dynamics, Dirty Talk, PiV sex (no barrier protection), Carol is mentioned but relationship is amiable.]

Day 21 - Shuffle for a Kesha/Dua Lipa/Charlotte Cardin song

& use the title as inspo – Dave and you finally get round to fucking. (Technically a remix of Daddy Please, but set in “The Princess and The Duke” Universe. [Duke!Dave York x Princess!Reader - Daddy Kink, Sex Work, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Possessive!Dave, Men being sexist dicks on the internet, choking, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, exhibitionism.]

Day 22 - Thigh riding You and Javi have some fun with those deliciously thick thighs of his. [Javier Peña x Reader. Nipple play, spanking, sub/dom dynamics, thigh riding, reader is a brat, degradation.]

Day 23 - Drunk sex Set after “Hurt so Good” Frankie helps you out of your shoes when you’re struggling after a night our drinking. [Vampire!Frankie x Reader. Drunk Reader (dubcon but established relationship), Twilight references (to piss off Frankie) Vampire sex, Vampire bites, Unprotected PiV (sort of), vampire vibes, oral F receiving, biting, vampire bites.]

Day 24 - Safeword – A collection of the various Safewords our PPCU boys use.

Day 25 - Pegging – Joel agrees to let you peg him, because it’s something you want. It doesn’t go quite to plan. [No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader. Pegging, anal fingering, handjobs, implied female oral, Joel Miller’s ego, Joel Miller’s Lack of communication skills, hurt/comfort, angst (happy ending heheh), insecurities around masculinity (implied), self-hatred/shame, sub!Joel, dom!reader, strap-on use, butt plug use, lots of lube, SO MUCH CUM! ]

Day 26 - Somnophilia – Javi wakes up to you humping your pillow in your sleep, it awakens something dark inside him. [Javi G x Reader. Warnings: Somnophilia, sleep sex, consensual somnophilia, Javi having dark thoughts, cnc, consensual non-consent (if you squint), Javi being a bad boy, dry humping/pillow humping, wet dreams, unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks)].

Day 27 - Costumes – Fluffy drabbles for our PPCU boys in costume.

Day 28 - “You trying to get me fired?” – You finally get Miguel to give in and just fuck you already. [Office/Lawyer AU!Miguel x Reader. Warnings: Office AU/Lawyer AU, Office romance/sex, co-workers, sexual tension, voyeurism, fingering, dirty talk, the whole office definitely heard, unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks).]

Day 29 - Picture perfect – Part 2/3 of “Creep”. You get sick and tired of waiting for your creepy neighbour to make an appearance, so you take matters into your own hands. [Creepy Neighbour!Joel Miller x Twisted!Reader. This is a dark fic, it’s twisted af, Joel is a creep, Joel is mean and fucking nasty in this, dubcon(Reader touching Joel in his sleep), coercion, degredation(lots of Joel calling Reader a slut/whore etc.), (heavy)stalker vibes.]

Day 30 - Pumpkin Spice [Combining with the below fic for release sometime this week]. Day 31 - Freaky Love (fluff with a monster I know I’m sappy - Combined fluffy smut with Max.

And nce again - big shout out to @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @patti7dc @beefrobeefcal @pastelnap @reaperofmen @jksprincess10 @clawdee @covetyou @strang3lov3 @lucyeyelesbarrow @gasolinerainbowpuddles @king-simp and the rest of my wonderful moots (sorry if I missed y’all my brain is soup) for being top tier in supporting me in this crazy as fuck endeavour.

Join my taglist here

@ktheunready @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @neverwheremoonchild @noisynightmarepoetry @casa-boiardi @xoxabs88xox @guelyury @its-nebuleuse @deadly-femme-bimbo @christinamadsen @mirandablue1 @clawdee @youandmeand5bucks-blog @hiddenbabynyc @stevie75 @star017 @vabeachazn @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @pedroshotwifey @bitchwitch1981 @dameron-grant-spector @livingdeadmaria @cantbenameds-blog @nashja @robertpattinsoninthetracksuit

[virtuouswhitehatorganization]

Miss Heed Stans Mad She Ain't Constantly Being Validated

The reason why is she is a user who does use people when she needs them and constantly tries to manipulate people. She's pissy that he calls her names even though she more than earned it by abusing his trust twice, stealing his thesis, and hypnotizing to be her love slave. Girl ain't some innocent sad girl but a messed up person who uses people. And again this is a draco in leather pants view of her. Just because she has self-esteem issues doesn't mean she's absolved of people not having animosity towards her especially if he twice screwed them over. Also one detail they forget to add is that Flug often had to get over security in order to see her which is pretty dangerous and could have gotten him punished. So, her doing this multiple times to time and again vent would make him resentful she makes him do something like that just to care only about her issues.

Also I would feel betrayed if someone I trusted joined an archenemy who is a complete dick to me. It again shows that she didn't value my friendship, especially if Flug told her how she felt and still went with him. This sounds not so different from Stolas stans that defend him at every chance, while bashing someone who dares say a negative thing about him because they rightfully are fed up with him. Heed is a complex character but again this just a rose tinted view on her by saying she wanted to just see him when again she wanted someone who constantly validated her at the detriment of their safety. A feature I have seen Stolas stands defend which is everything Stolas does is valid and the other party must validate him in order to be happy at all cost. That's pretty much a shit relationship.

Seriously, even after she's defeated and used him to get to Goldheart and complete her formula she feels entitled to Flug validating and loving her. And good thing Flug puts his foot down and gives her some good advice because he can keep enabling her to continue validating herself in order to bring up her self-esteem. It's kind of like with Diane and Bojack because sometimes you have to cut ties with friends who keep on making you feel guilty because of the baggage they bring. And again you know she wouldn't do the same favor for him if they were in the same situation. She's all take and not give which is another reason to put his foot down. I validate Flug having misgivings about her and talking shit because a girl pretended to be your friend while everyone in school was a bully to you would hurt someone even to this day.