#something something you will dig until your own hands are bleeding something something

[ibeewashere]

I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd rautha

part four of five. (part 1.) (part 2.) (part 3.)

summary:

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

wc: 1.6k

tw: political machinations, reader being inches away from killing everyone in the damn place including feyd, kissing, biting, mentions of breeding, possessive & needy feyd, sub!feyd, oral (fem receiving), fingering, hallway sex.

you’re getting tired of dreams. 

there’s terrible, terrible purpose dripping from their edges. you see it all - snapshots of horror, fractals reflecting endless bodies dropping to the ground. sixty one billion people, dead. ten thousand worlds burning, the universe begging for respite under your brother’s crushing fist.

paul. little mouse, whom you’ve shielded all your life, whom you’ve sparred with, crysknife pressed against his throat, his shield a feeble protection against your blade. something shatters. blades. so many of them. your blade. jamis’ blade. feyd-rautha’s blade. 

your dream has you standing in what you know to be the emperor’s ship, shrouded in bene gesserit veils. two silhouettes stand against the bleeding sun of arrakis. 

the realisation embeds itself in your mind, marble-carved. fate is looking down upon you and tells you: one of them dies in the end.

when you wake up, there’s a scream dying on your tongue.

you don’t know where you are. you don’t know where you are, why your side is on fire, why you taste blood in your mouth.

slowly, you rise, heart beating furiously, breath laboured. i must not fear. your fingers dig your sheets. the infirmary. fear is the mind killer. you close your eyes, will yourself to breathe. fear is the little-death that brings total -

a hand settles over yours, bone pale fingers weaving with yours. warmth settles on your shoulder. you relax, ever so slightly, leaning into the touch, burying yourself in the crook of feyd-rautha’s neck. he’s all sharp edges, honed to deadly perfection. in the quiet midnight of geidi prime, he softens for you.

“what troubles you?”

you wonder if you should tell him. of the golden path, paved with blood, so much blood it clings to the soles of your feet, you see it rise, rise, eager to seize you-

a low mumble of your name.

“dreams are messages from the deep,” you whisper in the crook of his neck. 

his hold tightens over you, brings you closer to the warmth of him, thumb running over the smooth skin of your belly, over your unborn child growing there. from your position, you can feel it, the way his vocal cords vibrate. he’s purring, soothing you bit by bit.

you tilt your head, hand coming to cradle his face, knuckles brushing against his cheek.

“i should be plotting your death.”

a low chuckle, a flash of almost eagerness in his eyes.

“i don’t doubt you will.”

his hand wraps around your neck, resting on the soft skin of your throat, bringing you closer to him, shifting your bodies until you’re straddling him, arms wrapping around his neck. you could strangle him. you could use the voice. ask him to take the knife you know rests on the bedside and slit his own throat like the harkonnen beast he is. use it yourself.

but you’ve sealed your fate the moment you stepped on arrakis. so instead, you let the darkness swallow your confession.

“i don’t want you to die.”

“i won't,” he mumbles against your lips, words like an oath as he kisses you.

they say the beat of a butterfly wing can cause a tempest on the other side of the globe. you wonder what tempest will be borne out of the fury beating in your chest. here goes: morning comes. the spice rules it all, even the baron’s affairs, so he gathers his troops to make a planetary governor out of feyd-rautha. 

the glorious sun of geidi prime shines its lifeless light upon you all. 

the finest harkonnen soldiers, ruthless hounds barking their sovereign’s name in fervent adoration, thousands upon thousands of ants stretching as far as you can see. they corrupt it all the harkonnen, eating away at the horizon. waiting. 

you’re waiting, too, hands folded before you, lone silhouette clad in dark robes, veils like a mask before your face. bene gesserit, the court calls you. 

not quite.

by bearing feyd-rautha a child, you’ve gained a modicum of respite. the bene gesserit will spare you, the mother of their precious kwisatz haderach. they will keep your survival a secret and bury it behind inscrutable eyes.

plans within plans within plans. you’re a pawn in the baron’s meaty hands, he’s a pawn in yours, and the bene gesserit have been pulling the strings for ninety generations. 

your gaze flits to the scene before you. feyd-rautha harkonnen, clad in dark leathers, silver embroidery like pauldrons over his shoulders. the mass of his uncle hovers above him, a hovering beast eager for power. two meaty hands encompass his face - absolute disgust coils in your chest as you watch vladimir harkonnen kiss his nephew. he kisses back. a show of dominance.

the soldiers howl his name, earth trembling under the clamour. they salute, arms crossed over their heads, a living, breathing organism, synchronicity at its peak. 

arrakis has a new ruler. 

a hand clasps over your wrist, drags you away from the adoring masses, in the sweet darkness of the palace’s hallways. you’re pinned against the wall, and feyd-rautha looms before you, terrible hunger burning in his eyes. slowly, he lifts your veils, high enough to bare your mouth to him. 

“my lord-”

you’re cut off by his lips on yours, eager, desperate, savouring you like fine arrakean spice-wine. 

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

he nips at your ear, grin sharper than his blade as he sinks to his knees. slowly, intimately, a shadow curling at his mistress’ feet. he unravels you, nails raking up your thighs, liquid desire burning in their path. 

“eyes on me.”

your eyes snap open. oh, he’ll be the death of you, with the way his eyes freeze you in place, willing, begging for his touch. you shiver, a low, needy sound escaping you. 

he grins, a flash of black teeth against the liquid darkness of your robes. shadows will swallow you whole - he will swallow you whole. already is, with the way he trails kisses up your thighs, teeth sinking in the meat of it until blood drips on your skin. 

he’s lapping at it, hands wrapping around your leg, spreading you apart inch by precious inch until he fits the broad expanse of his shoulders in the space he’s carved for himself. he raises his head, leans his cheek against your thigh, nuzzling in its softness. there’s blood coating his lips, sweet like forbidden fruit, and an unquenchable fire in his eyes.

“exquisite,” he purrs, nail digging in the blossoming mark he’s left, until your hips seek his touch.

he puts his mouth to you. you bite your lip, hard, as you feel him tease you, tongue lapping at you like sweet pomegranate, skilled fingers coaxing pleas for more. the cold of his silver ring has you keening - you're melting against him.

it’s obscene, how the only sounds you can hear are the pleased moans of your lover, the squelching of your juices dripping down his face, his wrist. it’s too much, too fast - your nails dig into his nape, bringing him closer. fucker’s purring, hands digging in your hips. he’s making a feast out of you, and you’ve never seen prettier sight. 

feyd-rautha, kneeling at your feet, a pretty, pretty blush dusting his cheeks, his soft mouth on your cunt, ruining you as he denies himself sweet release.

“feyd-”

a jolt - he’s just nipped your clit, and you’re falling apart with his name on your tongue, burning, melting in the pits of desire. you grow boneless, faltering on unsteady legs. he pulls you to him before you can fall, kissing you, moulding his devouring mouth to yours. 

distantly, you register that he’s breathless, that he’s pressing you against him, that you can feel the dampness at the front of his pants.

his voice is a low, needy rasp.

“you taste divine, my dear.”

there’s a commotion. someone, somewhere, is calling. a servant. a feast is prepared. blasphemy - the baron is a beast, and he will not have his nephew leave without obscene amounts of food. good. it leaves room for you to plan - you’re running out of precious, precious time. there are too many variables for you to act alone, yet you are.

you’re sitting at feyd-rautha’s side at a banquet table. on you watch, a mockery of a bene gesserit, nails digging in your palm. there’s a knife before you, of course. the baron’s sitting at the head of the table, stuffing himself until he’s about to burst. 

repulsive.

you could do it now. put an end to the harkonnen, avenge your family. plunge that knife in the baron’s throat and watch him die like an animal. 

but revenge is best served cold. you remember princess irulan being seated in front of you. you remember the emperor at the head of the table. you remember his knife slicing through unknown poultry. a falcon. he’s doomed your family to death. 

the emperor is old. paranoid. anybody would’ve seen that the atreides were far too loyal to even consider rebelling against him, rising influence or not. someone convinced him otherwise. the truthsayer, reverend mother gaius helen moriam. 

you take a bite of your own meal and find it tasting like ash. the only dish you yearn for is revenge.

you want the baron dead. you want the emperor stripped of his power. you want to watch the split second of horrified realisation on the reverend mother's face. 

you want them to burn, and burn they will.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @moonsoulk @alexandrainlove @saturnhas82moons @coureurs-de-bois9 @kamcrazy123 @beebeechaos @avidreader73 @yzuposts @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[ceruleancattail]

Yandere Octavinelle being fascinated with the red of your blood.

TW: yandere, gore, slightly suggestive

In the depths of the sea, the colour red doesn’t exist. Scarlet, ruby, crimson…. These mean nothing to the creatures born of the ocean.

Blood to them is just a dark liquid, with a strong, heavy metallic smell that weighs on all the senses. Something primal, yet alluring at the same time. Perhaps it’s the hunter genes in them, the need to sink their teeth into a squirming, bloody mess. To clutch and hold someoneuntil it breaks under their grip, to devour them whole.

The stench of blood drives all three of the Octavinelle boys slightly off the rails.

Azul nips your shoulders when he’s holding you. Dark red marks dip down the curve of the base of your neck, blood gleaming scarlet in the faint light. It almost looks like a string of pearls, draped across your skin.

Azul does it as gently as he can. The plush of his lips pressing softly against your bare skin, the chill sinking deep into your flesh. Before he takes a bite. Nibbling at your skin until his teeth breaks through and draws blood.

Sometimes, he sits back and watches his handiwork with a perverse pride. Watching your neck beaded with your very own blood, a grin spreading across his cheeks. Of course, you’ll never be far from him while he’s admiring you.

Azul’s legs tangled with your own, arms tight around your torso. Holding you down, your back pressed flush against his chest. Azul craves your touch, like a creature craves air. It hurts, whenever you’re not around. Like a dagger stabbing through his heart, again and again and again. A frenzied attack on his very being.

Look at the effect you have on him, darling. You won’t be as cruel as to leave him without a reprieve, would you?

Floyd doesn’t even give you a chance. Without so much as a warning, his fangs are already plunging themselves into whatever part of your body you deemed fit to expose that day. Floyd isn’t picky.

You’re unceremoniously shoved under him, Floyd’s fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. They dig in your flesh, leaving bright red welts against your skin. He throws you on whatever flat surface he can, before clambering over you. Pinning you down with the sheer bulk of his body alone. Habits from the hunt, trained into the memory of his very muscles.

Floyd quite literally knocks all the fight out of you, wrapping himself around you as tightly as he can.

Every part of your body is lined with violent, bleeding bite marks, scarlet gushing from them. There’s nothing but that metallic stench in your nostrils, stinging every crevice of your nose like a thousand wasps. Floyd isn’t gentle, not by a long shot. You’re just so warm and soft, Shrimpy….

You can’t really blame him for taking a bite or two, right?

Jade enjoys watching you squirm. There’s just that shiver of glee that runs down his spine whenever you twist and turn. Struggling in his arms, trembling away all the while. Watching your futile efforts is entertaining in itself. Separating yourself from him is something you’ll unfortunately never achieve in this lifetime.

Not when your blood is this sweet.

Jade’s fingers wrap around your limbs tight, the blade of his nails digging into your flesh. Lining your arms with crimson crescents, the ruby-red flaring to life on your skin.

He varies the pressure he uses to press down into your skin. Sometimes quick and firm, sometimes slow and gruelling. Leaving you on your toes, eyes watching his hands glide through your limbs with quivering fear.

Yet once you’re overly focused on the antics of his hands, Jade makes his move. Burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, fangs sinking quick and deep into your very flesh. Piercing right through your skin, drawing blood. He stays there for quite awhile, tongue lapping up whatever spills out of his bite.

It’ll be a shame to waste even a single drop, no?

[luvrxbunny]

okay so let’s think 🤔

i think it’s been a VERY long time since Joel had sex. i’m thinking he probably messed around for a few years after Sarah died just to feel something but after that didn’t work he probably just gave up

so now after over 10yrs of no sex, hes gotten to a point where he thinks he could just live without it. like he barely has the urge anymore.

he doesn’t even get a little inkling until he meets you. but it’s only a twinge in his gut. he doesn’t get hard but he does get turned on, sensitive and the twinge flares more depending on what you do, what you’re wearing, how close to him you’re standing.

but then you guys start dating. because shockingly.. for some reason.. he gives you that same reaction— of course a lot stronger on your end

he explains this all to you, he says it’s his age but you assume it also has to do with everything he’s been through. so you don’t push it! you’d never do that to him, give him that guilt or pressure.

but something about you being his makes that little twinge become a punch to the gut. seeing you in his kitchen, making him breakfast, makes something stir in his crotch that he barely even recognizes.

then he sees you fitting into a motherly role with ellie, maybe closer to a big sister but there is maternity mixed in for sure and that causes something he’s not even equipped to deal with.. he’s starting to get hard.

it’s just a halfie but it’s more than he’s felt in years. and he just has to wait for it to go down. it’s torture.

that goes on for a while. things get exponentially worse when you move in with him. you start acting like his wife. making him coffee to go to work with in the morning, packing him lunch and setting out his clothes. you even wash his boots for him when they get too dirty or on a particularly hot day you’ll have a bath ready for him when he gets home. he’s so hard, he’s leaking.

he eventually has to figure out how to jerk off all over again cus god knows what he likes now. it takes a lot of trial and error but he’s finally able to cum for the first time in way too long.

but that just makes everything worse

because now he knows how to solve the probelm, now that his body knows this is an option, he’s getting hard no matter what you do.

you could come to him with help for a recipe, not able to understand what they’re asking and he’ll get hard. you could walk past him, he’d get a whiff of your perfume and he’s hard. you touch his arm to move past him and he’s hard.

this leads to many trips to the bathroom. he doesn’t last long, not that he tries to anyway, and he’s found that he can cum many times in one day.

you start coddling him because he’s obviously fatigued and god that makes him hard. you cuddle him, letting him be the little spoon as you both take a “much needed and earned nap” and fuck he’s leaking into his boxers.

his entire body is tense and shaking in your sleepy arms. it’s never been this bad before. he can’t think of a time it was even this bad when he was younger.

he sneaks a hand down to his crotch and desperately digs his palm into the tent in his boxers. the relief is immediate, he has to dig into his lip until it bleeds to hold in the groan that wanted out. he can’t believe himself, the depraved man he’s become.

his hand slides down into his boxers and his stomach is trembling at his own touch. something about you being right next to him is turning all his senses up to 11.

his hand wraps around his cock and it’s the most heavenly thing he’s felt. he can’t help the moan of your name that slide up his throat and leaves his mouth as a whisper. you stir beside him and his cock pulses in his hand.

what if you woke up? what would you do if you caught him like this? would you like it?

i got carried away AGAIN

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Beef

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?" EDIT: I saw this same request being written by another writer and I want to say, don't send multiple writers the same exact request. I find this super disrespectful.

This one took some turns of its own while writing, I hope it's to your liking!!

When his group first came to the community you were excited. Finally you'd have a real huntsman around to share experiences with, you had missed it so bad.

Before the fall your family owned a shop, your father a butcher and your mother a taxidermist. You and your siblings learned every skill from hunting to skinning, prepping and using each part of the animal so none would go to waste. You hadn't hunted in so long, you weren't sure if you still could hunt succesfully. Even now you'd donate large, strong antlers and bones to the blacksmith in Hilltop to use in weaponmaking. You donated the furs you didn't fashion into items yourself to the seamstresses and prepped each type of meat for meals.

But somehow the new hunter didn't take the shared interests as something positive.

He brought you animals, yes. But never without throwing a judgy look around your workplace. Even when he came in with someone else who'd compliment your clean work he'd only scoff, dump his kills and head back out.

"Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?" The large moustached man laughed. You only shrugged as you lugged the deer behind your counter. "Hell if I know. Ain't digging it out tho. He seems to be doing okay with everyone except for me.." You returned the laugh while the man who's name slipped your mind helped you put the deer on your workbench, only to quickly drop the fake smile and leaning against your workbench.

You thanked him with a sigh and he gave you that look that told you to spill your thoughts.

"Fine. It sucks he's so weird. It'd be awesome to have a partner to do all of this with and to go hunt with." You busied yourself sharpening yuour knives, clearly still annoyed by the whole ordeal. "And..?" The long winded drawl made you roll your eyes at the man's persistance.

"And he's drop dead gorgeous, okay? There. I said it. I have a crush on the man. Happy no-- Ah fuck!" Your knife hit the floor with a clatter as you grabbed at your bleeding hand.

"Alright, up and out withya. To the doc we go." You were led to the infirmary and passed the source of your annoyance on the way.

Not that you were listening, but you still caught his voice in passing. "Damn folk 'ere don't know how ta do shit." You caught his glance in your direction and if you weren't busy keeping yourself from bleeding out you'd confront him.

It was a clear message that you weren't allowed to use the injured hand for your work and risk pulling the stitches, and honestly it just hurt too much to do anything with it. It sucked even more than having to leave your old home behind. There were people counting on your work so they'd have food.

It didn't stop you from going to work and doing as much as you could one-handed. You got there extra early to make up for the extra rime everything would take now, and by the time you'd normally open you found Deanna on your steps, greeting you with her usual smile. "I knew you'd be here stil working, but I brought someone to help until your hand is better. You shouldn't be overworking yourself."

As quick as she had entered she had left again as well, leaving you with your new work companion.

The hunter.

"Good morning." You gave him the kindest smile you could, but were only given a grunt in return as he tossed a bundle of tied up small game on your desk, rounded the corner and fished for a knife to start taking them apart.

Besides you explaining where to put all the different parts of the animal you two barely spoke, until the snap of bone pulled you away from your focused work of skinning yesterday's deer. "The hell?" You turned around to go see what he was up to.

"What are you breaking bones for?" His station was a mess, he pointed at the difficult point he was cuting along. "Easier ta reach without the bone in the way." Without even looking he continued. "Ya should know tha'. Damn city girl doin' mah work."

Again with his snarky comments. You shrugged it off and went back to your own station. Yiur bkood bloiled but you weren't gonna let him get to you, you had work to get done. "Try not to do that, we can still use the bones if you keep them whole."

You tried so hard to focus on your work, skinning the deer with only one functional hand was so difficult and even though you were having extremely conflicted feelings about it you still had to ask him for help.

"Can I borrow your hands for a minute? Can't do this on my own."

You held the large deer up and moved it as Daryl cut away the skin in the most choppy manner, creating a clear line where you stopped and he started. "Can you please work a bit mote delicate? That's gonna take me ages to clean up." You huffed from keeping the deer in place, but also annoyance. Why didn't he work like a hunter? He must know the code, right?

"Why're ya so on mah ass 'bout how I work? Gon' toss it out anyways. Just need the meat, tha's it." He got snappy at the end and you just stared at him, anger clear in your eyes. "Seriously?"

You let go of the deer and stepped away from the counter. "You're sent to MY shop. To help me because I happen to fuck up my hand for the first time ever since I got here years ago and all you can do is talk shit about me?" The knife that laid on the desk before now in your good hand and pointed at his chest. "God I can't believe I even fell for your hunting woodsman charms. You're just an asshole who doesn't give a shit about these animals or the hunter's code." With a clatter the knife hit the floor as you tossed it to the side with shaking hands.

"Get the fuck out of my shop and go find me someone who cares." With angry steps you turned around and headed out of the room, needing a break to gather yourself first if you wanted to get anything else done.

Now alone in the workstation, Daryl snatched up his catch from this morning and headed out.

~~

"You did what? Pookie you gotta listen to the girl." Carol sat down next to him and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. "You know you disrespected her life's work by now following her rules in her own shop, right?"

"I'on get why tha's even important anymore. We gotta eat, tha's all." Daryl's annoyed grumbles did nothing good it seemed as Carol continued to scold him like he was a child. "Did you for one second maybe think this work is all she has left to hold onto her old world self?"

"Cept this ain't the old world no more. She's waistin' time doin' all tha extra shit."

Carol was up and at the front door by now, putting out the cigarette in one of many ashtrays there. "Alright, up with you. You're apologizing with me right now."

The two took off to your shop but found no one there. Daryl's half finished rabbit still out in the open on the table while the deer was gone. "Ain't here. I'll head back tomorro--"

"No we're not. I know where she lives, come on." Carol practically pulled him along on the way to your place despite Daryl's protests.

You were working in your basement area when you heard a knock on the front door. "Come in!" Everyone who came to your place knew the door was unlocked and was free to come and find you, seeing you were either cooking, working on lounging when you kept the front door open.

"Hey, it's Carol! Heard about your hand, need some help around the house?" She needed an excuse to get an answer and find out where you were, so when you called back she knew to head downstairs.

Meanwhile Daryl just stared around to keep his mind busy. He found rabbit skins from prey he brought in wrapped around a pair of boots. He recognized the fur seeing it was a rare color. Further into your livingroom there was a deer pelt draped over the back of your couch. Also caught by him. The white spots over the back had one small flaw from where his bolt had struck right on a white dot. He remembered being proud of his aim for a minute that day.

"Daryl, come on." Carol's whisper-yell had him roll his eyes and as he passed your coatrack he noticed the hooks were all antler parts and the knives laying in the basket on the hallway table had bone handles.

So that's why you were so angry when he snapped the rabbit's leg and skinned the deer so carelessly. You did really use everything.

The two walked down the stairs to your workshop, Carol up front with Daryl following.

"Oh wow," Carol's exclaimation had you laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." You stood with your back turned, struggling to hang a piece of skin.

"Here, lemme help ya." Daryl's gruff voice was suddenly right behind you and you spooked, letting go of the pelt but Daryl caught it just in time, draping it over the wire. "Like tha?" His hands stayed up there and adjusted it to your liking, having stepped back to watch him and give Carol a questioning look. She just shrugged and gestured at the man who was again staring around the room. "What brings you here?"

Daryl looked at everything except you, he knew he'd lose all ability to speak if he did. Hell, he already had a difficulty getting his words out now seeing how wrong he was for not listening to you. "Came ta say sorry." He stared at the basket of furs labeled 'Donate'. "Shoulda known better than ta get angry. 'N I get why ya work thr way ya do now." Next to the basket sat a crate filled with thick, sturdy bones labeled 'blacksmith'.

You nodded and gave him an option. "Come back to the shop tomorrow. I'll have tou clean up that deer skin you almost ruined and you're following my teachings. I'll forgive you for wasting the rabbit."

Daryl chewed at his thumb, the other hand stuffed in his pocket and fidgeting with the fabric inside. "Yeah, alright." He nodded and looked over at Carol who had the brightest smile on her face. One that screamed victory.

"We'll get out of your hair, I'll bring by some lunch tomorrow at your shop." Carol waved on her way up, and just as Daryl was about to follow her you quickly spun around to grab something. "Oh, here." You held out a thin knife wrapped in leather, a small engraving of Hilltop's blacksmith on the handle. "I saw you took the rabbits, so if you haven't prepped them yet you can try this one. They're great for smaller animals."

He stumbled over his thanks as he accepted the knife and quickly headed out after Carol.

~~

You were back at work early the next morning, painkillers and a small breakfast in your system already and hoping to finish that damn deer. It still proved a challenge to get it from the cooler onto the workbench but you managed eventually, just before Daryl came in.

"Mornin'." Hid gruff voice sounded through the workplace as he rounded the corner and placed the knife from yesterday on the table. "Thanks fer lettin' me borrow it. Worked like a charm."

You picked up the knife and held it out to him again, only to recieve a questioning grunt in return. "It was a gift. To keep."

Daryl never got gifts. Everything he had was scavenged and well taken care of for longer use these days. It felt weird to keep it but he thanked you again and pocketed it.

Meanwhile you had grabbed the deer skin and laid it out where he'd be working. "Look here, I'll show you how to clean this up and you'll go fix the rest, okay? It'll take a while but it'll be worth it." Daryl stepped up to you and observed the way you took the knife to the uneven spots of skin and carefully smoothed it all out. The precision in your work was impressive to say the least. "How long've ya been doin' this?"

You dropped a cut off piece of meat into a plastic container and thought back to the old world. "I guess ever since my parents thought I was old enough to handle knives." You held the tool out to the hunter and watched him take it from you. "Your turn. I'll be hopefully finishing that deer so just ask whatever, whenever."

You were lucky a lot of the cutting could be done onehanded, and holding back pieces was okay enough to do with your wrist or hold something down with your elbow. But now that you had all the easy access meats off and seperated you ran into a problem.

"Fuck.." You needed help. The same kind of help that had you kick him out yesterday.

"Sup? Need hands?" He was at your side in a second, waiting for your instructions.

"I need to take off the ribs but I can't." You leaned aside to point around the carcass. "If you can press down here, and there." Daryl followed your instructions and put pressure on the spots you pointed out. "Then I can take this here apart." Your movements were followed and suddenly it was way too hot in your always cold workplace. Yesterday you'd be happy if he decided thr Kingdom was a better home for him but now that he apologized and proved to better himself after your misunderstanding you were back to being the lovesick puppy Abraham had made you out to be when he brought you home after the infirmary visit.

With how Daryl held the spot clear and open you had to get close to chop through the bone and separate it all in workable bits.

"Can I take one a'those later? Michonne asked ta cook fer her kids cuz she's out 'n Carol's off ta Kingdom--" "Throw the kids an old world barbeque! I'll come help. I'm sure you're skilled in roasting over an open fire with how much you traveled." The excitement was clear in your voice, and the sudden compliments and offers of gifts and assistance had him nervously fidgeting. But thinking about having a fun experience with the kids instead of just cooking and having dinner sounded way better than his original plan, so he agreed.

"Ya got supplies ta fix tha' in half a day?"

~~

The two of you cleaned up after finishing thr needed work and while you carried the prepped meats, Daryl had the bowl firepit on a kart together with the metal rack to hang over it. Yeah, he lived in a community now but he never guessed he'd be carrying around a whole barbeque setup like he was getting ready to throw a party in the old world. "Gotta drop by tha' house fer a sec, get Jude 'n RJ."

After he got the kids and you had everything set up Daryl got the fire started while you made a quick pantry run and dug through Daryl's kitchen for anything to add to the meals.

You brought whatever you found and set it on the side of the porch steps, keeping a path to the house cleared and sat yourself down in the front lawn as you watched uncle Daryl in action, letting the kids toss wood onto the fire and poke at it with a stick but making sure they kept their distance and wouldn't touch the hot metal.

It was heartwarming to see him laugh and have fun with them and watched him speak quetly to the kids with a finger pointed your way before the two came running towards you.

"Daryl says the fire's good for food! Can we put some on the thing?" Two pairs of big, begging eyes stared at you and saying no would be the worst so of course you allowed them, under surveillance and with an assisting hand. "Alright, pick something you wanna eat first and put it on a plate, Daryl will take it to the fire and I'l helf you put it on the rack, okay?"

A chime of "Okay!" baely left them before they were at the collection of prepared meats where you and Daryl joined them in picking.

While Daryl roasted the food over the fire you were tasked go keep the kids busy, but wirh hoe much they loved chatting about everything and anything it was an easy task.

The whole evening was fun and food and family and it reminded you of everything you missed in this new world.

Everything was good in this moment, especially when you heard a little exchange between uncle and niece.

"Uncle Daryl? Can we have more dinners with her? But also mom and aunt Carol next time." You watched Daryl look towards you for a moment before turning back to Judith. "'Course, she's teachin' me ta prepare food so we can do this with e'ryone if ya want. But!" He raised his hand and pointed at RJ, who came over to him too now. "Yer gonna be the ones askin' folk ta bring food too, so e'ryone has somethin' ta eat, 'kay?"

The two happily nodding kids proved that your time in the community just got a lot more fun.

Now, after the kids were long brought to bed you and Daryl stayed around the fire. Having taken the meat rack off and set asidr you were just relaxing and picking away at the leftovers.

"So," you started, watching the flames in front of you. "That community barbeque plan of yours, it sounded amazing especially how you brought it over to the kids. But, aren't you afraid it'll drain recources too quick?"

Daryl shrugged it off. "Maybe. But those kids'll make folks keep stuff aside fer it." The idea of those two running around the place collecting people brought a smile to his face. "'Sides, I ain't wastin' meat no more with yer lessons tha' I hope ya will keep givin' me."

Oh. He wanted to stay? At the shop? With you? You were pleasantly shocked with that news. "What? Ofcourse I'll teach you. But only of you promise to take me out hunting when my hand's okay again."

He let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love ta have ya around."

You stretched and laid down in the grass, looking up at the night sky.

"S'gonna be fun."

[floralpascal]

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

[andersonlore]

#BRAINROT! — abby anderson x reader

abby never thought she would be so lucky to have an opportunity like this. the two of you were roommates, two peas in a pod unable to be separated until ellie had won your heart. filled with anguish, abby had tolerated your relationship for the past two years. putting on the bravest face, being supportive, letting you lean on her through the lows of ellie.

ellie wouldn’t see it this way.

your girlfriend, seemed to grow an ugly green head at the burly blonde’s wondering eyes. ellie had made her case many times, trying to convince you abby wanted more than to be your best friend during your relationship. she wants you. stupid, rage fueled arguments started by her always ended up with a curse of roommate’s name. all roads lead to abby, especially your big blow up fight a few nights ago.

ellie gave you an ultimatum, her or abby.

both of them were here at the new year’s eve party with jesse as rhetorical hosts and you decided to stew. angrily, bitterly stewing. ellie didn't have the right to push someone out of your life just because she felt jealous. someone you care about, one of the few people who fully understands, helped you through your lowest moments and ellie expected you to just cut ties, as if it’s easy. as if you want to.

ellie is sitting next to dina on the couch and abby just made her way outside on the patio to watch the fireworks. the god awful turning feeling growing in the bottom of your stomach, nerves boiling over as rhea adrenaline pumped through your veins because you knew.

you knew, you knew, you knew.

the person you couldn’t leave without, the answer became clear when forced upon you.

you watch the clock as it winds down.

11:57

she didn’t speak a single word all night. all you were welcomed with were puppy eyes and a bleeding heart each second you refused to talk with her. ellie’s green orbs caught wind of your own, looking at her. you know she loves you, even when she can’t help it when she becomes crazy jealous, only spurring out insane nonsense. in her own way, she does but the anger her father left is drowning you, making it inescapable. she wants you to come to her, you know she does. even if ellie is mean when she’s afraid, she irrevocably in love with you.

but you can’t. because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself. you knew she didn’t want to be, but her eyes filled with regret as yours resembled pity. it beamed as brightly as a full moon on a starless evening, tears in her eyes as you made yourself across the living room to the back door.

11:58

your senses are met with the smell of cigarettes and cheap tequila, but you see her sitting beside herself away from her friends. she’s on a bench swing, rocking her body weight back and forth. she looks perfect with a beanie as her locks lightly framed her chin.

she’s anxious, forefinger picking at the label in beer, condensation making it easy for it fall away. abby wonders if everything will leave just as easily, you mainly. tonight at least she does, you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone really. she wonders if she did something wrong, if she’s hurt you in any type of way. abby hopes she’s just in her head too much because she can’t stand the thought of you hurt at all, but especially by her hands.

abby is pouting so badly, she misses you going up to her. until your weight sends the swing moving slightly, before she digs her feet into the wooden planks. you grab a swing of her beer, a drink you ate but you’ll need all help you can get if you still want to follow through with this.

it isn’t because this is difficult, it’s the easiest thing you’ve done all year. it terrifies how quickly you made the decision once you picture a life without her. you can’t see one, it’s not a possibility at all.

11:59

“c’mon, what you are you doing out here? it’s almost midnight. go find ellie, bub. is everything good?” abby says, but you almost don’t catch a thing she’s saying. you’re looking at her lips, licking your own in anticipation.

“it’s cold, too. where’s you jacket?” abby doesn’t wait for you to respond. she peels of your bomber, wrapping it warmly over your shoulders.

“i guess, i don’t know, i got distracted. i’m perfectly fine, abby.” you say, getting lost in beautiful blues. never really appreciating them like you should. if she let you, from this moment on, you’d never stop.

you’re leaning in closer to her, right hand resting on her thigh, and abby’s more confused than ever.

“are you sure everything is alright? why aren’t you trying to find ellie?” abby furrowed her eyebrows, trying to put the pieces together but nothing was fitting.

“i know exactly where ellie is.”

“okay….” abby looked at you skepticism glazed over her face.

the people you love, friends and family, they start count down from sixty.

“can you tell me what’s going on?”

“ellie wants me to make a choice and i’m making it. so just, sit there, ring the new year by my side and let me, please?” you begged.

“she really said it’s me or her?” abby whispered out, trying to hide the small grin trying to break out. all you did was give a nod.

the counts come down to twenty when abby asks another a question. “your girlfriend of two years gives you an ultimatum, and you’re deciding to sit with me.” the blonde is having a hard time believing you, slowly putting the pieces together one by one.

“yeah, there’s isn’t anyone i’d rather be. it’s you abby, i-it always has been.” you move your head so you can look at her, the two of you are leaning in closer, it’s when you notice the love in her eyes. how deeply it flows and god you hope it flows all over you. maybe it’s been there all along, just waiting for you to be there, waiting for you to feel the first drop.

12:00

everyone’s cheering as abby’s lips meet yours and dear god are they perfect. luscious, bottom lip separates your own as her calloused hands cradle your face as she angles the kiss deeper. abby pulls you closer as she handles you with all love in the world. you forget where you are and you’re moaning into the kiss, allowing abby to slide her velvet tongue in your mouth, claiming you for the first time.

the moment she’s imagined is more perfect than she deserves but she takes it anyways. abby can’t believe it as she pulls away, forehead resting against her, looking at you like you just the placed the world in her hands. and in a way, you kind of did.

“if there was ever any doubt, it’s always been you, too. but, i’m pretty sure you already knew it. i’m not one for subtly.” abby kisses you once more, and now you know this is how it was always meant to feel.

[mockerycrow]

super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3

i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!

Thank you so much and congratulations!

YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]

YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.

You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.

You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.

“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.

It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.

“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.

“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“

You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—

You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.

The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.

“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”

You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.

[ddejavvu]

ok pls i need you tp write this bc i can’t - reader gets into a fight with an unsub and ends up with a nosebleed she doesn’t notice afterward, and hotch tenderly holds her face and wipes it away

if you're interested in hotch holding reader's face to wipe away her nosebleed i'd recommend this lovely story from the equally lovely @luveline, several lines of which i think about daily ("Oh, honey." 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗)

--

You can only breathe easy once the doors to the cop car shut, and the unsub is driven away. He's out of sight and out of mind, and your shoulders sag with the weight of the worries sliding off of them. You're exhausted, and hearing Hotch's voice directing your team members is a welcome sound to your ears that have been ringing with sirens for far too long.

"Dave, you make sure Morgan gets checked out by the EMTs. He is not okay, no matter what he tells you."

"Will do," Rossi nods, wandering over to where Morgan is rubbing at his sore shoulder. Bashing through doors hurts, and you know he's probably feeling a deep ache in his muscles.

"Prentiss, you and JJ head back to the precinct and start filling out your paperwork, Reid can help once you fill him in. And Y/L/N," Hotch turns to you finally, addressing you as the last of the group. But he loses steam, falling silent when he sees you.

You don't know why, and it makes you tense. You're sure you look a sight, sweat-slicked hair and chest heaving from running to capture the unsub, but he's never been one to judge appearances.

After a quick moment of silence, one that seems like he's waiting for the answer to a question he hasn't asked, he speaks: "Come here."

You pause for a moment, but once you register his odd words, the last thing you'd have expected him to say, you race off on unstable footing. You linger a few feet away from him, brows raised cautiously.

"Yes, sir?"

"No come- here." He mumbles, closing the gap between you two so that the toes of his shoes almost bump your own. Your stomach tenses, and he digs into the inside pocket of his windbreaker to retrieve a packet of tissues.

"Sir-?" You ask, but before you can complete any further question, his hand lifts to cradle your jaw. Your chin rests on the side of his pointer finger as he angles your face upwards, towards the light of the moon that you're bathed in.

"Sir," You repeat, breathless this time. He smooths his hand up the side of your jaw, cupping your cheek as he takes a tissue and raises it to your lips.

"Your nose is bleeding," He murmurs, keeping his voice just as soft as your own. Your team members have dispersed, but if Morgan and Rossi glance over, they'll see the hottest gossip the BAU has had in years.

"Did you get hit?" Hotch asks, eyes focused on the space between your lip and your nose. The bridge of your nose wrinkles slightly as he presses the tissue gently into your nostril, wedging it tightly so that the blood can't escape again.

"No," You want to shake your head, but Hotch is holding it, so you can only speak. Your voice is weak, and muffled slightly by the press of the tissue against your lip.

"Do you usually get nosebleeds?" He presses, brows furrowing.

"No." You repeat, "Uh, maybe just- just adrenaline. Or something."

"Alright," Hotch nods, withdrawing the tissue from your face. It's stained crimson and it leaves a miniscule stain on his hand, something you'll be embarrassed about until the end of time. He hands it off to you and you stuff it back over your face, desperate to hide your flustered expression.

"Thank you, sir." You speak, voice nasally from the tissue obstruction.

He nods, tilting his head sideways towards the ambulance on duty, "I think we should get you checked out. Just in case, I know you said it wasn't an injury. But it's hard remembering what happened after the fact, and I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Um- okay." You agree, easier than you normally would. You're fine, you know you are, but Hotch just had his hands all over your face, so you might be on the verge of a heart attack, and medical attention when it happens would be ideal.

"Come on," He starts walking when you don't, his large hand against the small of your back to urge you forwards. Your feet crunch against twigs, leaves, and dirt alike, but you can't worry about getting them dirty, not when Hotch is guiding you to an ambulance after cupping your cheek.

You're in a haze when you step up to the ambulance, and Hotch answers for you when the EMT raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

"Agent Y/L/N has a nosebleed." Hotch informs him, nudging you forward still with his large hand, "I just want to make sure they're okay."

"Alright, let's check that out," The EMT nods, leading you over to perch against the open bed of the van, "Agent, are you feeling faint?"

Yes.

"No," You shake your head, moving more freely as you walk away from Hotch, "Um, I'm alright."

Two gloved fingers press into your neck and the EMT's face twists into a frown, "Your heart is beating very fast."

"Adrenaline." You blurt, seeing Hotch's face darken in a concerned frown from where he's listening in. It makes things worse, and you have to look away from him to lie to the EMT, "From- uh, the chase."

The EMT"s face stays pinched in a frown for a moment, but he studies your heaving chest, faraway gaze, and shaky hands, ultimately deciding that you're right.

"I think that's a safe bet. But keep an eye on that nose, if it starts swelling you should get it checked out."

"Will do, thank you." Hotch speaks for you once again, stepping in to walk you towards the SUVs. You're sure he's only being kind, that he's worried about your hazy demeanor, but he's only making it worse.

"I want you to sit down," He orders, but it doesn't feel like one because it's so kind. He offers you the front seat of his car, and you're sure you'll get a teasingly scathing remark from Morgan about it later.

Hotch reaches across you to snag a water bottle from the center console of the car, and you think your breath might never return to your lungs. Maybe you really do need an ambulance, especially when he holds the half-empty bottle out to you.

"I want you to drink this," He watches you take it with shaky hands, "All of it. And we'll get you more back at the precinct. Y/N," He ducks his head slightly to meet your eyes, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your head is foggy and your ears are ringing with voices telling you to just kiss him already. But you nod instead, raising the bottle to your lips the second after you speak so that you don't have to say more, "Yeah, Hotch. I'm good."

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Practice Makes Perfect (Larissa Weems x Reader)

Synopsis: Larissa stumbles into something you didn't want her to.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: none

You stared into the mirror, fingers clenching at your side. A deep breath in, slowly released through parted lips. Your gaze skittered away, searching out anything else in the room. Your bed, made in a hurry. The carpet under your bare feet, toes digging in. The armchair pushed to the side, worn leather old and comfortable. Your eyes alighted on each one but nothing could hold your attention.

Just the thought of doing what you planned on doing had your heart thumping in your chest hard enough to leave a bruise bleeding through your skin.

You turned your attention back to the mirror, dragging another long breath into your lungs. You could see, even when you were on your own, the nervous energy rolling off you.

“Okay,” you whispered, “okay.”

You pressed your hands together in front of your body, squeezing them until you could feel your pulse thumping in your fingertips. Another breath, another moment hovering.

“Larissa, I need to tell you something.”

You shook your head.

“No, far too ominous. Principal Weems, there’s something we need to discuss.”

Another shake of your head.

“Too formal. Ugh.”

You thrust your hands into your hair, fingers clenching until you felt the pull. You growled, wondering if it was time to give up. There was no point. It wasn’t as if you were ever actually say the words to her. It was all for your own benefit.

“Larissa, can we talk?”

You nodded.

“Better.”

You took another deep breath in.

“And if she says yes then I can keep going. Which would be…”

You met your own eyes in the mirror. Yeah, you definitely couldn’t ever say any of this in front of her. Larissa Weems deserved more than your fumbling confession. Especially if you couldn’t even say the words to yourself.

The truth was, you’d been smitten with the intimidating principal from the moment you’d set foot in the school. Her firm handshake and wide smile had enchanted you on your first day as a new member of staff. Her voice had been soft like butter and inviting like the summer night. You’d been enamoured ever since.

But, like so often in your life, you hadn’t said anything to her. Hadn’t made a move. Hadn’t tried to shoot your shot. You knew she deserved better than you.

Lately, though, you’d found her eyes turned in your direction more often than usual. The way her gaze lingered on you. The way her lips curled upwards whenever you said anything to her. It was giving you undue hope. It was stealing your breath and filling your head with all kinds of romantic fantasies. And rather less romantic fantasies.

So now you were pretending as if you were going to confess your feelings to her. Which you knew you wouldn’t. Not really.

“I know I’ve only been here for a few months but in that time I’ve come to realise something. Something important. Something I think you should know.”

You sighed. This was not going the way you intended. You were so bad at things like this.

“Larissa, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Whenever I’m in your presence it’s all I can think about. You’re all I can think about. When I wake up you’re my first thought and when I go to bed you’re my last. I want you in every possible way. You have stolen my heart and my soul and they are yours. I am yours.”

You blinked at yourself in the mirror. Your head slowly fell forward, hands coming up to cover your eyes, palms pressing in until colours burst behind your eyelids.

“God, why do I have to be so dramatic? That’ll never work.”

“Really? I thought it was going rather well.”

Your head jerked up, stumbling back a step. Your door, previously unknown to you, had been cracked open, just enough for a passing person to hear you talking to yourself. Now, a tall figure stood in the doorway, backlit by the light from the hall. Horror filled your veins, eyes widening and breath stilling. Your heart missed a beat before going double time.

“Principal Weems,” you breathed.

She took a step into the room proper, hand splayed on the door, pushing it closed. She might have been on the other side of the room, but without the possibility of someone else walking in on the two of you, it felt as if she was so much closer. Her lips were pulled up at the corners as she looked at you, all the way across the room.

“I think you can call me Larissa after that confession,” she said, voice teasing.

“You weren’t meant to hear that,” you were quick to say.

“But it was so nicely said.”

You looked away from her, cheeks heating under her penetrating gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at her, not knowing she’d heard your words, the ones never meant for her. That just so happened to be about her.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” Her voice was delicate, as if worried you were about to break. You shook your head, not able to even begin to explain all the ways you had to be embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “that wasn’t… it wasn’t for your ears.”

“Why not?”

You hadn’t noticed her approach until her finger was gently lifting your chin, forcing you to look at her. The expression on her face was one of guarded hope, and yet also so concerned. Her skin against yours was making your head spin.

“I didn’t…” was as far as you got to explaining your thought process.

“Were you rehearsing for a prank?” she asked, the shutters coming down on her face.

“What?” The idea made no sense to you, “no.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she said, “you can tell me. I won’t be upset.”

“Who would do that?” you asked, “that’s just cruel.”

“Yes, well, people can be unkind,” she replied, finally letting your chin go.

“It wasn’t anything to do with a prank,” you said, voice firm on that count. You didn’t like the way her body had stiffened, not quite looking at you, lips pressing together, “it wasn’t a prank.”

“Then what was it?” she demanded.

“It was…” Even when trying to assuage her fears, the words were getting stuck in your throat, “not important.”

Her gaze ran over your face, and perhaps she saw your hesitation written in your expression. She took a half step back, hands clasped in front of her body, putting distance between the two of you. Somehow, it didn’t stop your heart from feeling as if it was in your throat. Your fingers itched to reach out to touch her. You missed her warmth on your skin.

“It’s hard to pretend as if I didn’t hear your words,” she said.

“I’d prefer if you did,” you said, voice quiet, bowing your head.

“Darling, how can I when you were saying everything I’ve ever wanted to hear from your lips?”

Your head snapped up. The way she was looking at you stole your breath, so open and hopeful, but also as if steeling herself for you to laugh in her face. Words died on your tongue, stolen by her own confession. She straightened her spine, staring down at you, waiting for you to say or do something.

“You- what?” It was the best you could do.

“Surely you’ve begun to notice how enchanting I find you,” she said, softening just a touch.

You shook your head, slowly turning it into a nod. Of course you’d noticed the shift in the air. It’s what had prompted the whole stupid idea of confessing your own feelings. Her lips curled up into another smile again, self satisfied and a little bit cocky. She took that half step back towards you, finger under your chin guiding you face back up towards her.

“Now how about you tell me how you feel to me,” she suggested.

“But you’ve already heard it,” you said, anxiety beginning to bubble in your stomach again.

“I’d like to hear it again if you’re willing to say it,” she replied.

Her thumb brushed over your bottom lip and you whimpered, leaning towards her. Her eyes seemed to melt, turning molten before your very eyes as her gaze dipped down to your lips. They parted, practically begging her for a kiss.

“Please,” she whispered.

As it turned out, you weren’t able to say no to her.

“Larissa, I… from the moment I met you there was no one else. You were everything. Every dream I’d ever had, every fantasy, every… everything I had ever wanted. You’re still everything I want. When you smile at me, it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a thunderstorm. When you look at me, you steal my breath away. And when you touch me.” Your breath caught in your throat, “I’m electrified.”

“Oh, my darling,” was said with such reverence, such wonder. It made you glow under her gaze, taking her in, wanting to memorise every inch of her in that moment. She was resplendent, and the way she was looking at you made you think you could be too.

“Sorry, I’m being really over dramatic again, aren’t I?” You laughed but she didn’t.

“I rather enjoy the dramatics,” she replied.

“You do?” Your voice held too much hope, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. If you weren’t careful you’d get used to her looking at you as if you were the most wonderful being in the universe.

“I like everything about you,” she said.

Her hand drifted up, cupping your cheek as she drew closer.

“Larissa,” you exhaled.

“Yes, my darling?” she murmured, breath ghosting over your face.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” you asked.

“I was considering it.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Please do.”

Maybe she couldn’t say no to you either. Her lips brushed against yours as if testing the waters first. You gasped, hands finding her waist, pulling her body against yours. You couldn’t help it, she was irresistible. Her own hands were grasping your face, tilting it up as she kissed you again, deeper, more intense, stealing all of your breath.

She pushed you back until your spine collided with the cold surface of the mirror you’d been practicing in. Pinned between the warmth of her body and the chill of the mirror, you felt as if you were melting, turning into a malleable puddle, barely a person anymore as her tongue found yours. She sighed into your mouth, fingers sliding into your hair.

Your hands slid up her spine, clutching at her dress when her teeth sunk into your lower lip. Your moan was muffled and her answering groan was a delight to your ears.

When she drew back you were panting for breath. Her lipstick was smudged and her eyes smouldering, a flush high on her cheekbones. Her thumb ran along your lower lip again, laughing when you nipped at it.

“I’d like to take you out for dinner,” she said, voice husky and breathless.

“I’d like that too,” you said and something relaxed in her face, as if she’d been holding her breath, “I’d really really like that.”

“How’s tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Perfect,” you said, too quickly to be cool.

She chuckled, pressing another lingering kiss to your lips. And once again you were melting against her, uncaring that your confession hadn’t gone the way you planned it. It had still been perfect.

[obsessedfics]

Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 1

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 2 is already up and will be linked at the bottom of this page.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating: Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

September: When I met you

“Your coffee, miss.” 

“Oh, thank you,”  

Finally, you tore your eyes away from your book to smile at the girl handing you your drink. 

You gratefully accepted the liquid, hands wrapping around the warm ceramic mug as you inhaled deeply. The bitter scent of coffee with a hint of vanilla kissed your senses, causing you to smile. 

Taking a sip, your eyes wander to the large window as the warmth travels down your throat. 

Soft rain fell from endless gray. 

It had been raining for hours now, which drove you into the small cafe. You were pleased when you entered the space. A warm cozy atmosphere fragranced with coffee and paired with the sound of rain. 

What more could you want for a reading environment? 

You let yourself settle further into the oversized couch, watching placidly as drops of rain slowly travel down the planes of the window. 

Such a perfect day. 

Peering down at your watch, you sigh. It was nearly 5 pm. Idly, you run your fingers along the soft threads of the couch, drifting further into your own thoughts. You knew you had to leave sometime soon, but willingly tearing yourself away from this serenity seemed like a crime.

“Is this seat taken?” 

Huh? 

You pull your eyes away from the window to find a man standing before you, soaked to the bone in rainwater. 

Soft white hair stuck to his porcelain skin. It drew your attention, eyes unable to look away. However, when your eyes met his, your breath caught. They stole your attention; piercing blue that seemed to know everything . 

“No, go ahead. Do you need a towel?”

You realized you were staring all while feeling slightly awkward. There were many other open seats, why did he need to choose the one that was adjacent to you? 

“Do you have one?” he asked with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

Giving him a curt nod, you began digging in your purse until you found your folded hand towel. Silently, you handed it to him and he accepted it, sitting down with a huff, roughly drying his hair. 

Beginning to feel uncomfortable, you set down your coffee and resumed reading your book. Your fingers lightly played with the cover – feeling the embossed words, you traced the shapes, mind unable to focus. 

Who is this guy? 

You peered at him over the cover. 

He had unzipped his black athletic jacket and draped it over a chair. He now wore a simple white button-down shirt and it clung to his muscular body. The color of his skin bleeds its way into the white, stealing your attention. With eyes discreetly tracing the planes of his body, you noted the pale blue veins that delicately decorated his hands. 

You blushed, feeling as if you saw something you shouldn’t, so you quickly turned your eyes to the book – pretending to read.

Is he some kind of gym rat? Why is he so fit? He looked like a noodle a second ago… 

“Miss?” his low voice calls, breaking your thoughts.

You meet his eyes over the pages.  His hair, now more dry than wet, began sticking up in multiple different directions. The male is holding your towel out to you with a sad smile on his lips. 

Deciding reading is futile, you close your novel, placing it to the right as you shake your head. 

“Keep it,” 

You don’t want a wet towel in your purse and it seems he doesn’t have an umbrella. It’s not much, but you hope it’ll give his spikey head a little coverage. 

“You sure?” he asks, already leaning back to find comfort in his seat. You control the urge to stare at his body. So you grab your coffee, forcing your eyes to look at the deformed latte art. 

“I’m sure. It seems it’ll get more use with you. Why were you outside in this weather anyway?” 

It had been raining for hours, most people would be in their homes by now. 

He eyed you for a moment, white eyelashes downcast, almost like he was recalling a painful memory. 

“I wanted to be alone, my thoughts were loud, so the rain helped block them out. What about you?” 

How can you say something like that so casually? 

“Honestly, I was on my way home. But it had started raining and it led me here. Pulled out my book, and yeah…” 

You shrugged your shoulders. 

If you were being sincere, it was a needed escape. The walls of your home felt too suffocating, you looked for any excuse to not return. 

“What’s your name?” 

You now fully looked at his face. 

He is handsome, with a sharp jawline and regal features. Nothing about him was mundane, it seemed as if he was a sculpture; something perfect and unattainable. 

“Y/n, you?” 

“Satoru. What do you do for a living?” 

With eyebrows knitting together, you eyed the man.

What is this, a surprise interview?  

“I am an author and I do some remote networking for a hospital. What about yourself?” 

His eyebrows rose at your response and you couldn’t tell why. It’s not like your profession was anything to be shocked about. 

Taking a sip of coffee, you sigh. The warmth slides down your throat as the delicate taste coats your tongue. Silently, you savor the feeling – the easy calm that washes over you.

“I am a sorcerer,” 

The cup nearly dropped out of your hands.

Well, shit.  

It’s not that you didn’t know they existed, it’s that you did your best to distinctly distance yourself from that world. 

That explains the physique at least.  

“I am sorry, then.”

You watch as his eyes turn sorrowful, then he faces the window, cheek in his palm. 

“I don’t see any cursed energy coming from you, how do you know about us?”

 It’s a simple question, but in truth, it was perhaps the heaviest one to ask you. 

“A close friend. They went missing about 6 years ago. Police never got a trail, so I dug and I stumbled upon a lot of information I shouldn’t have. Been doing my best to ignore it since.” 

You weren’t sure why you were talking to this random stranger. Maybe it was something in his expression, with the way his eyes longingly looked out the window – as if he too missed someone close to him. 

Satoru hummed as he tapped a finger against his thigh, perfectly in tune with the soft rain. 

“I lost someone too,” 

The man spoke so softly you hardly picked up on his words. If you hadn't been paying attention to him, you may not have caught it. 

“A lover?” 

Judging by his expression, you guessed it had to be someone he loved. But, to your surprise, he let out a humorless laugh. 

“No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe. Because he was the only person who saw me .” 

Endless blue plagued with deep sadness gazed towards you, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“When it rains, it reminds me of him.” 

Your heart dropped.

“Where is he now?” 

Becoming fully invested in the man in front of you, you cross your legs, leaning your body forward. 

“I… He’s dead. It’s been a year,” 

Satoru’s eyes turned down again. 

Unable to stop yourself, you reached out, gently taking his hand, rubbing the cold, soft skin of his knuckles. Your touch shocked him for a moment, but he slowly relaxed into it, large palm melting in your delicate fingers. 

The contact made your body shiver.

When was the last time I touched someone?

“Do you want anything?” 

You didn’t want to offer him fake pleasantries, for you thought he wouldn’t appreciate it. However, you also didn’t know what to say. Nothing comforted you when your friend died, and you were positive it was the same for him.

“No, I am good. Thanks though.” 

Nodding softly at his words, you reluctantly remove your hand to find your drink. Again, you welcomed the warmth of the liquid, relishing in its taste. 

“Do you plan to leave soon?” the question left your lips in a whisper. 

“Yeah, but if I am being honest, I don’t want to go back. I kind of just want to forget, y’know?” 

At his honest words, you sighed, taking another long sip of your coffee. 

“Unfortunately,” 

He laughs at your answer. The pure sound makes you smile into your cup, shaking your head to try not to join him. 

Maybe some company wouldn’t hurt.

With eyes falling to your coffee, you let your laugh die in your throat. It had been so long since you willing had a conversation with someone. Now you felt stiff and awkward. 

“I-If you want, my home isn’t too far from here. You can wait out the rain there. I have some extra clothes that might fit you, that way we can wash your current ones.”

Finding a little bit of confidence you offered the man a small smile, to which he returned with his own. 

If you were being honest, it seemed like he needed someone. 

And maybe you did, too… 

“Inviting a stranger over to your home? That’s awfully brave.” Satoru said with some found bravado, which only made you chuckle. 

“Well yes, you are a stranger. But you also look like a wet, sad cat. It would break my heart to leave you stranded.” you tease back, earning yourself a smile from the male which made you bite the flesh of your inner cheek. 

He really is beautiful, it's kind of unfair.  

To hide your blush, you stuff your face into your mug, gulping down the remnants of your coffee. 

“Alright, as long as I don’t end up in a crop top and short shorts.” 

It was your turn to laugh. You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat, just imagining him in such an outfit was ridiculous – all long limbs in hot pink and denim. 

Somehow, you think he would pull it off if he tried. 

“Oh I don’t know, now you’re giving me ideas~” you coo playfully, wiggling your fingers in his smiling face. He feigned being offended, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking the other way – which only caused you to laugh harder and him to join you. 

The two of you giggled uncontrollably a bit, hands lacing over your stomachs. It was the only sound that could be heard other than the soft pitter-patter of rain. 

Deciding you had overstayed your welcome, you began collecting your items. In a pair, you exited the building. Your bodies huddle together under the umbrella that Satoru held. The male looked down at you with a wicked smile, then jumped in a puddle, effectively splashing the both of you with cold rain. You laughed and pretended to be annoyed, joining in his childish behavior. 

At some point, you began chasing each other in the rain, umbrella forgotten. You laughed like children till you reached your home, the two of you completely soaked. 

Still giggling, you unlocked the door, wiping your hair out of your face. 

“Wait here, I’ll get you a towel.” 

Knocking off your shoes, you padded over to your hallway closet, grabbing two towels. You were already running yours through the length of your hair when you returned to the male. He gratefully accepted the fabric, using it immediately against his unruly hair. 

It was then that you noticed his height and stature. His body is elegant and lithe, whereas he is tall, easily towering over your frame. 

This somehow annoyed you. 

Why do all the good genes go to one person?

“You’re staring,” he commented and you shrugged. 

“Just thinking you’re unfairly blessed,” 

A long sigh escaped your lips as you dropped your towel to the floor, hoping to clean some of the water off the polished wooden planks. 

“You wouldn’t be the first – Is that a cat?” 

Catching the excitement in his voice, you smile. 

“Yes, that’s Noir. Before you say it, I know she’s white. I just like the novelty of the name.”

Slightly shaking your hair, you hang up your jacket, watching Satoru stare at your cat out of the corner of your eye. 

“Will she attack me?” he asks and you hear an audible gulp . 

Satoru places his towel on the floor, cleaning up his own puddle of water with his foot to hide his embarrassment. 

Who knew such a big man would be so cautious of a little feline? 

“Here,” 

Holding your hand out to the male, you lightly cock your head to the side, wet hair tickling the nape of your neck. He places his large hand in your small one and you lead him to Noir, who is currently perched on your gray couch, cleaning herself. 

Gently, you guide his hand to your cat, allowing her to give him a sniff. Then, she affectionately nuzzles her head into his palm, purring when he scratches under her chin. You watch as he smiles like a big idiot, squatting down so he’s at eye level with your pet. 

“I think she likes me,” he whispers to you happily, and you roll your eyes playfully. 

“She likes everyone . That girl is also a glutton, the T-R-E-A-T-S are on top of the fridge. I am going to take a shower, keep my precious furbaby company will ya?” 

You couldn’t help the tight squeeze of your heart at the sight. In a way, they kind of resemble each other. Right down to the unruly fur and knowing blue eyes. 

“I wouldn’t let anyone harm her for the world,” he promises, and you chuckle. 

“Good,” 

—

Feeling some life return to him, Satoru pads over to the kitchen, securing the treasure; treats for Noir. 

“Here girl,” 

He makes kissing noises and the soft feline comes running over. She has a fluffy white coat, and if she had been asleep on the couch he may have mistaken her for a throw pillow. 

The cat ‘meowed’ at the sight of the bag, spinning in a circle then sat down, staying perfectly still. 

Oh, did your mommy teach you tricks?  

“Oh, good girl, Noir!” 

He excitedly plucked out a treat, placed it in his palm, and then brought it down so she could lick it off his skin. The scratchy feeling of her tongue tickled his hand until the snack was gone. Then she was sitting again, big blue eyes begging him for more. 

“Let’s see,” Satoru hummed happily, grabbing another treat from the bag, holding it a little higher than the cat. 

“Jump!” 

Noir did as commanded, gracefully jumping, catching the treat in her mouth, and snacking while walking in a triumphant circle.

“Ohhh~ You’re such a smart girl!” the cat rubbed his leg, purring affectionately into him. He knew that she was buttering him up, but he didn’t care. 

Over and over, he played with Noir. Giving her treats with each performed trick, petting her lovingly after every graceful action. Eventually, he sat down, ignoring the bite of the cool kitchen tile, letting the cat lay on his chest. 

He closed his eyes, enjoying Noir’s warmth and soft fur against his skin. Her soft purs tickled the pads of his fingers, making him smile to himself.  The feeling ebbed some of the ice out of his chest, blocking out the whispers of loneliness.

“I see my little lady has captured your heart,” 

He cracked open one eye. 

Y/n was smiling down at them, wet hair surrounding her soft features. She dressed simply in a white t-shirt and sweatpants, but she still looked beautiful. 

He sighed, kissing Noir’s soft little head, then stood. Y/n’s eyes followed his movement, every bit of curiosity easily readable on her face. He couldn’t remember the last time he was around a non-sorcerer. However, her presence was calming, and he was willingly letting himself drown in her serenity. 

“The bathroom is down the hall on the left. I put the spare clothes on the counter along with a fresh towel,” her eyes raked his frame. She then clicked her tongue with a disapproving look on her face. 

“Put those ruined clothes in the hamper and place them in the hall. I’ll wash them.”

Oh, she’s just not happy about my clothes. It wasn’t toward me. 

“You got it, boss,” 

Satoru smiled playfully, finding his familiar mask. He heeded her words and headed down the hall. Once in the bathroom, he shut the door and got to work. 

Quickly, he peeled himself out of his now-damp clothes and placed them in the empty clothing hamper. 

She’s kind.

Hiding behind the door, he slid the hamper into the hallway. 

“Clothes are out!” 

It was a bit odd, calling to her as he hid his naked body. It made him feel slightly embarrassed somehow. 

“Alright!” 

At her response, he closed the door. 

He felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he turned on the shower, stepping into the comforting heat. It warmed his rain-chilled flesh, blotting out some of the emptiness inside him.

Why do I feel so nervous?

While raking his hands through his hair, he let his day settle over him. 

In truth, he never meant to enter that cafe. He simply meant to walk around aimlessly, letting the rain soak him to his bones. Thoughts of Suguru always plagued him on days like this, and with the anniversary of the day he left passing, it was worse. 

He couldn’t let his students see him like this, so he sought to punish himself. Walking in the rain for hours, dropping all barriers, letting his body turn frigid. 

Then he saw her . 

He watched as she had to tear herself away from her book, brightly smiling at the barista handing her the coffee. She settled into the couch, drinking her drink while looking out toward the rain with such serenity he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was as if she was tranquility itself, surrounded by the warm glow of the industrial lights, dressed elegantly in soft white and pink. 

At that moment, she pulled him away from his haunting thoughts.

Feeling the unwavering need to be closer to her, he stepped into the shop. He didn’t know what he needed, but he found himself relaxing little by little under her whimsical gaze. The woman didn’t probe him or shy away. Instead, she offered her silent kindness and pleasant smile. He then found himself opening up to her, saying things that he hadn’t said to anyone in years .

She surprised him, when she softly grabbed his hand, asking if he wanted anything rather than giving her sympathy. He allowed himself to get lost in the kindness of her eyes. He let her touch him, having to hide the shiver that ran down his body from her warmth. 

Then, they were laughing. 

Before he knew it, they were chasing each other in the rain like children. Even though she was soaked down to her socks, she was spinning and laughing, hair sticking to her skin as she happily jumped into cold puddles to splash him. It was as if they had no care in the world. 

Not once did thoughts of Suguru attack him, even with the feeling of rain tracing his skin. 

A light smile tugged on his lips. 

Who knew I just needed to feel normal? 

—

You were setting out the items to make dinner when Satoru entered the kitchen. When you turned around, you had to stifle your laughter. 

The sweatpants, though several sizes too big for you, came to about mid-calf length on him. It also didn’t help that he was wearing a baby pink t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy house slippers to match. 

“You look dashing,” 

Placing a hand on your hip, you motion for him to twirl with your other, earning yourself a bemused glare from the male. 

“I look like a twink,” he huffs, a blush lightly kissing his pale cheeks, making you giggle.

“Can you cook?” you ask, completely avoiding responding to his statement. His eyebrows knitted, taking in the ingredients on the counter. 

“If you instruct me,” the words leave his lips slowly, still trying to piece together the dish you’re making. You laugh, walking up to him and placing a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder. 

“Don’t worry too much. It’s pasta, if you mess up just add more cheese.” 

Letting your eyes meet his, you hold your breath. 

They were softly looking down at you, corners folding kindly as if he was looking at something precious. The difference was so stark from the emptiness you saw earlier – it made your heart melt. 

“I’ll blame you if it goes wrong,” Satoru winked down at you, hand coming up to your hair, ruffling it lightly. 

“H-Hey!” you retort, and he laughs, easily avoiding your swipe at him. 

“What’s first?” he asks innocently and you huff while rolling your eyes, unable to hide your smile. 

“Let’s hope you don’t burn down my kitchen.” 

—

Turning on some music, you and Satoru worked together to make dinner. 

Laughter sounded throughout your home as you instructed the male. You watched as he fumbled with different utensils, unsure of what to do with each item. He would turn red, blaming you for not instructing him properly when you would tease him – which only resulted in you both laughing under your breath. 

Noir had joined the party, nimbly weaving between your two bodies, brushing up against your legs as you cooked. Once you were waiting for the pasta to finish cooking, you were humming and swaying your hips to the music. Satoru noticed and took your hands, joyfully dancing with you. 

You both danced around your kitchen, laughing infectiously. At some point, he picked up Noir, snuggling her close to his chest with one arm as his other spun you. 

The silliness continued through the night as you turned on a rom-com movie and halfway through Satoru was tearing up, asking you why he would leave the girl. You were too choked up yourself, shaking your head and cursing at the male lead, holding Noir close for emotional support. With both of you fed up, you decided there was no way you were ending on a sad note, so you turned on a children's movie to feel better. 

Which, somehow, made both of you more emotional. 

Once the movie was over, you washed the dishes together. It was only then you saw the time. 

“Oh my god!” you cried, almost dropping the freshly dried plate. 

“What?” Satoru asked, much calmer than you. 

“It’s midnight! Do you live close by? I’ll pay for your taxi back. I am so sorry, I lost track of time.” 

The male only laughed, making you pout. 

Why is he laughing?  

“No, I don’t live near here. The taxi would be expensive. I’ll find a hotel, don’t worry about it.” he smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You shook your head aggressively. 

“I can’t make you pay for a hotel! After all, I invited you over, so I should take responsibility.”

“I, um…” running a hand through your hair you sigh. There’s really only one option but that seems a bit much. 

“You can stay the night, the couch is moveable so I’ll just make it into a bed for you.” heat rushed to your cheeks. You were so embarrassed. 

I got lost in the moment . 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to invade your space.”  he took the plate from your hand and put it away. 

“I’m sure. I spend most of my time alone, anyway. Your company isn’t entirely unwelcome.” you could only hope you sounded natural. Internally your brain was screaming at you.  

Satoru rolled his eyes, making you chuckle. 

“Oh, wow, thanks. Makes me feel so wanted.” 

“I am glad you feel that way!” you chirp, playfully elbowing his side as you finish putting away the last dish. 

Satoru picks up Noir, nuzzling his nose against her pink one as he starts bad-mouthing you. 

“Your mommy is very mean. You should come live with me, I’ll give you lots of treats~” 

Rolling your eyes at the sight, you make your way to the hallway closet to pull out an extra blanket and pillow. 

Tossing the items on the couch, you cross your arms over your chest. Satoru was possessively holding Noir close to him, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“She sleeps with me,” the man-child announces, and you roll your eyes. 

“If you truly feel the need to claim her for the evening, then fine. Just don’t be surprised when she’s on your head in the morning.” 

Still eyeing you, he slowly places Noir down. The furball comes running up to you, rubbing her head lovingly against your leg. 

“Traitor! I just gave you so many kisses.” 

Laughing, you motion for him to help you move the couch. He obliges and you work together to shape it to a somewhat bed that will work with the length of his body. 

“You should learn spooky magic that makes you shrink.” you huff, eyeing his long frame. 

Again, he was back to looking like a noodle. But you knew that he packed muscle under the semi-baggy clothes. 

“It’s called jujutsu and I don’t think that exists. Also, you’re staring again,” he notes and you sigh, waving a dismissive hand. 

“I am going to bed, if you need anything just knock on the door.” 

You turn and you hear him chuckle. 

“Avoiding me?” 

Looking at him over your shoulder, you run your eyes over the length of his body, this time letting him watch your features. 

“You’re beautiful and strong. However, you’re also hurt and trying to piece yourself back together…” 

Pausing, you consider your words.

A fallen angel. Made of pure moonlight and stars. But shattered like the image seen through a kaleidoscope. 

“I hope you heal your heart, Satoru.” 

Without waiting for his response, you closed your door, locking it behind you. 

Your worlds are completely different, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had been through. Nor were you going to pretend to know. 

But if there’s one thing you could relate to, it’s trauma. 

—

Satoru spent the entire night tossing and turning. Noir was resting above his head, purring softly against him. With each passing hour, his throat became drier and drier, until eventually, he was coughing. 

My head hurts and my throat feels like sandpaper.  

Once the first rays of morning sunlight trickled through the window, Satoru was coughing aggressively while his body felt extremely hot. 

Am I sick? There’s no way. 

Y/n came out of her room with her hair a mess and her pajamas wrinkled. The second she heard his cough she was rushing over. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, voice soft and somewhat gravelly. 

She was rubbing the sleep out of her hazy eyes, already moving to press the back of her hand to his head. 

“No, I am fine–” he coughed and she flicked his forehead. 

“You're burning up. Most likely a cold from the rain. I’ll go get you some medicine, just rest.” 

Sighing, she ran a hand through her tangled hair. 

“Really, I’ll be okay. I’m–” Satoru couldn’t even finish his sentence. He started coughing aggressively, each retch of breath making him feel like he was eating sand. 

“Right, and I can fly. Don’t be stubborn.” 

Rolling her eyes, the woman padded over to the kitchen. 

“I can fly!” he shouted hoarsely like a petulant child, plopping back against the cushions, and reaching up to grab Noir. The second his fingers wrapped around her soft warmth, he brought her to his chest, rubbing his nose into her fur. 

“Good for you!” 

This is humiliating . 

After a few minutes, she returned with a mug in her hand. 

Slowly, he sat up. His chest felt like it was caving in and he felt incredibly lightheaded. Satoru eyed the mug and then gingerly took it from her small hands.

“What is it?” 

He sniffed and she raised her brow. 

“It’s ginger tea with honey and lemon. It’s hot. The honey and temperature, once it cools a little , will help soothe your throat.” 

Why does it sound like she’s talking to a kid?

Giving Noir a loving pet to the head, she crouched down so she was at eye level with the feline. 

“As for you, my sweet girl, your food is in the kitchen. Watch over this big child for me.” the cat seemed to understand its master because she ‘meowed’ in response. 

“I’m not a child,” Satoru said begrudgingly. Y/n only stood with a bemused expression. 

“Right.” she eyed him up and down once, then walked away. 

Satoru felt his face become hot, and it wasn’t from the steam kissing his cheeks. 

Usually, women threw themselves at him. It had happened so many times now with both men and women that he assumed he was everyone's type. But it seems Y/n couldn’t care less about his looks. 

For whatever reason, that bothered him. 

How can she call me beautiful but be so cold toward me?  

Without thinking, he gulped his tea, only to quickly pull away due to the heat burning his tongue. 

Cursing softly, he set the mug down on the coffee table, pinching his burnt tongue between his thumb and forefinger. He tried to reach for Noir for comfort, but she had long abandoned him for her breakfast. 

Y/n exited her room, hair pulled into a loose bun as she wore a baggy white t-shirt and black cargo pants. He couldn’t help but think she looked cute in her streetwear. 

Once her eyes saw him, she sighed, a soft smile on her lips. 

“You know, I did mention wait to drink your tea till it had cooled. I thought you were a good listener. But it appears I misjudged you.” 

With an elegant wave of her hand, she bid him farewell. He watched as she slid on an army green windbreaker and black Dr.Martens. Then she grabbed her purse and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

Knitting his eyebrows together, he turned his head toward Noir. She was eating her special food neatly, back to him as she softly purred. 

“Is your mommy always so mean?” 

—

Walking down the street you couldn’t help but look at the puddles decorating the ground. Yesterday was the first time you laughed and had fun in years. 

When you and your best friend moved to Japan it was scary. You were a foreigner and you didn’t know anyone. So naturally, when she passed, you became more isolated. You tried going outside to meet people, but sometimes it felt like too much. People were more interested in the fact that you’re from the States, they were never really interested in you . 

To add, you work remotely from home, so opportunities are truly limited. 

“Eh, adulting is hard~” you whispered to yourself as you entered a local convenience store. 

The clerk at the desk welcomed you in and you gave them a slight bow in response. 

Immediately you B-lined for the medicine, grabbing the items you needed. Then, because you were already here, you began searching the aisles for snacks. 

I was expecting him to be gone this morning. Even if he’s sick, I can’t say I am not happy for the company. 

After checking out you started to head home, thinking about all the trivial things you needed to get done today. You had deadlines to meet for your book and you had to look through the servers to make sure there were no network issues. 

Grabbing a coffee from a small shop that you frequent, you began frowning, feeling the lines form on your forehead as your daily list seemed to keep stacking higher. 

You were sipping on the last remnants of your iced latte when you opened the door to your home, finding Satoru fast asleep. 

Softly closing the door, you shimmied out of your jacket, hanging it on the wooden coat rack. Noir padded over to you, the sound of her little paws tapping on the floor sounded through the space. Smiling sweetly, you pat your cat on her soft head as you take your boots off. 

Making your way to where Satoru was on the couch, you note he seemed to look worse. His cheeks are flushed and his skin is pale. You make press your hand to his forehead, but you feel like you're touching a wall. 

What?

Your fingers were splayed flat against an invisible barrier, hovering right over Satoru’s body. 

“Strange,” you murmur in wonder, trailing your finger over the length of the wall. It stretched all around his body, protecting him in a bubble. 

Satoru opened his eyes, softly blinking as he adjusted to his environment, taking in your features.

Suddenly, that wall is gone, and your hand falls limply to your side. 

“It’s called Infinity,” he rasps, light cough already pressing out of his throat. 

You hold up your hand to silence him, quickly grabbing the medicine you purchased earlier.

“Don’t worry about explaining anything. Just drink this. There’s a sleeping agent in it, so expect to feel drowsy.” he opened his mouth to protest, but you shot him a pointed look, effectively silencing him. 

The male sat up, accepting your carefully measured medicine. He drank it, making a face as it went down his throat. 

“It tastes like shit,” he coughed and you rolled your eyes. 

“You know what that tastes like?” 

Leaving the medicine on the coffee table, you make your way to the kitchen. 

“You’d be surprised.” he shoots back, voice already sounding better. 

“Oh, I am sure~” you make your voice annoyingly sweet as you prepare a bottle of water for him. Once you made your way back to the couch you saw his features flatten, not taking your teasing kindly. 

“I have seen things that would probably make you piss your pants and cry.” 

He catches the bottle you toss him and you shrug your shoulders. 

“Maybe, maybe not. I may not be as soft as you think I am.” Satoru’s eyes widen in surprise and you turn away.

Plopping down on the overstuffed chair adjacent to him, you pull out your laptop from the convenient cushion/storage. Once you obtain your computer and headphones, you place your feet comfortably on the cushion, letting your back sink into the softness of the chair. 

“You’re a non-sorcerer, what have you seen that’s on the same level as curses?” his voice calls, no prejudice in his words, just general curiosity. 

You roll your shoulders. Suddenly, they felt heavy. Every time you thought about your past this happened. Your shoulders would ache as cold sweat licked your spine. 

Opening your computer, you sigh, remoting into the network server you manage. 

Maybe if I talk about it while working it’s not so bad . 

“Curses are born from human's negative emotions, right?” you start slowly, not wanting to look at him. 

“Right,” Satoru confirms, confusion in his tone. 

“You see, some people act on those emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, resentment…” Swallowing thickly, you continue.  

“I think you’ll find that some of those people are much more ugly than curses. Curses don’t wear masks, they are just as they are. People, however…” you cracked your neck, diligently typing in commands into your computer, eyes scanning your screen. 

I am not my past. It does not define me.  

You repeat this mantra to yourself, steadying your nervous heart.

“Have you experienced it? The ugliness of humanity?” you could hear the caution in his words, almost as if he was scared to say the wrong thing to you. 

Your hands had stopped typing entirely.

You opened your mouth to answer but felt the words die in your throat. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes shook. It was like two hands were wrapped around your neck, thumbs pressing into your windpipe, choking you.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your heart. 

I am not my past. It does not define me. 

“Y/n–”

“You should sleep, I’ll be in my office. It’s at the far end of the hallway. If you need anything just ask.” 

Closing your laptop, you place your headphones in your ears. You see Satoru say something, but you pretend not to notice, watching as his features twist with confusion and self-doubt. 

You walk away, playing music in your ears but you hear nothing. Everything is silent. 

Sorry, it’s not your fault . 

Once behind the door to your office, you let out a shuddering breath. 

Why did I pay for therapy if I can’t even talk about it? 

You spent years trying to feel normal, and for the most part, your brain let you forget. You could be fine for months, but then you get thrown into a space that’s a little too crowded and suddenly you can’t breathe. Someone touches your shoulder and you feel like a thousand spiders are crawling all over you. If you were in a space where there were too many noises, your brain would turn everything into white noise, leaving only the sound of your erratic heartbeat in your ears. 

It was the reason why you were single. The last relationship you were in ended with him telling you that you were too complicated . Your love language is physical touch, but sometimes that touch was too much, too overstimulating, or triggering. You enjoy being outside, but can’t be in crowded spaces without being plagued by anxiety, and living in Japan, well, it’s always crowded. 

Maybe I am just better off alone.

—

Satoru awoke to the sound of Y/n humming softly. 

Cracking open his eyes, he peered over the edge of the couch. It seemed she was making something, but her headphones were in and she was swaying lightly. 

He recalled the way she looked just hours prior; shoulders caved in, sweat running down her face, eyes distant. She looked like she would run away any second. So many questions circled in his mind, but more than anything he wanted to hug her. He had seen that look too many times.

Turning his eyes away from the female, he checked his phone. 

Shit, they’ve been calling me. 

Yaga had called him 6 times whereas Megumi texted him. 

“Where are you?” 

“I won’t be back for a little bit. Hold down the fort, kay’?”

Megumi immediately responded. 

“What are you talking about? Are you on a mission?” 

“Don’t worry~” 

“Stop being weird.” 

“If anyone asks, I am handling a personal matter.” 

“Whatever.” 

Satoru had a sneaking suspicion that if he admitted he is sick, he would never live it down. 

“You awake?” 

Y/n’s head was now peering over him, the ends of her hair tickling his face. He searched her features, but none of her earlier fear remained. She looked calm, but now he couldn’t help but wonder what lies beneath the surface of that practiced tranquility. 

“You’re staring,” her soft voice teases, making him chuckle. 

He moves to sit up and she removes her face from his view, stepping around the couch to hand him a bowl. He takes the dish from her hands to find a broth-based soup with meat, noodles, and vegetables.

“Did you make this?” he asks as she takes up a seat beside him, blowing on a spoonful of golden liquid. 

“Mhm. You’re probably not very hungry, but try to eat a little bit.” she hums as she takes a bite of her food, bringing one leg under her other, comfortably settling into the couch. 

Satoru follows her lead, blowing on his soup, and then taking a bite. The warm liquid soothed his throat as the broth coated his tongue. It was light but enjoyable.

“Do you cook often?” he asks, turning to face her and she does the same. 

Watching as she shrugged her shoulders, he bit back a smile. Her hair was a little messier and her cheeks were lightly flushed from the steam of the soup. 

“If I can, I avoid going out too much. I’m a homebody.”

He nodded his head at her words, understanding what she meant. He was the same way, but also different. Being out on a mission or being at Jujutsu High made it difficult for him to eat homemade meals like this. More often than not he would eat out. If he had a choice though, he would rather relax like this. 

“Do you not like people?” he ensured his voice was neutral, not wanting her to feel cornered or pressured. 

Meeting her eyes, he watched her swallow thickly, considering his words. 

“It’s not that. I just don’t do well in crowded, loud spaces. Were you able to sleep?” she changed the subject so naturally he barely caught it. Somehow, he found himself frowning, feeling as if he’d been robbed of an opportunity. 

“Somewhat. You said you’re an author right? How’s writing going?” 

He watched as she scrunched up her face, shaking her head. 

“Annoying. I keep rewriting this scene, but I can’t seem to get the atmosphere right.” 

Taking an aggressive bite of her soup, she set the bowl down, leaning her head back against the couch. 

Even when she pouts she’s cute. 

“What’s it about? Maybe I can help.” 

He wasn’t much of a writer, but he was also curious about what her story was about. 

Her face suddenly became red, so much so to the point that she turned her gaze away from him. 

“I-It’s not important. You said you slept somewhat well, right? Is anything uncomfortable?” she asked without looking at him. 

Smiling, he set his bowl down and poked her red cheek. 

“Eh? Why don’t you answer my question first~” she swatted his hand away but he kept pressing, now lightly pinching her cheeks. 

Y/n faced him, eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head, taking his hands with her. 

“No way! I will not divulge secrets of my unpublished novel to you.” 

Her small hands wrapped around his wrists to pry his hands away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he moved his hands to her sides, tickling her waist. 

“Hey! Ah, what’re you doing–” 

Laughter filled his ears, and it was like sweet music. He laughed with her, now moving her body to fully face him. She kicked her legs furiously, not caring that she was kicking his thighs at all. 

“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” 

Her hands were frantically grasping at him. She was grabbing his arms, chest, and neck, pulling him closer to her squirming body as she was shouting while laughing. 

“No, ah, please stop!” She cried helplessly, hands fisting the shirt that rested on his body, and grabbing it so harshly it pulled his body forward, making him catch himself on his hands to not crash into her.

His eyes widened. 

Her face was inches from his own as her hot, heavy breaths tickled his skin. Shocked eyes stared into him and he took in her features. Long dark eyelashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as her lips, full and parted, began distracting him. Her dizzying scent filled his nose– soft rose with a hint of sandalwood. He could feel the ghost of the rise and fall of her chest as her hands, still fisted in the fabric of the loaned shirt, trembled. 

Beautiful.  

Hesitantly, he reached up and traced the curve of her cheek. She closed her eyes, body shuddering as she leaned into his touch. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips, and he let himself enjoy the feeling of her warmth seeping into his pores. 

“Y–”

Noir jumped between the spaces of their bodies and planted herself right on Y/n’s face. Satoru reluctantly removed himself from the scene, allowing Y/n to pluck Noir off of her. 

“I– what has gotten into you Noir?” 

The woman held the fluff ball right above her head. The feline flattened her ears while she swayed her tail back and forth. 

“I think she doesn’t like sharing her mom,” he suggested and she lifted a brow. 

“Or maybe, my precious girl was saving me from my assailant.” She spoke in a baby voice, gently shaking Noir.

“Don’t say it like that! It makes me sound like a creep.” 

She sat up, pulling Noir close to her chest as she placed a kiss on her head. 

“You attacked me, as far as I see it, I am speaking the truth.” 

Turning her head in pure defiance, the woman set down her cat as she stood, taking their finished bowls of soup with her. 

“If you just told me I wouldn’t have attacked you!” 

“You admit to your crime, then?”

“I plead the 5th.” 

What was that just now?

Satoru placed his hand on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart. His cheeks felt hot, and he wasn’t sure if it was from his sickness or the lingering scent of her perfume. 

She scoffed and he heard the sound of water running. The only noise that filled the space was the sound of dishes being washed, and her making something. Once the woman returned, she was holding out a mug toward him while holding one of her own. He took the liquid from her hand, and she rejoined him on the couch. 

Eyeing the cup, he noticed it was the same tea from earlier, but much less hot. Y/n fidgeted with the string of her tea, he watched as she brought her knees up to her chest, eyeing him sidelong. 

“About earlier, I am sorry.” 

She lowered her dark eyelashes, eyes refusing to meet him as she took a sip of her tea. 

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have asked you something personal.” 

His response seemed to surprise her. She faltered for a moment, then set down her mug, slightly facing him. Satoru took a drink of his tea, the temperature pleasantly warm, easing his sore throat. 

“It’s not that. It’s just hard to talk about, my mind will suddenly go blank and I can’t think.” 

She wrapped her hands around her knees, resting her cheek on them as she let her eyes meet his. Solitary sadness peered at him, whispering of isolation and numbed scars – a look he knew all too well. 

“It doesn’t hurt me anymore, but forcing myself to relive memories is harder than coping with them. People always say talking about it makes it easier to deal with, but I think that’s bullshit.” 

He laughed lightly at her words, making the corners of her mouth lift softly. 

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened. I don’t think they would understand me if I said what I was really thinking.” 

His finger traced the rim of the ceramic mug, memories of his youth playing in his mind. 

“Whatever you feel, it’s valid. It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong.” 

His chest suddenly felt tight. Her words eased some of the tension out of his shoulders, making him avoid her gaze. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

She hummed in response and he swallowed his saliva. He needed to be careful, for he tended to be too insensitive at times. 

“You seem so at peace, but earlier, you looked…” 

He couldn’t find the right word. 

Distraught, lost, fearful, horrified, panicked?  None of the words seemed to fit.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head, and letting it rest between her legs. 

“Years of practice. It’s a mask of sorts. I let myself forget most days, and it’s easier when I fall into a routine. But sometimes, something will trigger me, and I kind of just… Shut down? I don’t know how to describe it, but I become numb to everything for a while.” 

Her words struck him. He placed his mug down and leaned forward, forearms on his thighs as he resonated with her. 

“How much do you know about the Jujutsu world?” 

Maybe we can relate to each other. 

“The basics. A lot of the times the Gojo family and the Six-Eyes came up in my research, but honestly, I skimmed through those bits, understanding almost nothing about it. Why do you ask?” 

She eyed him, and he inhaled deeply. Her stare was piercing; like she was dissecting him. 

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation. I am also a teacher to the new generation. I’ll save you from the specifics, but my role is incredibly isolating. Naturally, I can’t ever fail. There was a time when I thought I would be able to share this burden of power, but my dreams were crushed by the reality of my strength.” 

Satoru opened and closed his hands, familiar frustration rising in his chest. 

He looked at her and that frustration vanished. She gazed at him with open sincerity. Kindness traced her features, listening to every word he said earnestly. No sign of awe or admiration, just pure intent on understanding him. 

He cleared his throat.

“You see, despite the blessings I have been given, not once has this power made a difference. When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for. So I smile, laugh, and pretend I am okay. But in truth, I want to destroy the system and people that have stolen the youth of so many, consequences be damned.” 

The truth of his words lingered in the air. The only way he could cope after Suguru was by dedicating himself to a new goal, something substantial that would transcend through generations. 

“I can’t claim to understand the isolation of power, I am just an average person. But, I do understand the loneliness and yearning for someone to understand you…” 

Finding her tea, she paused, took a deep breath, and then continued. 

“I never knew my parents, I was an orphan. Whether they died or gave me up, I don’t know. But I bounced around from one temporary home to another. Most weren’t great. Some kept locks on the pantry and fridge so I couldn’t eat. One would lock me in a small closet as a form of punishment, that is if they were too tired to hit me. Either way, there’s not a lot of people who relate to that. So it’s isolating.”

Y/n softly smiled at him. No tears filled her eyes, despite the heavy words that left her lips. She just smiled sadly, eyelashes softly kissing her cheeks; it felt as if she was peering into his soul. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he took her hand in his, wrapping his fingers around hers, softly stroking her knuckles. She squeezed, soft skin hugging his own. He could feel the slightly rough texture of her fingertips as her warmth seeped into him, calling to his nerves.  

She laughed lightly, shaking her head, setting some of her hair free of its confinement to frame her face. Again, he was struck by her alluring beauty. 

“What?” the question left his lips in a breathless murmur. 

“Usually, I can’t talk about that without my heart beating out of my chest.” 

Without another word, she gently guided his palm to her chest, right above her heart. Subconsciously he held his breath as he felt the steady thrum of her heart. It softly beat against her chest, and he could feel it through the fabric of her shirt. Her lovely warmth kissed his skin, and he couldn’t tear himself away. 

She smiled. 

“No anxiety,” whispering in astonishment, her eyes searched his in wonder. 

He was locked in her innocent gaze – eyes swirling with perplexed emotions. 

Satoru smiled down at her, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his. 

If only for now, let me be human.

“Tell me more.” 

—

You spent the rest of your day exchanging stories of your youth with Satoru. Sometimes you laughed, and other times you teared up, but either way, you both listened to each other earnestly. 

It was different somehow. 

There was an ease to the flow of the conversation, and it washed away any lingering fear in your heart. It was like you could breathe for the first time – you could be you, and you didn’t shy away from it.

“How are you feeling?”

Having finished your 5th cup of tea, you were starting to get a little stir-crazy. Satoru seemed to be in higher spirits as his fever died down. From the looks of it, the medicine and his stupidly good genes fought off the germs quickly. 

“Better,” 

He sighed, stretching out his long limbs. 

You pulled your eyes away from the sight, trying not to look at where the shirt had risen over his stomach. 

“Well, would you like to join me for a walk?” 

It’s a small offer, though asking still made you feel self-conscious. Your fingers fumbled with the damp tea-string idly, a welcomed distraction from the growing heat on your cheeks. 

It’s not like I am asking him on a date, so why am I getting so embarrassed?  

Satoru gave you a knowing smile but then gestured to his clothes. 

“Just like this? Fuzzy pink house slippers and all?” 

Rolling your eyes at his tease, you motion toward the bathroom. 

“Your clothes and a toothbrush have been laid out since this morning. The outfit choice is yours to make. Brushing your teeth, however, is non-negotiable.” 

“Oh, planning on stealing a kiss?” 

The male stands, and you now have to crane your neck to meet his gaze. 

A smirk tugs at his lips, and it makes your mouth go dry. Despite the playfulness of his demeanor, there is something predatory in his eyes. He takes another step forward, invading your space. Not close enough to feel his breath on your skin, but it was the distance that lovers stood from each other. 

Finding some bravado, you speak. 

“Fantasizing about me already?” 

You feign confidence by placing a hand on your hip while puffing out your bottom lip. 

To say that you’re not attracted to this man would be an outright lie. Also, to say that you only have platonic feelings for him would be another lie. But you weren’t going to let him know that, nor were you going to let him toy with your feelings. 

Satoru's smirk doesn’t falter, instead, he lowers his eyelashes elegantly, looking at you in the way men look at women they’re enamored with. 

“You want to make those fantasies a reality?” his low, breathy voice caught you so off guard to the point your eyes widened and your cheeks became heated. 

“I– wha?” incoherent words fumbled out of your mouth. 

Then Satoru laughed. 

“You should see your face!” he said between breaths, making you only blush harder. 

Embarrassment rising in your chest, you kick his shin, grateful his magical protection bubble wasn’t up. 

“Ow!“ 

“Don’t pretend to be hurt! Go change you bastard!” 

—

Cold night air nipped at the skin of your cheeks as you and Satoru walked silently side by side. The quiet was welcomed as you relished in the calm of the night. The warm glow of the street lights complimented the cool evening sky. Though only being just past 9, the streets were empty, which you appreciated. 

Peeking at Satoru out of the corner of your eye, you smiled. 

His eyes, beautiful and alluring in the night air, took in his surroundings. They seemed to be swallowing every detail, brain dissecting and memorizing the scene in front of him: Stone tiled streets lined with a mix of old and modern homes. 

It made you wonder if he ever had moments of quiet like this. Because right now, he looked like a child who had never been outside a day in his life. 

“Do you not go on walks often?” you ask, breaking him out of his reverie. 

The male, with hair that of moonlight and eyelashes of silver, blinked – your words registering in his mind. 

“It’s not that. Usually, I am on a mission. It’s not often that the world is this slow .” 

Clasping your hands behind your back, you consider his words, trying to piece together an understanding. 

“Care to elaborate with the class?” 

The need to understand was greater than your pride. Even if you were to come up with a plausible answer, your guess would be further from his truth – and every part of you screamed to know that truth. 

You hear him chuckle under his breath, then he turns his eyes to the stars. 

“My eyes are special. To put it simply, they allow me to process everything around me at a much faster rate than the average person. So, usually, when I am out I am surveying my surroundings so much to the point where the simplicity of life is lost. Beautiful architecture no longer captures my eye, rather its existence becomes how I can use its shape to my advantage in a fight…” 

His eyes found yours as he held your curious stare side-long. 

“But right now, my mind is quiet. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. With you, everything seems to slow down. Almost to the point that I feel normal.” 

The sound of your skipped heartbeat filled your ears. 

Unable to hold his burning gaze, you turned your eyes to the starry night sky. 

The stars, bright and alive against midnight blue are surrounded by the white glow of the moon. They captured your attention – reminding you of the male at your side. 

“I don’t think I could ever see you as normal if I am being honest.” the words left your lips in a whisper. 

“Why’s that?” 

His voice was filled with innocent wonder, so you answered. 

“Everything about you is unnaturally beautiful. Not a single feature that decorates your skin is flawed. It’s like someone painted you into existence.” 

Perfect and unattainable. Something to be admired, but never to be kept. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you allowed your eyes to peer over at the tall male. He was smiling softly, eyes staring up at the night sky, the stars that rested there reflected in his irises. 

It was like he was talking to the stars, and they glittered brilliantly in response. 

“You see me so poetically,” Satoru murmured, mostly to himself. 

“How do you see yourself, then?” 

The question left your lips before you could consider its weight. You watch as he takes a deep breath in, whether it is to calm himself or to simply enjoy the atmosphere, you can’t tell. 

“Honestly? Objectively, I know who I am and the weight of my power, it’s not fueled by ego or feigned confidence, it’s just a fact. But when I look at my reflection, it’s blurry. I can’t see anything, because I resent myself. If I had just tried a little harder, been less selfish, and paid more attention, maybe things would have been different.” 

His honest words cracked your heart. 

You silently grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers. He leaned into your touch, molding his hand to yours, thumb idly sweeping over the flesh. Unable to resist the smile that tugged at your lips, you let his warmth seep into your skin. Your hands swayed lightly, and to anyone else, you would’ve looked like a couple.

If only for a short time, I will open my heart to you.

“You know, someone once told me that you can choose to live in your past, to let it define you and your life. Or, you can learn from it and grow into the person you’re supposed to be, carrying the memories of those most precious with you. So, when I feel lost in the murky darkness of my thoughts I tell myself: I am not my past, it does not define me.” 

You’ve never been this raw with anyone. Part of you was fearful he’d laugh in your face, but the other part of you whispered for you to let go. To continue baring your soul, because with him, he made you feel seen . 

Satoru tugged your hand, halting your movement, stopping both of you in place. You met his eyes, a sheepish smile on your lips as you tried to hide your embarrassment. 

“You are… A surprise.” 

There is a hint of shyness in his voice, which in turn made yours rise. The tips of your ears felt hot, but you couldn’t pull away from his stare. You allowed yourself to be swallowed up in the moment, surrendering yourself to him under the gaze of the stars. 

“Meeting your expectations?” 

You bite the flesh of your inner cheek, feeling naked under his knowing blue eyes. 

“Exceeding them and more,” 

His eyes folded kindly, white eyelashes kissing his cheeks as soft moonlight illuminated him in an otherworldly glow. You couldn’t help but be swept away by his beauty – as if he was pure moonlight itself with dazzling stars for eyes.  

For the second time this evening, your heart skipped a beat. 

If you keep looking at me like that, I am going to fall for you, you idiot. 

“Let’s go back, yeah?” 

With forced enthusiasm, you turn around to head back the way you came. A light laugh escaped his lips as he allowed you to pull his body, which you were grateful for. 

What he didn’t know was the act was to hide your deepening blush. 

“Yeah,” 

The evening ended and you went to bed feeling lighter than you had in years. 

But in the morning, it vanished. 

—

“Good morning,” you greeted him, having just finished freshening up for the day.

Satoru was dressed in the clothes you met him in, with the addition of a black blindfold covering his eyes. You saw that your couch was arranged the way it was previously, and Noir was eating her breakfast. 

He cleaned and fed my cat.  

“Morning,” his voice was somewhat distant, so you stood in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. 

“You leaving?” 

The fabric of his mask rises. Taking it as you surprised him, you rolled your eyes. 

“I have to go back,” Satoru answered and you nod your head, taking a deep breath. 

It’s not like you didn’t expect this. However, after yesterday, you knew you were going to miss him. 

“I see. Thank you for cleaning up and feeding Noir.” You say pleasantly, trying to make your voice bright. There was no way you were going to let your feelings show. It isn’t fair to him. 

Satoru took off his blindfold and stood, taking your face in his hands.

The sudden contact surprised you, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you steeled yourself, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“You don’t have to put on an act, Y/n.” his thumbs rubbed the soft skin of your cheeks as his eyes, endless sparkling blue, stared into you. 

You let out a small laugh, allowing yourself to lean into his touch. Closing your eyes, you begin committing him to memory – The callouses that peppered his hands, the warmth of his skin, the faint scent of fresh summer rain. 

“You don’t have to make it harder, you know.” 

Your words left your lips in a whisper, barely audible to yourself. But he heard it, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“Is it so hard to let me know that you’ll miss me?” 

His thumb traced your lower lip, and you shivered, tucking away that memory, too. 

“Yes, because then I’ll be admitting something to myself I am not ready to face.” 

With eyes stinging, you smiled sadly, drinking in his features for the last time. Soft and elegant with eyes that looked at you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. 

Let him go.

Lightly wrapping your hands around his wrists, you pull his hands away from your face, separating your bodies. 

“Please, go, and be safe.” Satoru nods. 

Don’t leave.  

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

I know I don’t belong in your world.

“Goodbye, Satoru.”

Will you miss me?

Leaning down, Satoru pressed his lips to your head. The soft, warm pressure made your skin tingle as his scent invaded your senses, giving you a false sense of safety. He lingered for a moment, hand brushing down your arm, making you bite your lip to hide your helpless whimper.

You closed your eyes and felt his warmth disappear. Only when you heard the ‘ click ’ of the door did you allow your tears to fall. 

Curling up into a ball on the couch, you hugged your knees, crying into your skin. Your heart felt like it was breaking into two. 

He was never mine, to begin with, so why did I get so attached?  

His scent lingered on the couch and you clung to it like a child, desperate and hopeless. You couldn’t breathe, and you were sure you were shouting. Noir came to comfort you, soft body brushing up against yours as you cried violently. 

That’s the first time he said my name… 

—

Satoru had to force himself to walk away. Her cries reached him through the door, and it took everything in him not to turn around. 

When she told him to leave, her eyes begged him to stay. When he kissed her forehead, drinking in her scent for the last time, he felt her small body tremble. While he walked away, his heart screamed at him to turn around, to pull her into his arms and soothe her pain. 

But that would only make it worse. 

Because their reality is that she is just a normal girl, and he is the strongest sorcerer of his time. Their worlds are completely different, and she would be in danger if he allowed her to be close to his heart. 

And he wasn’t about to allow himself to lose another person to his strength. 

Fall in love with someone else and be happy, Y/n.

—

“Why do we keep stopping in cafes, you don’t even drink coffee,” Megumi asks begrudgingly, but Satoru simply waves a nonchalant hand. 

I thought I saw her… 

“I just can’t help but chase the sweet smell of mochi!” 

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Satoru continues his leisure walk with his student. He hears Megumi let out a deep sigh – clearly getting more fed up with him. 

“Where are we going anyway? You’ve been shut in your office ever since you came back from your ‘personal matter’. Why drag me outside with you all of a sudden?” another long sigh accompanied by an eye roll. 

“I needed some fresh air and wanted company.” 

It was half of the truth, but he was leading them to a training ground so they could have a private conversation. Too many untrustworthy ears at Jujutsu High. 

“You really need friends your age. Or get a girlfriend, you’re getting old. At this point, you’re going to die alone.” 

Before he could get offended, a woman in an army green bomber jacket and a book in her hand walks right by him. 

Without thinking Satoru turns around and grabs the woman’s wrist. Her frightened eyes peer up at him and his heart sinks for the 10th time today. 

“U-Um, excuse me, do I know you?” 

Not Y/n. 

Megumi yanks him by his collar. Satoru let him, of course, but nonetheless, he yanked hard .

“Sorry ma’am, he confused you for someone else, forgive him.” 

The boy didn’t even wait for the woman’s response, he walked, dragging Satoru with him. 

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” Megumi whisper-yelled, spitting venom in his direction. 

Satoru sighed, letting his brief defeat wash over him as he righted himself. He put infinity back up, moving his student’s hand away from his frame, no longer wanting to feel the touch of another person. 

“I rather die alone.” 

That was all he said for the rest of their walk, pointedly ignoring every cafe they walked by. 

Part 2

[inou-ie]

Pairing: Shalom x female reader

Warnings: NSFW, degradation, overstimulation, mind break, begging, transfem Shalom, breeding.

MDNI

"I warned you.. didn't I?" Shalom had a gentle smile on her face but you know something bad is about to happen to you. After all, you dared to entertain someone who's clearly flirting with you.. right in front of Shalom. Now she have you locked up in her room with your head down while sitting on the edge of her bed.

Shalom leans down a bit to whisper right into your ear. "You brought this upon yourself.. you knew I don't like my possessions being touched by someone else, that includes you. I hate it the most. " She rests her hand on your shoulder, just the light touch alone sent shivers down your spine.

"I'm sorry.." You could only mutter those words while looking down, not able to look at Shalom due to embarrassment and fear.

"Sorry?" Shalom lets out an amused chuckle. "I'm not asking for an apology. Get on your hands and knees. Now." Shalom's smile disappeared as she starts to undress, throwing her clothes onto the floor. Leaving only her white long sleeves hanging onto her body. You quickly obeyed and got on your hands and knees like you're told, the sight of Shalom undressing made you feel more anxious than ever.. you knew where this is leading.

Fifteen minutes hasn't even passed since then but you're already crying and screaming loudly as Shalom takes you from behind roughly, holding your arms behind your back as she keeps pounding into you as hard as she can.

"S-Slow down.. it hurts..!" You begged Shalom, you feel your inner walls getting spread so widely to accommodate her cock's size but she didn't stop. Shalom just moved even harder, hitting your cervix in each thrust with ease.. she's that big.

Shalom stops thrusting for a moment to whisper into your ear.. "That's right, scream and beg like the little slut you are. I won't stop until all your holes are filled with my cum." She lets go of your arms before grabbing your hips instead, lifting your hips up while she pushes your head down to make you bend down.

"Don't bother begging.. that won't stop me." with that, Shalom resumed her relentless pounding into your tight cunt. Every slam makes a loud sound of flesh slapping that echoes the whole room along with your moans and pleas for mercy. The bed shakes and creaks loudly in every movement as if it's about to break but it didn't seem to bother Shalom.

"I'm sorry! Ah..! I promise.. I won't do it.. again.." You desperately begged as it feels like you're being split into two, the pain overcoming the pleasure of your encounter. "Please!" you cry out one more time in an attempt to make Shalom slow down even just for a bit.

"No can do." Shalom says quickly as she speeds up even more, her nail digging into your hips painfully as she pulls her cock out until only the head remains before slamming it back in whole, making you scream every time. "You're so tight.. even when you say that, your tight little cunt is just begging for me." Shalom lets out a loud grunt when she feels herself about to orgasm so she kept slamming her cock into you, not caring even a bit about your well-being.. All her focus is on her own pleasure.

"Shalom, please.. wai-" You threw your head back as you grip the sheets tightly when Shalom pushed even deeper into you, burying her cock deep while she bites your shoulder hard enough to make it bleed while her arms are wrapped around you so tightly to keep you in place while she floods your womb with her load. Your body shudders at the feeling of your womb getting filled to the brim.

When Shalom finished, she did a few more pumps before pulling out slowly. Watching as your pussy oozes out with her cum, your body went limp and collapse onto the bed, while still gasping for air you felt Shalom's hands turn you over to lie down on your back this time.

"You better stay awake." Shalom smiled wickedly as she positions herself once more, sliding her cock into you right away when you haven't even recovered. She moves your position into a mating press so you have nowhere to go while she slams her hips into you relentlessly, making you cry out loudly as she hits your cervix again and again but this time, harder than before.

"I can't.. take..." You mumbled in between loud moans, you can't even think properly anymore and you feel your consciousness slowly fading but Shalom slapped your cheek just hard enough to keep you awake. "No passing out. You have to be awake when I fill you up again." Shalom said sternly as she presses the bulge her cock is making on your body every time she thrusts, making you cry nonstop and then another wave of intense pleasure and pain hit you.

You felt another load of Shalom's cum being poured deep into you, making it hard to breathe. You looked at Shalom who's still pumping her release into you as you moaned loudly, your voice sounding hoarse from all the screaming and moaning.

"Look at how pretty you look right now, all exhausted because of me. You must be so full right now, don't worry.. we're not done yet." Shalom leans down as she holds your limp body close to hers, giving you a warm but possessive hug. You can't even talk nor think anymore, you're just laying still as Shalom's cum trickles in between your legs.. making a pool of cum on the bed.

"I hope you don't mind not being able to walk for days." She whispers into your ear, and then another set of ear-splitting screams and endless flesh slapping can be heard from the room.

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about being in a secret relationship with Gaz

Pairing: Kyle Gaz Garrick x Male Reader

Content tags: power dynamics (reader is a higher up, Gaz is ranks below him), suggestive, slight breath play, absolute tooth rotting fluff let’s not make eye contact after this:/ author wrote this in like 2 hours pls excuse any mistakes

It’s no secret that romantic relationships between soldiers are forbidden, so you and Gaz do your best to keep your relationship hidden, settling for passing glances, brief touches and conversing only in a professional tone when around other people.

However, in moments like these, where you’re hidden away from prying eyes, in some forgotten corner of the barracks, things are completely different.

You take note of the way Gaz fills out his gray shirt, how it sticks to him like second skin, the way it clings to his pecs and abdomen, how it curves around his toned arms and highlights his waist.

As you take a step closer, he subconsciously takes a step back up until he’s flushed against the wall with you completely glued to his front. You can feel his body heat emitting onto your skin, can even feel his boner pressing into the lower half of your body as you slot your leg between his thighs.

Your hand runs along the length of his arm, calloused fingers taking note of each bump and ridge embedded into his skin and how ever so smooth it feels under your fingertips before curving your hand at the back of his neck, not squeezing or anything but just resting there.

His hands finds home at your hips, fingers anxiously digging into the supple skin, anticipatingly waiting for what you’re going to do next.

Always so eager, you think to yourself

His neck is ever so warm under your palm, goosebumps rising under your touch as your thumb caresses his skin. You can even feel the bump and ridges from the army tags he’s wearing, can even feel the second smaller chain on him that’s carrying your ring.

You shift your hand just a bit, so it rests in the middle of his throat, slightly pressing down with your thumb on his windpipe.

He gasps, Adam's apple moving around as warm brown eyes peer up at you in surprise. You smile before you dive down to his neck, placing gently kisses along the length of it, only to hear the sweetest sounds sung from his vocal chords.

Those very same eyes flutter close, long black lashes resting upon burning cheeks, as his fingers dig further into your hips.

“Please,” he says, the words ever so shaky as they float into the air while one hand hooks around your own neck.

You move away a bit, suppressing a chuckle as you spot the disappointment on his face but the amusement bleeds out into something more warm as you take note of each faded scar on his face, each individual strand of hair on his jaw and cheeks, the way his lips seem to shine just as much as his eyes as he swipes his tongue over them.

So, so, so pretty always so pretty you think to yourself.

“Kyle” you finally say his name after calling him by his tile the whole day, the name sounding ever so familiar as it rolls off of your tongue, sounding like everything you wish to say to him and everything you don’t dare say out loud.

Your free hand cradles his jaw, thumb hooking onto his bottom lip to part his mouth watching the way brown eyes flutter open, dark irises swirling in approval.

Kiss me, please.

You gently slot your lips together, hearing the way he gasps, before he kisses back. The taste of cheap cafeteria coffee makes its way on your tongue and his soft lips a stark contrast to the coarse hair of his beard. The kiss continues to grow more passionate, til your tongue’s languidly dragging along his bottom lip and you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Just as things are about to escalate you hear his head hit the wall with a thud and you pull away, eyes wide mouth agape only to burst out laughing from the bashful look on his face.

“You okay?” You say with a fond smile on your face as you watch the way he rubs at his head and avoids your gaze.

“Yeah sorry, got a bit carried away,” he says words as bashful as the look on his face and once again you can’t help but burst out in laughter, head lolling onto his shoulder, smelling your body wash and your cologne on him as you rest your head there.

“Hey stop laughing it’s not funny,” although sounding annoyed you can hear the fondness in his tone as his hands gently stroke your back.

“It’s not funny” you say in agreement, hints of laughter still bubbling from your chest before finally fizzing out in a satisfied sigh.

“Sorry.., it’s just..,” you never finish your words as you nuzzle your nose along the fabric of his shirt, almost tracing the words into the material like the seams that are stitched into it.

It’s just that I love you.

And although you don’t say it aloud and he doesn't hear your words of affection, he just knows, you can hear it in the way he says your name, tone ever so soft, each letter rolling off of his tongue with so much consideration and love.

Your free hand sneaks under his shirt, his searing hot skin a stark contrast to your cold finger tips, mapping out the road your hands have taken many times before, tracing across the scars and hidden tattoos inked across his chest and ribs, up to his shoulder where you pause your movements.

“Kyle” you say again, simply just because you can and because you hope he’ll say your name again with a nervous stutter and a hitched breath. You gently knead the flesh in your hands, hearing him take shaky breaths and the clinking sounds of his tags as you grab ahold of them, your gaze shifting between his eyes and lips.

There’s a question at the tip of your tongue, words that are abruptly cut off by his own as he changes his demeanor, voice stripped off of all warmth and affection as he pushes you off of him.

“Sergeant”

When you meet his gaze, you notice his eyes glued to something or someone behind him and as you turn you notice the presence of another soldier who seems unaware of what had just happened.

You snap out of your trance, hands falling to your chest to straighten out the crinkles on the shirt you’re wearing

“Good work today, sergeant Garrick” is all you say, although your voice is hoarse and your shaky fingers do anything but take the wrinkles out of the material, before you walk away, leaving him all flustered as you disappear behind a corner.

Later on you’ll find him again, later on you’ll lead him to your own dorm, later on you’ll have him sprawled out on your bed wearing nothing but your ring while making love to him but for now you’ll part ways in hopes of persevering this well kept secret that is your relationship.

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER EIGHT - campfire stories

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

By the time Ghost finds solid shelter, it's snowing.

You're in and out of consciousness the whole time he's walking, your mind fuzzy to the point where you're not sure how far Ghost treks from the lake you fell into.  His breathing, steady footsteps, and the feeling of his heartbeat thudding underneath where your freezing hands clutch around his thermal jacket help ease the cold, stubborn hold of panic on your mind.  Price checks in on you both occasionally as well, sounding frazzled as he rants to Ghost about the shitshow that was everything that's happened through the comms.  With the adrenaline gone, you're exhausted and freezing, and it feels like your heartbeat is pounding in your head as you drift in and out of sleep.

But he does find somewhere safe eventually; setting up a small camp under a small ridge in the forest to ensure you both won't be spotted by the helicopters and planes that buzz above.  You think, maybe, he doesn't realize he's doing it, but Ghost says the name of each aircraft that passes under his breath.  He does it enough that you're able to identify some of them on your own by the volume of the buzzing in the distance.

“Graves likes his F-16s,” you mutter after one passes overhead, and you smile smugly as he pauses in cleaning your head wound.  He huffs a breath, shaking his head at your antics.

“Smart kid.”

He gathers enough firewood around the area to last you the night and sets out his mask to dry whenever the fire's started; and it's then you notice the trail of blood that speckles the snow with his uneven footsteps.

"You're bleeding," you say, your voice still quiet and unsteady as he curses and fiddles with his lighter that doesn't seem to want to light.  

"S'fine," he breathes.  His hair is starting to freeze to his forehead—and the eye black on his face is smudged to hell across his crooked nose and on the gloves of his hands.  He covers the lighter with his hand to block the breeze that carries snow into your shelter.  "Just a graze.  It can wait."

Still, his lighter doesn't light.

Slowly, you shift your pack off of your shoulders.  You dig around inside it until your hands come into contact with cold metal, and you take it out.  

"Here," you flick your dad's lighter to show him it works, emitting yellow light that spans across your face before you shut it again and offer it to him.  "This one works."

He grunts his appreciation before taking the lighter.  Then, his brow furrows.  He doesn't immediately reach to light the fire, suddenly interested by the small device in his hand.  You watch as he turns it over.  He studies what's scratched into the bottom as something flickers in his eyes—confusion, maybe.  When he looks up at you again, you can't read his expression.

"Mutt," he says, slowly.  He holds the lighter up.  "Where'd you get this?"

Your brow pinches at his almost accusatory tone. 

"Dad had it," you tell him.  "Why?"

His eyes flicker back down to the piece of metal.  He flicks it open and presses the small flame to the tent of sticks and evergreen needles.  He doesn't answer, not right away, and it's impossible to tell what he's thinking as he successfully lights the fire before flicking the cap shut and sliding it into his pocket.  He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Your mouth opens to protest, but it shuts again as a small realization crosses your mind.  Your eyes widen as you come to the only conclusion you can even fathom—and even still, it's hard to believe.

"It's your's," you say slowly, searching his expression for any hint of emotion other than practiced indifference.  "Isn't it?"

He grunts, finally settling to sit.  He lifts his leg to inspect the bloody rip in his tactical pants, "It was.”

“So you're Riley?"

"I'm Ghost."

"That doesn't answer my question."

“Then Riley's dead," he deadpans.  "You happy?"

“No.  Far from it.  Why does my dad have his lighter?  Did he steal it?  Or—holy shit—" Your eyebrows raise at the realization.  "Is Riley my mom?"

He huffs, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Because nobody gives me answers,” you retort quickly.

A stare down commences.  Ghost’s eyes narrow at you, but he doesn’t have a response.  Then, he just shakes his head and continues his work.  He pulls his pant leg up and takes a knife from his belt, testing the grip in his hand.

“Turn around.  Go to sleep,” he tells you.  He grabs his mask from the side of the fire and slides it back on, causing his voice to be more muffled when he speaks.  “Gotta take the bullet out and I don’t want you watching.  You've seen enough today as is."

You're about to argue, but you fall short.  Your head hurts too bad to think of a proper response.  A huff leaves you before you roll over—pulling the thick S.A.S. coat he had lent you further over your shoulders.  It's still damp, but it's enough to quell your incessant shivering for the time being.

It's silent aside for the crackle of the fire and the sounds of Ghost performing impromptu surgery on his own leg.  Another surge of contempt fills you whenever he doesn't make so much as a grunt.  You envy his pain tolerance.  

You also can't sleep. 

It feels like all the mental progress you made recovering after the other week has been shattered and stomped on.  At this point, you're unsure if your shivering is due to the cold or not, because you can't help but flinch every time another aircraft flies overhead or when the fire makes a particularly loud pop.  Every time you drift off it's like you're falling through the air again, and you flinch awake.

It's the sound of Ghost cocking his gun after he's stitched himself up that does you in.

You jump upright, your breath gasping as you scan the area for danger.  Your eyes land on nothing except Ghost sitting at the other end of your shelter with his gun in hand, and you let out a breath.

"Fucking…don't do that again," you hate the way your voice cracks as you speak.  You roll over, facing the wall again.  This time, you're sure you're shaking from anxiety rather than the cold.

You feel his eyes on you, as you lay there; studying you.  You count the seconds, waiting for him to grunt and move outside to keep watch.  Outside, the breeze howls against the overhang, bringing powdery snow with it that stirs your blanket.  The fire cracks and you desperately want to turn over to warm your hands and your face; but you don’t.

Then, he sighs.  "Fuckin' hell…"

You hear him shift.  Suddenly, he's near you—sitting by your feet with his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the fire.  There's a bloody bandage around his leg, now, and his gloves are gone, leaving his hands stained with his own blood.  He scratches at the back of his neck as a few moments of silence pass and he seems to be hesitant about something.

Then, after a handful of minutes, he speaks.

“I was there,” he admits. “In Mexico.”

Your eyes open, but you don't look at him.

"He was already there when I showed up.  At that…cartel base.  Got the shit beat out of us together, you know."  He huffs a breath like he might almost be nostalgic for it.  "Hard to forget the man who was forced to bury you."

The fire crackles to your right and you clutch the jacket over your shoulders a little tighter.

"I don't know how much Price told you, but…he had this journal with 'em.  Would always talk about some kid.  Kept 'em going, I think.  Could go longer without beggin' for mercy like the rest of us…and it gave him the courage to try and escape, too."

Another pause.  The wind whistles over the overhang.  When he speaks next, his tone is grave.  Solemn.

"He set that place ablaze with the lighter I lent 'em," Ghost says.  "But he got stuck, told me to run.  I almost didn't…but he told me he wanted someone he trusted alive to keep an eye out for you.  Told me to look for you if he disappeared one day."

You let his words hang in the air for a second.  You don't realize you've been crying until your voice wavers when you speak.

"He didn't die that day," you mutter.

"He didn't," Ghost nods in agreement, his gaze still locked on the fire.  "And when he did go down, here in Russia, and Price came to me with this mission—I figured this was the perfect opportunity to return the favor for saving my life n' all.  'Tried to convince Price to keep you out of this, made him promise you wouldn't end up dead, but…'guess I should've tried a little harder, eh?"

Suddenly, Price's words from earlier that day make sense—and you rethink every interaction you've had with Ghost up until this point.  His subtle avoidance, his hesitancy when you first met, sparring in the training room…the irony of it all.  The first person you've met so far that knew your dad personally—and the only one you were scared shitless of.

You sniff and wipe at your face.

"You guys are the closest thing to answers I've gotten since he left," you say, meeting his gaze.  "So no, I'm glad I met you.  I'm glad I stayed.  Even if you are all assholes."

A moment passes where you both just look at each other.  He's even harder to read under his mask, and you think he's about to say something before Soap's voice cuts through the comms.

"L.t."

You sit up, holding your breath.  Ghost places his hand on the button to speak immediately,  "Soap."

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

A head with a mohawk pokes itself around the side of the cave, smiling as he continues to talk into the comms, “You’re favorite boy.”

Relief hits your body so hard you physically sigh, letting your head fall forwards into your hands at the thought of being saved.  Your previous conversation forgotten, Ghost chuckles, shaking his head before he stands to his feet.  “Took you long enough.”

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @karurururu @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @bebobeboben @enfppixie @lyd14k4y @tlkonthestr33t @raye2000 @shinchanboi @orkwardx0

[a-mint-bear]

Yandere Girl Types

The Super Fan

● She can't help but trail after you like a lovesick puppy. She looks at you and everything you do with the rosiest of rose-colored glasses. Whether you're the talented type or just an average person, she looks at you like you are her everything, because you are!

● Whenever you're together, she's a little clingy. But it's nice to have someone who likes you as much as she does. It makes you feel special, wanted. She's not shy about making the first move, and she's especially not shy about telling you how she feels. But she makes sure you know that you don't have to say it back if you're not there yet. She knows you will though. Soon.

● She sits and smiles at the pictures of you all over her room. Anything you've touched, she considers her greatest treasures. She saw you drop your favorite pen one day and meant to give it back to you, honest. But the moment she touched it, it was like something came over her. She stuffed it in her bag and took it home, and ever since, she can't help but take your things. Especially the stuff that smells like you. She keeps taking more and more of your things, but it's not enough. It's never enough...

● She makes copies of your keys when you "lose" them on day. At first, it's just to sneak into your place and take things she can't get otherwise, but it quickly escalates. She lets herself in and plays house, imagining your life together. Soon, she's watching you sleep and even lies down next to you, just for a little bit. She wants to touch you so badly...

● She wonders... if you woke up, would you smile like you always do? Would you hold her close? Would you be hers?

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

● On the outside, she's the nicest girl. Whenever you see her, she's always got a sweet smile on her face and is always willing to help you if it means she gets to spend a little more time with you. You think of her as the kind and generous type, but she doesn’t extend this behavior to anyone but you.

● She doesn't really seem interested in dating. Anyone who actually has asked her out gets turned down gently. But a few of them swear they could see a look of disgust flash across her face for just a second before the rejection, but they always thought they just imagined it. In reality, there's only one person on her mind, so no one else can even compare.

● No one sees the other side of her. The way she stares down the girl who always laughs at your jokes. How she swears under her breath when she sees how your best guy friend just casually touches your arm, how her nails dig into the palms of her hands until they bleed. But when your eyes meet hers, you’d never guess the things she’d just been imagining.

● She hears a rumor that someone is going to ask you out. At first, she just plans to put them in their place and remind them that you deserve better, maybe just harass them or scare them. Or maybe ruining their life a little, poisoning their friends against them or getting them fired. But the thought of them getting pity from you or running to you and telling you how she acts when you’re not around… The thought of you holding them close, telling them you how much you love them... Something in her just snaps. She catches them when they're isolated and gets rid of them. Nothing can ever be traced back to her.

● She can't risk you seeing her in a bad light, even if it's so the two of you can be together. Everything she does, it's all for you!

The Secret Admirer

● She's had a rough home life. She has no one in her corner, no one's been there for her. She doesnt have anyone she can call her own. Until she sees you for the first time. Something about you is just... right. You fill that empty spot she's felt her entire life and the thought of you is the only thing that makes life worthwhile.

● She's quiet, reserved, and always looking your way. You can feel someone watching you sometimes, but when you turn around, no one's there. You don't connect it to the girl you've seen around lately. It doesn’t matter to her how you treat her, whether you say hello, smile politely, or give her a look for staring. Any attention, good or bad, is everything to her. You're everything to her. But she can't tell you, not yet. If she messes it up, if you reject her... She couldn't live with that.

● You start noticing things. Little gifts someone has left you, sometimes snacks and treats. The book you've been reading suddenly has a pressed flower inside the front cover, baby's breath. You find love notes in your bag. Some are flowery poetry, others get a little steamy, but it's all a bit clumsy, somehow. At first you think it might be one of your friends pranking you, but no one you know would pull something like this. Maybe someone actually has a thing for you? But how are you supposed to respond when there's no way to give anyone an actual answer? You decide to just ignore it until this person actually decides to meet you face to face.

● You don't smile when you see her gifts anymore. The notes she pours her heart into get left where you find them. Seeing you just walk away when she does something for you shatters her. Love her, hate her, anything! Just don't ignore her!! Without you, she has nothing to live for... Please... Don't leave her behind. Through her tears, her agony turns to desperation.

● You can't get rid of her. She won't let you. Maybe... it's time for you to meet.

The Boss Lady

● You've been working under her for the last few years. She's powerful, she's beautiful, and so very, very intimidating. She gets what she wants, no matter who she has to step on. She seems to have locked onto you for some reason, having you run and get her things and having you stay and work overtime.

● She seems to like running you ragged and seeing you flustered. You have half a mind to believe that she’s been “accidentally” brushing up against you reaching for files or leaning to talk in your ear as you sit at your desk, her charming, sultry voice sending shivers up your spine. Your damn body is betraying you. You don’t want to think that damn tyrant is attractive! Your coworkers are jealous that you're spending so much time with her, but you think they'd think twice if they were the ones picking up her dry cleaning and coffee orders, day in and day out. You tell a coworker you'd quit, but you need the money too much.

● One day, she calls you into her office. She says she has a proposition for you. She wants you to be her executive assistant. It comes with great benefits and a HUGE pay raise. The work will be harder, sure, but you'd have to be an idiot to say no. But the conditions get more specific and odd. You would accompany her on all her business trips, eat all your meals with her, you'd even be living in her penthouse suite. At first, you think it's just a weirdly intensive position, she just needs someone to manage her life. But the way she's looking at you... it's like she wants to possess you entirely.

● All you can think to ask is, why you? There's a bored look on her face as she starts talking about her career. How her job and climbing the corporate ladder were the only things she put any effort into. Everything else was so tedious and dull. Until you started as an intern, dropping off her coffee order with that nervous smile. She started noticing how hard you work, how you never turn down her requests, how you try to hide your smile when she praises you... How your breath hitches when her hand brushes yours. And how, every day when you clock out, her world stagnates until she sees you again.

● Say yes, and you'll have everything you could ever want. But make no mistake, you'll be hers. And she has no plans to let you go.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 16

Chapter Summary: For all your encounters with the Upside Down you hadn’t had to deal with it directly. Now, in a fight in foreign territory, you and your friends must struggle to find your way back to the Hawkins that you are familiar with.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down freaky shit, blood/injury, trauma, angst

Word Count: 9.7k

Author’s Note: Yo sorry this has taken a while for me to finish, life has been low key a bit of a bummer recently. Also, (from the time I posted this) about 20 minutes ago I nearly deleted this. Like all of it. In a way that would have been borderline unrecoverable. So I think I deserve a cookie and a pat on the back for not doing that.

Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted! I highly recommend this if you want to keep up with the story since I don’t do regular updates!

Series Masterlist | Part 15 | Next Part

***

The water stung your eyes and you could only make out blurry shapes. You had never been the strongest swimmer and you were scared out of your mind that you would drown before you made it to Steve, but you didn’t care as you kicked your legs as hard as you could. You could make out red light radiating from a spot on the bottom of the lake and you redirected yourself towards it. That had to be the gate that Steve had seen, and he was no doubt on the other side of it, fighting for his life.

You pushed through the permeable membrane of the gate that seemed to pulse as if it was alive, shoving your way into the unknown. You were immediately met with the frigid sting of the cold air, but you could barely feel it as your eyes were immediately glued to your boyfriend, being attacked by several bat-like creatures.

“Steve!” You shouted as your instincts kicked in, grabbing an oar from a shipwrecked boat and smacking one of the creatures away from his side. The winged monster screeched and it was nearly enough to make your ears bleed. Suddenly, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie were right behind you, each with their own improvised weapons.

“Quick! Hold it, Robin!” Nancy shouted as her friend moved you pin the bat strangling your boyfriend down. Both you and Nancy continued to strike it with all of your might in an attempt to get it to release its grip around Steve’s neck but it seemed like it was no use.

“Come on!” You shouted, your eyes welling with tears as you became increasingly panicked by the second. You made eye contact with Eddie, your eyes begging for him to intervene. “Do something!” You yelled out, though you weren’t quite sure if your words were meant for your friends or yourself.

You could hear Steve struggling for air as he continued to choke under the pressure of the strangulation. And you felt your heart sink halfway to hell at the way his legs were flailing in every direction, his hands in an iron clad grip on the creature’s tail wrapped around his neck.

“Y/n! Behind you!” Eddie yelled out and all of the sudden you were knocked off kilter by a force from behind, claws digging into the tender skin of your back through your soaking wet clothes. You screamed out in pain, desperately reaching behind you trying to pry the thing off, but it was to no avail.

“Robin! Help!” You shrieked and she grabbed onto the bat’s tail, yanking at it harshly. You cried out in pain as her efforts to remove the monster caused its talons to dig further into your skin as it resisted her attempt to thwart its attack.

She finally was able to yank it free, slamming it into the ground as Nancy struck it with her oar. You turned to see that Steve was now standing and you almost cried out in relief that he was okay, but you were still very much in the thick of the fight and you weren’t about to celebrate too soon.

Steve continued slamming the bat back and forth on the ground until he finally stepped on one of its wings, pulling aggressively on its tail causing the monster to be ripped in two. He panted as he attempted to regain control of his breathing.

“Steve!” You called you, running towards your boyfriend as tears welled in your eyes. Your hands hovered over his body, afraid to touch him as you took in the sight of all of his wounds. He had deep gashes on his abdomen, skin missing from where the bats had been feeding on him. Your breath started to pick up, beginning to panic at the extent of his injuries. You didn’t care if you were the one to get hurt, but seeing Steve injured like that in such a life threatening scenario was enough to make you break down. “Baby,” your lip wobbled and a tear rolled down your cheek as you looked him in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” Nancy frantically asked, her eyes scanning over Steve’s body to assess the damage, gasping as she understood the severity.

“They took about a pound of flesh,” Steve replied and goosebumps erupted over your entire body, “but other than that, never better.”

Steve looked you in the eye as he added the last bit, clearly attempting to calm you down. Inside he was absolutely scared shitless, but he figured the better he did at maintaining a calm exterior, the less upset you would be. You didn’t even know how to respond, so instead of trying to formulate any words, you decided to pull him in for a gentle hug, being careful not to disturb his wounds.

He pulled you in tighter, not caring about his injuries and just needing more than anything to hold onto you. He swayed side to side as he rested his chin on the top of your head, knowing that whatever pain and scarring that followed was worth it if it meant that all of his efforts would contribute to saving your life.

“Uh, do you guys think that these bats have, like, rabies?” Robin suddenly spoke up. She was crouched down, inspecting a creature’s lifeless body.

“What?” Steve asked as his face contorted in confusion. Everyone turned to look at her with a very similar expression, her question seeming so out of place given everything that had just transpired.

“It’s just that rabies are like my number one greatest fear and I think we should probably get you to a doctor really soon because once the symptoms set in, it’s too late; you’re already dead,” she rambled on. Before anyone could respond to her, more screeching rang out from above you. Several more bats were flying in, no doubt responding to the casualties of their fellow creatures at the hands of trespassers. They flocked to the opening of the gate, sitting perched on the mess of vines, waiting for the next thing that unwittingly found itself stuck in this alternate dimension.

“Alright. There’s not that many. We can take ‘em, right?” Steve breathed out, gently nudging you behind him to protect you. You curled an arm around his, desperately clinging to him. In the past, every time you had fought off the supernatural, it had been on home turf. You were afraid of the odds now that they had the home advantage.

In the distance, more nauseating shrieks sounded off and through the lightning in the unnaturally red sky, you could see an entire swarm of the bat-like creatures approaching. “You were saying?” The words escaped your lips as you stared in awe at the monsters.

“The woods! Come on!” Nancy pointed toward the thicket of crooked branches, and the five of you took off running. You sprinted as fast as your legs could take you, but being less than coordinated, you stumbled a bit as you tried to keep up with your athletic boyfriend. He was quick to help you right yourself, making sure you were in front of him until you reached the tree line.

He felt his heart nearly stop when he noticed the blood soaking through the back of your shirt. He immediately felt guilt swarm in his emotions, wishing that he hadn’t brought you into this mess. Everything he did was to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt, and here he was, bringing you straight into the crossfire.

You had reached the forest, slowing down to a quick walk as you made your way farther and farther into the woods. You were still trying to catch your breath from running when Steve spoke up.

“Baby, your back,” his voice cracked a little as the words came out, and you could tell that he was mentally kicking himself for that fact that you had gotten hurt.

“Oh, Steve, it’s okay,” he opened his mouth to protest but you were quick to cut him off, “seriously. It doesn’t even really hurt; I swear.” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, it’s not like you hadn’t gotten ripped to shreds by an inter dimensional creature in the past. This was not your first rodeo.

He stared at you in disbelief, but didn’t argue. “Let me see it at least,” he offered a compromise, to which you couldn’t really say no. You walked a few steps ahead of him and lifted up your shirt, revealing the expanse of your back. Steve struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as he assessed the damage. Deep gashes littered your back and it was caked in blood that was beginning to dry. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, and Steve hurried towards you to pull your shirt back down.

He thought about the scars on your arm from the Byers’ living room. He thought about the way that he had just let you go back into that house. Steve had never quite gotten over the guilt of not immediately running back in to help you. He thought back to how your immediate instinct had been to care for others, always acting in compassion and selflessness.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Steve, we can’t leave, are you kidding me? They’re in way over their heads. They need help.”

“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you in there. It’s not up for discussion,” Steve argued, stepping around the door and reaching out to grab your wrist again. You quickly stepped back, pulling your hands out of his reach.

“Y/n, you’re not going back in there. I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I,” you shot back, turning back towards the door. You heard him call out your name again, but you were already through the front door, back in the discomfort of the Byers’ family room.

Steve watched you enter the house and felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t quite place the feeling because he’d never quite felt that way before. It was like a deeply rooted panic; like something was about to go horribly wrong.

He tried to shove it aside as he fumbled with his keys again, pulling the car door open. His heart still felt like it was sinking in his chest. His mind quickly flashed to how surprised he had been that you had knocked on his door. He thought about the fact that you must’ve walked all over town trying to find the Henderson boy. He thought about the fact that you had responded in compassion rather than condescension when he told you about what happened with Nancy.

You had every reason to not give him the benefit of the doubt, but you did anyway. He looked back at the house once more and the lights suddenly came to life, haphazardly flashing in a display of colorful chaos. With each flash of color, he could see your silhouette outlined through the shades adorning the front window of the Byers’ residence. By all accounts you should have been trembling, scared out of your mind, but to Steve you looked stoic.

He had a feeling that this was just the beginning of your story together, and he wasn’t about to let it end prematurely. He slammed the car door shut and sprinted towards the front door.

When he threw it open, he was thrust into the middle of the attack. His heart stopped when he noticed the way you were pinned to the floor, shrieking in pain as the creature’s claws were digging roughly into the skin of your arm.

“Give me that!” Steve yelled, ripping the bat out of Jonathan’s hand. He had been staring dumbfounded at the monster, petrified by his own fear. Steve reared back and swung as hard as he could, landing a solid hit to the creature’s side and knocking it off balance. He would never be able to describe the relief he felt as he saw you roll out of the way, no longer confined to the monster’s viselike hold.

Seeing the gashes on your back now just reminded him of the fact that had he acted sooner, had he simply followed you back in the house immediately rather than nearly bailing on you, the scars that littered your arm wouldn’t even be there. You’d have been safe. You wouldn’t have passed out and needed to go to the hospital. You wouldn’t have had to continue wearing long sleeves in public to avoid stares and questions.

You would have been okay.

But he didn’t go back in immediately. And now you had more scars because he didn’t just get out of the damn water quick enough.

Suddenly your voice registered in his consciousness, and he whipped his head around to attend to it.

“Steve? Hey, baby, you disappeared for a second there. Are you okay?” you inquired, staring up at him with the sweetest look on your face, so sweet in fact that Steve could’ve probably dropped to one knee and proposed right then and there. Guilt tore at his chest in a way that was much more painful that the physical damage those bats had done.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. No, I’m fine; just thinking, is all,” he replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant, not really needing you to know the weight he had been carrying since that fateful day.

You didn’t really believe him, but there wasn’t really time to talk about it as the bats had reached the tree line and you all had to break out into a sprint to avoid another attack.

***

You all crouched under Skull Rock in the Upside Down and you couldn’t help but feel uneasy at how weird it all was. You thought about all the time that Will spent in this place and you felt like you could throw up. He was just a kid. You were basically an adult and you could barely handle being down there; you couldn’t imagine how he had been able to survive it.

For your sanity, you shoved the thought away.

The shrieking of the bats dissipated as they finally cleared from the area. “That was close,” Robin sighed, releasing the breath she’d been holding as you all stood up.

“Yeah, too close,” Eddie complained, his eyes wide considering the fact that he was thrust into all of this. The rest of you had at least had enough experience with all of this crazy shit that nothing could really surprise you too much anymore. You were sure that Eddie was probably about to go insane with the impossibility of it all.

Suddenly, Steve stumbled, falling harshly against the side of the rock formation as he tried to steady himself.

“Steve?!” You shouted out, running to your boyfriend as he pushed himself back to a somewhat upright position.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he promised you, but you weren’t believing it for a second.

“No, no, no. You’re not. You’re losing blood!” You cried out, tears beginning to cloud your vision. “Come on; sit, please,” you begged him. Combined with the fact that he could barely stand anyway, your teary eyes were enough to make him comply. You tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt, hesitating as you looked at the severity of his wound.

You sniffled a bit before asking him, “you ready?”

“Just do it,” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut as he awaited the pain he knew would inevitably follow as you bandaged his injury. His heart broke at your whispered apologies as you wrapped the fabric tightly around his torso. After you secured the fabric, you leaned into him, wrapping him in a tight hug. You placed a small and gentle kiss to his neck before pulling away. “Thank you,” he whispered, and he wasn’t sure if he was thanking you for the bandage or the show of affection, but he decided it was both.

“So, uh,” your attention was drawn to Eddie, who had climbed on top of Skull Rock, “this place is like Hawkins but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Pretty much,” you answered as you wrapped an arm around Steve’s back to brace him while he regained his balance. Eddie paused for a moment before he began to get down. “Wait! Watch out for the vines!” You were quick to add before he could even take a single step.

“It’s all a hive mind,” Nancy quickly explained, recognizing just how dire this situation could become. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do if one of you misstepped and brought on an army of monsters directly fucking to you.

“It’s what?”

“All of the creepy crawlies around here, dude. They’re like one or something. You step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna,” Steve explained and though it wasn’t the most eloquent explanation, Eddie got the point and carefully maneuvered around the vines covering the iconic rock. If Steve had cared even a modicum more about school, he could probably tutor Eddie way better than you could.

“But everything from our world is still here right? Like besides the people?” Robin asked, her mind quickly trying to hatch a plan.

“As far as I understand, yeah,” you confirmed, looking at her with a bit of hope forming in your chest at the way her gears were clearly turning.

“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and get guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.”

“I highly doubt that the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin, but guns, yeah sure,” Steve responded, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You shot him a look that screamed “be nice” but you decided that you would give him a little bit of slack considering the fact that he was probably about two minutes away from dying if you guys didn’t show up when you did to save him. You felt like you could vomit at the thought.

“We don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns, I have guns…in my bedroom,” Nancy spoke up and looked between all of you.

“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns—plural—in your bedroom?” Eddie asked incredulously. Eddie didn’t know the half of it. Wait until he found out that you had guns too (but Steve didn’t really know about that either).

“A Russian Makarov and a revolver,” Nancy confirmed.

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one,” you reminded her, your mind flashing back to the way she’d pointed the revolver in your face as you had tried to deescalate the situation. In hindsight, there was absolutely no way in hell that you could have calmed that situation down.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Nancy replied sheepishly, and you just shot her a smile that let her know that she was forgiven…it would be kind of hard not to forgive her given the circumstances. Suddenly, something flashed across your face as Eddie’s denim vest hit Steve across the chest with a thud.

“For your modesty,” he glared at your boyfriend and you couldn’t help but chuckle. The levity didn’t last long as the ground began to shake. You stumbled, nearly falling, but Steve caught you and pulled you into him as you both braced yourself agains the side of the rock. You spun around in his arms, burying your face in his chest and clinging to him. Everything about this place was so unpredictable; he was your only constant.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Steve whispered into your ear as the ground continued to rumble and ripple underneath your feet. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, baby. I love you.” He placed a small kiss to your temple. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, beginning to settle as you focused on the way that Steve’s arm felt around you. You tried to imagine yourself in his bed, lying together on a lazy Saturday morning, pressed into his bare chest.

The earthquake slowed to a stop and snarling and screeching sounded in the distance. You shuddered, goosebumps erupting over your entire body as you pressed yourself further into Steve.

“So guns seem like a pretty good idea to me,” Eddie finally spoke up, Robin nodding aggressively beside him as they both began sitting up from their place on the ground. You took a deep breath as you looked up at Steve, worry tugging at the corners of your lips. There was so much you wanted to say to him as you looked up into his brown eyes, but instead, you pulled away, grabbing his hand and pulling him alongside you as you and your friends took off towards Nancy’s house.

***

Steve watched as you walked ahead of him, talking with Nancy and Robin as you tried to formulate a more thorough game plan. While you all considered what ifs and discussed the pertinent unknowns about the Upside Down, Steve fell into step with Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve finally spoke up to get his attention, “Hey, man, I just want to say thanks…for saving my ass back there.”

“Shit, you saved your own ass, man,” Eddie replied, “I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?”

“When you took a bite out of that bat.” When Steve looked at him confused, Eddie continued, “Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage? You know?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s very metal what you did, that’s all I’m saying...Y/n told me you were a badass—insisted on the matter, in fact.”

“Wait, she said that?” Steve confirmed, not quite believing his ears. Though he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but feel jealousy deep within his chest when he thought about the fact that you were tutoring Eddie.

Steve always just thought about all the times that he would quiz you to help you prepare for tests and how cute you looked when you were trying to remember something. Or how you were so sweet and patient with him when he was barely going to graduate and you helped him get a high enough mark in his history class. To know that Ms. O’Donell had set you and Eddie up as study buddies was nearly enough to make his blood boil. How long was it going to take you to realize that he wasn’t good enough for you anymore? How long was it going to be until you decided you needed something new and exciting, like resident bad boy Eddie Munson?

“Are you kidding? She worships you, dude,” Eddie explained, “you have no idea…it’s kind of annoying, to be honest. I don’t know why I care what she thinks, but, uh, guess I got a little jealous, Steve.”

Steve whipped his head up, anger beginning to grow in his chest as he tried to decipher what Eddie meant. Was he jealous because he was into you? Because that was simply not going to happen.

“I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude,” Eddie continued. Steve released the breath he’d been holding as he realized Eddie’s jealousy lied elsewhere. “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That like flies in the face of all the laws in the universe, and my own personal Munson doctrine.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He was honestly a bit flattered by Eddie’s statement because it confirmed that he had changed for the better. Steve never felt like he was enough for you, but maybe—just maybe—he was becoming the kind of person that could be. Eddie quickly pulled him out of his thoughts as he leaned in and spoke up again.

“Still super jealous as hell, by the way. Which is why I would never have jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any, uh…normal circumstances. Nope. Outside of D&D I am no hero; I see danger and I just turn heel and run, or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

“Give yourself a break, man,” Steve gave Eddie a sympathetic look. He wasn’t quite sure if he was saying it for Eddie’s benefit or his own as his mind flashed back to the way he was about to run that fateful day at Jonathan’s house.

“See, the only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you,” Eddie explained, his expression set in a way that made it clear he was serious. He gestured ahead to the three of you girls, walking alongside each other. “I was too ashamed to be the one that stayed behind. But y/n? She didn’t waste a second. She just dove right in. That was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve felt his stomach drop at Eddie’s words as he thought about the lengths you would go to keep him safe. It didn’t sit right with him and he was internally panicking at the thought of you putting yourself in harm’s way for him. His thoughts were interrupted as the ground began shaking again. His heart stopped as he watched the way that you refused to brace yourself, instead bounding forward into the clearing just past the trees. In the distance, you could see Nancy’s house and your stomach dropped at the sight of it. There wasn’t any way to describe it other than that it looked…wrong.

You jumped a bit as you felt a hand on your shoulder, relaxing slightly as you realized it was just Steve. You turned and looked up into his brown eyes, worry etched across your face. He looked tired and you knew that you probably looked the same. You were racing against time and fate and you weren’t sure this was the type of disaster that you would both make it out on the other side.

This time felt like an ending, and it felt inevitable. You shoved the thought down and swallowed the lump in your throat as you turned away and pushed forward.

“Hey,” you heard Steve’s voice as you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, slowing you down slightly. The rest of the group continued on, clearly reading the tension in the air and wanting no part in it.

“What?” The word came out more exasperated than you had originally intended. You could see Steve bristle at your attitude, and you watched as he took a deep breath, clearly trying to push aside his irritation.

“I just…you…you’re like really being impulsive right now, okay?” Steve finally settled on the words, knowing that they were probably very much the wrong ones, and his voice was tinted with annoyance. He hated that he felt like he couldn’t just talk to you; he never used to feel that way.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Your eyes narrowed as a quiet rage built in your chest.

Steve looked at you for a second, his eyes wandering across your face as he took the time to think about what he really wanted to say, his conversation with Eddie at the forefront of his mind.

“Eddie told me about how you dove in right after me. You can’t do that shit, y/n.” Steve warned you, his voice low as he tried to stay calm.

You scoffed, in disbelief of the words coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth. “Are you serious right now? What the hell did you expect me to do, Harrington? I wasn’t going to fucking let you drown! If-if we hadn’t gotten there when we did, you would have…” your voice trailed off, unable to verbalize the fate that Steve had narrowly avoided.

“It doesn’t matter, y/n,” Steve shook his head at you, his eyes locked onto yours. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. Especially if it was because you were trying to protect me. I want to protect you.”

“How is that fair, Steve?” Your eyes began welling up with tears, the anger slipping away from your tone replaced with a deeply rooted sorrow that tore at your chest.

“None of this is fair,” Steve’s voice failed him as his words came out in a whisper. It was weird standing across from him in this moment. Suddenly you felt like the girl that knocked on his door that November evening your sophomore year. You felt a pang in your chest as you thought about the chaos that brought you together, doubt creeping up in your throat.

Did Steve only love you because you were just victims of circumstance? If none of that had ever happened, would you have just been some girl he wouldn’t take the time to care to remember? How long was it going to be before he woke up and realized that there was someone better than you out there for him?

How long would it be until he was no longer yours?

A tear rolled down your cheek and you felt guilt flood your veins as Steve wiped it away, his hand moving to cup your face as he looked into your eyes. You tried and failed to swallow the lump in your throat, a small sob escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut tight and turned your head to the side. Looking at him with all that love in his eyes was too much to bear.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his voice was soft as he brought his other hand underneath your chin to bring you back to him. “Would you please just look at me baby? Come on, let me see those pretty eyes.”

You were falling apart and you didn’t know how anything or anyone could pick up the pieces.

“Talk to me,” his voice was a whisper. “Please.”

Your eyes were still shut tight, but you could feel his lips ghost over the skin of your neck as he dipped his head down to place a gentle kiss below your ear. His hands had dropped from your face, pulling at your waist until you were pressed together. He swayed gently from side to side, moving to cradle the nape of your neck in his hand as you buried your face in his neck. You inhaled deeply, trying to take in his scent, the only familiar thing about this foreign land.

“I’m just scared,” you whispered, gasping in air afterwards, barely in control of your own voice. You finally looked up at him and your watery eyes were enough for him to break.

“Me too,” he admitted. You took a deep breath and pulled away from him. He nodded at you and reached out to grab your hand while you rejoined your friends who were a ways ahead of you now. You were glad they were willing to give you guys the privacy you needed to figure out all of your bullshit emotions. Young love was usually messy, but it typically didn’t involve monsters and near death experiences. As Steve walked beside you, you noticed the deep bruise around his neck and thought back to the viselike grip that bat had him in and you shuddered.

When you reached Nancy’s front door you felt nauseous as you watched the way vines crawled up every wall, wrapping around her front porch. You took a careful step over a vine pulsing beneath your feet, wondering just how fast Vecna would know you were there with one misstep.

You wondered how fast everything would be over. If he would just take care of you then and there. Your hand went to the walkman in your pocket, still dry, sealed in its plastic bag. Steve’s hand darted out and gripped yours in his, his fingers interlocking with yours. He felt unsteady as he used his other hand to point the flashlight into the dark entryway of the Wheeler residence.

It was all ash and rot and vines, and it made you sick to your stomach.

“Might be time to hire a maid, Wheeler,” Robin attempted to lighten the mood but to no avail.

“Come on. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to,” she replied, and you didn’t blame her. You were glad you weren’t at your house; you didn’t think you’d ever be able to look at it the same again if you saw it in the state that Nancy’s was.

You all carefully made your way up the stairs, but you felt a tug on your hand halfway up and you turned around confused, Steve lagging behind and looking out over the banister.

“Steve, come on,” you shook his hand and he quickly whipped around to face you. He stared at you blankly, dropping your hand before responding.

“You head up there, I’ll be right behind you.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words. “Steve—“

“Y/n, just trust me, okay?”

The sincerity in his eyes is what caused you to cave as you took a deep, shaky breath and turned away from him, leaving him behind.

You joined your friends at Nancy’s desk where she was removing the lid of a shoebox to reveal…well, shoes.

“Those aren’t guns,” Eddie pointed out the obvious.

“These heels are pointy, but I was hoping for something more along the lines of a deadly projectile,” Robin stared at Nancy with intensity, the plan you had all crafted slowly falling apart before your eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Nancy whispered, her brow furrowed as she inspected the shoes.

“Maybe you left them somewhere else,” you offered, trying to keep the last little bit of hope you had in your chest alive.

“There’s a six-year-old in the house. I know where I keep my guns,” Nancy breathed out, looking at you with desperation. You knew the feeling. “And also, I threw these away years ago.”

The spark of hope fizzled out, turning to dread as you picked up a stack of index cards, clearly from one of Kaminsky’s insanely difficult chem tests your sophomore year. You felt a bit of jealousy tear at your heart, knowing that Steve used to quiz Nancy for that class. You had sat a row behind her and spent the rest of the year trying to push that envy down in your chest as he walked her to class each day. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that was over…but why had Nancy kept the flashcards? She was going into journalism.

Nothing made sense.

“Nancy…” you started off slow, afraid of the dots you were connecting. “These are from sophomore chemistry.”

“A-and…and this wallpaper…this is old wallpaper. And this mirror went to a yard sale!” Nancy darted around the room, pointing out all of the inconsistencies with the state of her room and the sinking feeling in your stomach grew.

She suddenly picked up a journal and started furiously flipping through pages, stopping dead in her tracks as she reached the last entry.

“Nancy, you’re scaring me,” Robin spoke up. You couldn’t help but feel the same.

“I think the reason my guns aren’t here is because they don’t exist yet.” She turned towards you and held up the closed book. “This diary should be full of entries but it’s not. The last entry is November 6th, 1983.”

You shuddered, goosebumps erupting over your entire body. “The day Will went missing,” you whispered. “We’re in the past.”

You all stared at each other wide eyed, trying to comprehend the implications of your discovery. Your moment was cut short when you heard Steve’s voice ring out, yelling. You felt like you could vomit as you cursed yourself for leaving him behind, sprinting down the stairs and bumping your hip on the corner of the banister in the process.

You hissed in pain, but you didn’t let it stop you from flying around the corner, where you were met with the sight of your boyfriend screaming out into the empty room.

“Dustin? Hello? Hello? Dustin?!”

“Maybe he really does have rabies,” Robin spoke and you elbowed her in the side, not thrilled with her joke.

“Steve? Baby, what are you doing?” You slowly approached him. He whipped around, shining his flashlight in your eyes.

“He’s here. Henderson. That little shit, he-he’s here. He’s like…in the walls or something. Just listen,” Steve explained through gasps of air. He began calling out to Henderson again, his flashlight searching around the room as if the boy would appear.

You were about to go retrieve your boyfriend from his obvious psychotic break when Dustin’s voice suddenly filled your ears. He sounded far away, but Steve was right. It was him.

He was here.

Your heart sank in your chest at the thought that Dustin might be in this alternate dimension with you. You began frantically searching the room looking for him as you all shouted his name.

“Alright, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag,” Steve spoke up and you rolled your eyes.

“Will. He found a way to speak to Joyce through the lights,” Nancy explained, quickly trying to flip switches on lamps to see if anything would happen.

You spun around quickly, ready to try any other lights in the room, when you noticed a shimmer around the overhead light of the Wheelers’ kitchen table. It looked like magic and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as it pulsed and wavered in the otherwise dark world you were in.

“Guys,” you breathed out, and Steve shined his flashlight up at the light fixture. You slowly reached your hands towards it and you could feel the way the particles in the air swirled around your fingertips, feeling a sense of electricity in your nerves as the lights pulsed on and off.

Your friends all joined you, each taking a turn to investigate the strange phenomena laid out before you. “It…kinda tickles,” Eddie spoke up, and in any other situation you would have laughed at Hawkins High’s biggest metalhead making a comment like that.

“Does anyone know morse code?” You asked, knowing that Dustin knew it like the back of his hand.

Robin and Nancy both shook their heads and your heart began to sink. It was all useless if no one knew how to properly communicate.

“Wait,” Eddie spoke up, “does SOS count?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, stepping aside to give Eddie room to tap out the code in the light fixture. Steve’s hand found the small of your back and you allowed yourself to smile up at him for a moment.

Maybe things were looking up after all.

***

You all sat with bated breath as you crowded around the side of Nancy’s bed. You ran your fingers through your hair, the anticipation making you almost want to pull it out. Steve wrapped a hand around your waist, squeezing your side as a signal to calm down.

It was sweet, but it didn’t really help.

“Come on, come on,” Steve whispered, his voice sounding desperate. He let his hand slip from your waist, allowing it to slide down your back and towards your back pocket, needing to check for himself that the walkman was still there. After he confirmed it was, he let his hand linger there a little longer, before slipping his hand into your other back pocket.

Steve’s love language was physical touch. There was no doubt about it. But you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that his need to have a hand on your ass outweighed the fact that you were in a scary as fuck alternate dimension.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Dustin’s voice rang out, echoing throughout the bedroom. Suddenly, you were staring into the shimmer from before, and you reached your hand out to touch it, desperately needing to find that warmth again in this cold, unforgiving place.

“Holy shit!” Erica exclaimed. You cringed as you thought about how she had been brought into this mess again too. You tried to shove the thought aside. You didn’t want to feed the guilt that Vecna was exploiting.

“Okay, we’re gonna unplug it but leave it there…try it now!” Dustin’s voice filled the room again.

Your hands hesitantly reached out towards the bed, hoping with all your heart that your message would translate to the Lite-Brite the kids had. You shakily wrote out the letters, cringing at how shaky your handwriting looked from how nervous you were.

Suddenly, Dustin’s laughter filled your ears. “It worked!”

You released the breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, and you just wished that you could somehow travel across time and space to give the Henderson boy a hug.

You wracked your brain trying to think of how to quickly explain what was going on. You decided on the word “stuck,” writing it out as fast as you could.

“They’re stuck in the Upside Down,” this time it was Lucas’s voice filling the room, echoes drifting through the open space. It was disorienting and it would be scary if it wasn’t the goofball kids you’d come to know and love.

“You can’t get back through Watergate?” Dustin asked.

“What the hell’s Watergate?” Your boyfriend turned to you, looking completely and utterly lost. You grabbed onto his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it as you looked up at him lovingly (and somewhat pitifully too, if you were being honest).

“Because it’s in the water and it’s a gate...” Robin explained so that you didn’t have to.

“Oh, that’s cute,” Eddie joked, and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure why Dustin had such an affinity for coming up with dumbass nicknames for the component parts of the Upside Down, but unfortunately he did.

G-U-A-R-D-E-D, you spelled out in the shimmer in front of you.

“We think we have a theory that can help with that,” Dustin spoke up and your heart soared. You didn’t want to spend any more time here than you had too, desperate for some sort of escape. “We think Watergate isn’t the only gate; that there’s a gate at every murder site.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words, your mind suddenly being pulled back towards your seemingly inevitable fate. You barely heard your friends discussing what Dustin could possibly mean. Their voices sounded faint and far away as you tried and failed to calm yourself down. Steve squeezed your hand, breaking you away from your thoughts and shooting you a look that said “are you okay?” to which you nodded. He didn’t really believe you, but he guessed that now wasn’t the time to argue as he watched Nancy draw out a question mark.

“Seriously guys? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you trust me?” The boy sounded exasperated and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“This kid’s gotta get his ego in check,” Steve spoke up, a look of disgust plastered across his face.

“I know! It’s his tone!” You complained. Steve opened his mouth again to continue your conversation about the Henderson boy when Robin cut you off.

“Hey, can you two stop talking about your pseudo-son and can we get back to figuring how the hell to get out of here, please and thanks?”

“How far is your trailer?” You turned to ask Eddie.

“Seven miles.”

“Uh, I know your house here is like weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit, but haven’t you always had bikes?” Robin asked.

Nancy didn’t say anything, quickly leading you all back down the stairs towards the garage, no doubt to find the bikes in question.

“This reminds me of when I taught you how to ride a bike,” Steve spoke up, a smirk plastered across his face. You smacked him in the arm and rolled your eyes as your face heated up, thinking back to the time he was describing.

It was the spring of your junior year, after Tina’s Halloween party and Dart and the tunnels. Your parents had picked up a lot of extra shifts and were gone most of the time, so you were staying at Steve’s pretty frequently.

He was driving you back to his house after school when he finally broke your comfortable silence, turning the radio down.

“Hey!” You whined, reaching forward to turn the song you had been humming along to back up, but he grabbed your hand and gently pushed it away. “I was listening to that, you know.”

“I’ve been thinking…” he started, and for a second you were worried he was going to ask you out. You felt your heart start racing and your palms start sweating as you tried to think of what you’d even say. It seemed way too soon; after all, him and Nancy had pretty much just broken up a few months ago, and you didn’t want to be some rebound for him to dump once someone better came along, besides, what if it ruined your friendship or—

Your thoughts were cut short when he finished his sentence, “I think it’s about time I taught you how to ride a bike.”

You stared at him dumbfounded, barely believing the words that had exited his mouth. “You’re fucking joking, right?”

“No, I’m dead serious, y/n.”

You chuckled, but it awkwardly died in your throat when you realized he was looking at you very, very seriously. “Why? Like pardon my French, but what the fuck?”

At this point he was pulling into his driveway, putting the car in park and turning towards you. He grabbed one of your hands before he spoke up again. His fingers toyed with yours as he stared down at them, too embarrassed by what he was about to say to make eye contact with you.

“It’s just that….ugh, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain,” he mumbled, and immediately alarm bells were going off in your brain. Steve didn’t get like this; he was confident, he said what he thought, and that was that. The fact that he seemed to be at a loss for words was more than a little concerning.

You pulled your hand away from his and you moved your hands to the sides of his face, tilting his head up to look him in the eyes. “Steve, what is going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I just think about how Dustin ran off from you in the fall when all that shit was going down and how you had to run after him. With all the crazy, fucked up shit that goes on here, I just would feel a little bit better if you at least had a more reliable form of transportation other than walking everywhere.”

You giggled a bit, and Steve glared at you, clearly not happy with that response. “Steve, I’m fine, I swear. I get around just fine.”

Your words didn’t seem to ease his frustration, so you tried again. “Besides, why ride a bike when I can be chauffeured around by you all the time?”

Steve rolled his eyes before taking the keys out of the ignition. “Come on, get out. You’re learning how to ride a bike.”

You sighed, unfastening your seatbelt as you followed Steve to his garage, He guided a bike out onto his driveway and placed a helmet haphazardly on your head, reaching up to fasten it under your chin.

“I feel like an idiot,” you spoke up, and Steve tried really hard not to chuckle at how cute and sweet you looked.

“Well, you’re such a genius that I think feeling like an idiot every once in a while isn’t such a bad thing.”

Steve held the bike up for you while you mounted it, placing your feet on the pedals.

“Alright, so you’re just gonna pedal your feet, and I’m going to hold onto the handle bars and everything’s going to be fine, okay?”

You nodded and did as he said, shakily moving your feet as you attempted to steer the bike. You practiced that for a while before he moved his hands to your hips to help you keep your balance, so that you could work towards steering the bike yourself without assistance. Finally, he let go and just like that, you were riding a bike.

“I’m doing it Steve! Holy shit!” You couldn’t believe it. Your parents had never been able to afford a bike, so you just never learned.

“That’s my girl!” Steve shouted out, and your heart nearly stopped. His words caught you so off guard that you lost balance, the bike toppling over onto the street. You caught yourself on your hands, but skinned them and your knees in the process.

Steve rushed over to you, his hands hovering over you as he assessed the damage. “Y/n! I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Steve, calm down,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t see how beet red your face was. You began to stand up, but faltered a bit, pain shooting through your ankle as you came to the realization that you must have sprained it. You hissed in pain, and suddenly, Steve was picking you up bridal style to carry you back to his house. “Steve! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he replied simply, and you tried to keep your face from heating up at the way his arms felt around your body.

He spent the rest of the afternoon profusely apologizing, and you continued telling him that it was okay, but he was still clearly mad at himself when you went to bed that night.

He laid facing away from you, and it made your heart hurt. You decided you needed to show him that you didn’t care and that you were okay.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute as you wrapped your small frame around his. Normally in bed, you were the little spoon in your weird in between relationship that you occupied. Never once had you been the one to initiate it. This was new territory.

You pressed yourself into the bare skin of his back and sighed at the warmth he radiated. Slowly, he turned in your embrace to face you, gently pushing a strand of hair away and tucking it behind your ear.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have pressured you. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“Oh would you just stop it! I’m fine, Steve! My ankle doesn’t even hurt anymore, and I’m glad I know how to ride a bike now. All’s well that ends well, okay?”

He was still mad at himself, but he decided not to argue, instead choosing to take a calculated risk.

He gently grabbed your upper arm, pushing you down to lay flat on your back as he shifted so he was hovering above you. He gazed down at you with a look that screamed determination as he slowly closed the gap between you.

He shot you a look that seemingly asked “is this okay?” and you just nodded, unable to speak in anticipation of whatever was about to happen. This was all the confirmation he needed before he dipped his head down, his lips settling below your ear as he placed a gentle kiss there.

You let out a shaky breath as you closed your eyes, reveling in the way his lips felt against your skin. He kissed down your neck and across your exposed collarbones, and you thanked your lucky stars that you had put on a tank top that left enough available skin for him to pay attention to. Your chest heaved a bit at his touch, and your hand darted to the back of his neck, holding him to you and running your hands through his hair. After a few more kisses that were getting dangerously close to your cleavage and progressively more intense, he placed one more below your ear before pulling away.

You stared up at him in awe as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his hair as he held it up in between the two of you. He took a moment to inspect the damaged skin on your palm, red and raw from when you had fallen. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth, placing the gentlest of kisses on it without breaking eye contact with you.

“There,” he whispered, “all better.”

That had been the first time he had ever kissed you and you felt your body growing hot just at the thought of it.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing you didn’t try to teach me how to drive,” you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off like you weren’t turned on by the memory of his lips against your skin.

Steve thought about it, and he wondered if teaching you to drive wouldn’t be such a bad idea. If you weren’t even dating and he had been able to kiss you like that when he taught you how to ride a bike, he was pretty sure the two of you were going to have a much more fun time in the back of his BMW after having you drive around the block for a little while.

Now was not the time to think about that though, and the two of you continued down the stairs, finally making it to Nancy’s garage as you each grabbed a bike.

Your legs were tired by the time you reached the trailer park, not being well suited for riding a bike such a long distance considering you had just learned how to about a year ago. Red lightning cracked through the sky, and you jumped every time you heard it. You gripped the handlebars tighter as you continued pedaling towards the Munsons’ trailer.

As soon as you pulled up, you all quickly ditched your bikes, each of you panting as you tried to catch your breath from the seven mile trip.

“That’s gotta be a Guinness World Record,” Robin spoke through gulps of air, “most miles traveled inter-dimensionally.”

“Just inhaled a bunch of that crap,” Steve grumbled referring to the ash as he coughed for emphasis, “it’s stuck in my throat.”

“Poor baby,” you attempted to patronize him, but your words died as a cough escaped your own throat, to which Steve shot you a condescending glance.

“Yeah, and who’s the baby now.”

“Will you two just shut the fuck up,” Robin coughed through her words, while Nancy rolled her eyes at the three of you. You crossed the threshold of Eddie’s trailer and you all stared silently at the pulsing, glowing gate above you.

“This is where Chrissy died,” Eddie spoke up, “like right where she died.”

A chill shot down your spine as you thought about Eddie’s description of Chrissy’s death. You tried to push the thought aside, but to no avail.

“Holy shit,” you whispered unable to pull your eyes away from the portal back to the familiar, despite how much you wanted to.

You watched as a shadow passed over the opening, and you felt nauseous at the thought of what it could be. “I think there’s something in there,” Robin announced what you were all thinking.

Something pressed into the gate, pushing at the glowing membrane before it suddenly burst, light pouring in through the now torn opening. You all backed up, shrieking as you all took defensive stances, ready to fight whatever you had to in order to survive.

Steve slowly crept towards the gate, looking up through it before whispering in awe.

“No way.”

A chuckle rang out that you would have recognized anywhere and you joined Steve to see Dustin smiling up at you alongside Max, Lucas, and Erica. They were upside down and it was do disorienting it was almost nauseating as you each looked up at each other through your respective ceilings.

“Holy shit this is trippy,” you laughed as Dustin continued to celebrate above you, thrilled that his theory was correct. The kids went off to go gather materials to hopefully bring you back to the real world as you waited in the Upside Down. Max and Lucas returned to your field of view, setting down a mattress that they had dragged from Eddie’s room to cushion your fall. You tried not to make a face at the way the sheets were stained.

“Those stains are, uh…I don’t know what those stains are,” Eddie began to attempt to explain but quickly gave up. Dustin walked over, holding together a rope he fastened out of several sheets.

“I’m not quite sure how these physics are going to work, but here goes nothing,” he said as he tossed the rope up through the gaping hole in the ceiling. “There we go,” he added as gravity caused one end of the rope to fall towards the floor in the Upside Down, “and if my theory is correct…”

He trailed off as he let go of the blanket and you watched as it miraculously hover around a central point between the two worlds, gravity working on either side to hold the rope securely in place.

Robin tugged on it to confirm it would hold and you couldn’t really believe what you were seeing.

“This is the craziest shit I have ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen some crazy shit,” Erica announced and you couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing just what crazy shit she was likely referring to.

“Guess I’m the guinea pig,” Robin spoke up as she attempted to climb the rope. It was surreal watching as the pull of gravity shifted, watching her tumble to the mattress below her as soon as she crossed the threshold back into the Hawkins you knew and loathed.

The four of you that remained looked at each other, silently trying to debate who would be next to leave the Upside Down.

“Alright, guess I’ll go,” Eddie spoke up hesitantly, climbing up the makeshift rope. Nancy followed after him and then suddenly it was just you and Steve, staring at each other through the ash floating through the air.

“See you on the other side,” Steve smirked at you, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. Though you knew your tribulations were far from over, at least you were getting the hell out of this place, finally home free.

“On the other side,” you agreed. Steve helped to hoist you up, and you climbed towards the familiar. You passed the center point of the rope, bracing for contact with the mattress but it never came.

Instead everything went dark as you continued falling into oblivion.

***

a/n: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you did and you wanted to reblog and comment I’d be so so grateful (it really makes my day to see what you guys think of the story). Since I’m getting close to the end of the content we have, I probably will open requests soon. These can be related to Adventures in Babysitting if you’d like (like I’d love to write about some mundane shit for the in between moments of conflict in Hawkins) or they could be completely separate! Also, writing the bike flashback was my favorite part of this chapter :)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @kahhori @palachannie @keeryverse @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose @frtfvthg @criesinlies @cycat4077 @kachelleee @killerqueenfan @newyorkangelbaby @spaghetittied @anxfl @huffledor-able541