#A LOT is going to be coming up in the next few chapters

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, anxious Dean, anxious Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2683

MDNI 18+

A/N: another slightly shorter chapter (sorry). Idk why but I rewrote this chapter so many times to try and get it right, so fingers crossed it’s not awful. But the encounter finally happens! Not long now until we get to see Dean doing dad things, and tbh, I’m living for it. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you all

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Spilling the truth took a lot less time than I'd anticipated, so after a quick update texted to Kat and the much needed coffees, Dean and I decided to head over to the track. Dean himself was feeling every emotion under the sun. He expressed a constant string of heartfelt apologies for nearly the whole walk from Jolenes’ Café back to where we'd parked, despite me constantly reminding him that he has nothing to apologise for. He's here now, and that's what matters. The phrases ‘I have a son,’ and ‘I’m a dad’ seemed to intertwine with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ like a mantra, to the point where I had to stop him in his tracks and refocus his attention before his head got lost in the clouds.

“I get it, Dean. This is so much to absorb right now, and I can't imagine what is going on in that crazy brain of yours. You don't have to come with me right now, we can meet tomorrow if you want-”

“No, absolutely not. I've been absent for too long and I'll be damned if I waste another minute,” he nervously wiped his hands over his face as we approached my truck. I couldn't help but smile. “I mean, what if he doesn't like me?”

I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping my mouth, earning a raised eyebrow from the man who was working himself into an anxious sweat.

“Dean, trust me, he's going to want to be your best friend. Especially when he knows that’s your car,” I nodded my head to the impala a few spaces away, recalling Levi's excitement when he saw it in town yesterday.

“Really?”

“Really. Plus…” I hesitated, unsure what emotion my next statement was going to stir within Dean, “he's been bullied for not having a dad around, and I think he'll be grateful for that to stop.”

Deans’ brows furrowed as he leant on the side of my truck, dropping his head and muttering a few curses.

“He's been bullied because I've not been there?” He looked up with a pained pinch in his brow. I sighed.

“Yes but trust me, your boy gives as good as he gets,” I smiled a little, bringing Dean some reassurance. I could tell the words ‘your boy’ had an effect on him. “Look,” I reached out to rub his shoulder affectionately, to which he responded with a warm hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “We need to get going to pick him up. Why don't you come in my truck with me?” He paused for a moment, thinking, gathering his thoughts before standing up straight and nodding. “Great,” I grinned at him, a few nervous butterflies fluttering in my own stomach now. I reached for his hand again, giving it another squeeze, “let's get going then.”

Dean had insisted on driving, mainly for his own sanity and I’d happily obliged, remembering what a terrible passenger he was. After a couple of painstaking minutes of him readjusting my seat, we pulled away and headed down to the track. 

The drive was about twenty minutes, and most of that was spent in a comfortable conversation about Levi. Dean wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. His hobbies, his favourite movie, his favourite cereal, his least favourite cereal, his grades, his favourite subject… the list went on. Before we knew it, we were turning down a dirt road and pulling into a large gravel car park. As we pulled up and hopped out, the buzz of dirt bikes and loud chatter filled the air, along with the intense smell of petrol. Dean walked around to my side, looking around and taking it all in.

“Levi does this? He can ride a dirt bike?” he asked, an impressed tone to his voice. Dean had forgone the leather jacket and as I glanced at him, I couldn't help but trail my gaze over his biceps and the way the grey fabric of his t-shirt stretched around the large muscles. I looked away quickly before he caught me. Now was not the time to let my eyes or thoughts wander.

“Yeah, he's really into it, and he's good too; he has a few trophies at home. To be honest, he loves anything with wheels and an engine,” I grinned, meeting Deans’ eyes with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Really?”

“You know, he's a lot like you - even though you've never met. It's kinda crazy,” I started heading down to the gathering point, knowing that Levi would be coming off the track soon. Dean was hot on my heels. “He even looks like you.” 

“Poor kid.”

I smacked him on the arm playfully as Dean chuckled.

“You're handsome and you know it, so shut your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Just as we were approaching the gathering point I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking through the crowd I saw Kat trotting up to us in her poorly chosen footwear, Toby nowhere in sight. She pulled me into a hug with a smirk already growing on her lips, and as she pulled back she turned to study the tall man at my side.

“Hmm… you are even finer than your photograph.”

“Kat!”

She ignored me.

“I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I feel like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. You know, since our son's are besties,” she stuck out her hand and grasped Deans, giving it a firm shake and dropping it before he'd even uttered a word. She turned back to me, her smirk still on her lips.

“Since Levi is coming home with you today - much to Toby's disappointment - how would you feel about him sleeping over tomorrow?”

“Yeah totally, he'd love that,” I grinned at her, forever grateful.

“Great! I'll pick him up tomorrow,” she beamed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before turning on her heels and heading back into the crowd of parents. We'd normally wait for the boys to emerge together, but I know her, and she didn't want to step on Deans’ toes. This was a big deal, and in her eyes, she was the outsider here.

“What was that?” Dean looked at me, slightly stunned with a quizzical brow.

“That,” I gestured to Kat's disappearing figure, “is Kat. She's my best friend, and to be honest I don't think I'd have made it this far without her.”

“Kat. Got it,” he seemed to make a mental note of who she was, catching on quickly that she was an important person in my life. In Levi's life. I grinned at him, perhaps a little nervously before grasping his hand and pulling him with me in the same direction Kat had left.

“Come on, he’ll be out soon, let's wait for him.”

Dean flashed the smallest smile whilst taking a deep breath. He looked down at our hands and I noticed his palms were a little sweaty. He gripped tighter, hanging to me like I was a lifeline as I pulled him through the crowd. His silence spoke volumes of his nerves, so I stopped at the edge of the gaggle of parents, fearing that he would soon find this all too much. 

For the whole five minutes that we waited, Dean didn't let go of me.

It didn't take long for the whirring of tiny engines to draw closer and closer before finally stopping, shortly followed by the chatter of smaller, childlike voices. Kids began to filter through the crowd, and it wasn’t long before a familiar outline pushing a small, black dirt bike headed our way. Suddenly Dean pulled his hand away from mine and raked his fingers frantically through his hair, pacing in a small circle.

“Shit…shit- what do I say to him? How do I talk to him? He's gonna hate me-”

“Hey hey hey, calm down, everything is fine! Trust me, Dean, Levi is not going to hate you,” I reached to rub a hand over the back of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex with every deep breath he took. 

“I've done a lot of terrifying shit in my life but this really takes the cake,” he dragged a large hand over his paleing face.

“He's an eight year old boy, baby. Trust me, you've got this.” 

He sighed before stopping in his tracks, his gaze catching mine with a twitch of his lip.

“It's been a hot minute since you've called me that, sweetheart,” he stepped closer, reaching to touch the small of my back with tender fingertips.

It took a moment for realisation to dawn, and when it did I felt heat bloom across my cheeks. 

“I-I'm sorry- it just slipped out- I didn't mean-”

“(Y/n) it's ok! I don't mind,” he chuckled slightly, his nerves seeming to dissipate. The playful glint had returned to his eye for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with something calmer, more serene. His grin lessened, but the warmth in his features remained. “I don't mind.”

I looked up at him, my heart and stomach feeling warm and light as we seemed to acknowledge our own familiarity between each other. It wasn't just Levi that connected us, and I seemed to forget that Dean and I used to be in a relationship. We were more than just a one night stand - we were intimate on multiple levels. 

“Hey mom!” 

The bubble around Dean and I popped as Levi had crept up on us, crash helmet still equipped and his bike to his side.  I felt Dean tense beside me, the air around him practically sizzling with anticipation.

“Hey there, trouble! You had a good afternoon?” I stepped up to Levi and patted his helmet. He nodded vigorously.

“Great! You can tell me all about it in the car,” I paused and glanced at Dean, frozen in place and not taking his eyes off Levi since he appeared. It took a moment for Levi to realise that Dean was even standing there, his focus still on me and his fun afternoon. After a few breaths, Dean tore his gaze away from his son and he looked over at me, his expression heavy with a whole concoction of emotions. I offered him a small smile before nodding. 

“Hey, Levi,” I crouched down to my sons’  level, “I have a surprise for you. I'm gonna need you to take your helmet off, ok?”

I saw his eyes light up as he nodded vigorously. Helping him to support his bike, he eagerly tore his helmet off, his short brown hair tousling in the process. He grinned at me, his helmet now tucked under his arm as he waited patiently. I heard a sharp inhale hiss through Deans’ teeth from behind me as he laid eyes on his sons’ face for the first time. I smiled at Levi, taking his smaller, dirt covered hand in mine.

“Ok, so… You see this man behind me?” I tilted my head in Deans’ direction, and Levi followed with his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin unfaltering.

“Well,” I drew in a breath, “his name is Dean. And I knew Dean a long time ago,” there was another apprehensive pause as my own pulse quickened. “Sweetheart… Dean… He’s, well… He’s your dad.”

I watched as the grin fell from Levis’ face, his green eyes widening.

“What?” his voice was all but a whisper, his gaze flitting rapidly between me and Dean, who’d now taken a step closer.

“He’s your dad,” I repeated, reaching up to softly comb my fingers through the front of his wild hair. Levis’ bottom lip started to tremble as my words sunk in, the truth of the situation we were in starting to hit home as tears started to well in his eyes.

“You’re serious?” he squeaked with a sniff.

I nodded, the emotions from my son now bleeding into me, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah honey, I’m serious.”

Levis’ helmet hit the dirt with a thud and in that instant he’d thrown himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his mud streaked face into his shirt. His dad didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, wrapping his large arms around Levis’ shoulders and pulling him into the same crushing hug I’d received earlier today.

“Hey kid,” Dean spoke against the top of Levis’ head, his voice rasping as he choked his words out, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.” 

I stood up from where I’d been crouching, now clutching the small helmet that had been flung to the ground. I drew Deans’ attention as I shifted, and I felt like my heart could have exploded in my chest when I saw the glossiness in his eyes. Tears of joy, relief and perhaps even bittersweet regret were on the brink of spilling over, and the soft smile he threw my way said a million ‘thank yous’.  The quiet sounds of Levis’ sniffling were what pulled on my heartstrings the most. The boy who loved nothing more than to race bikes, watch movies and talk about cars had grown up without a dad to share those interests with. He’d watched the other kids around him down at the track, their fathers joining in with the activities. Other kids had their dads to play sports with down at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d had a role model who they could admire, always in the bedroom next to theirs. But not Levi. He’d had me, and I did my best to fill those fatherly shoes, but we both knew it just wasn’t the same. There were times when I think it upset me more than it had upset him, feeling like my child was missing out on something so important. But now… now that Dean was here, for however long he was planning on staying, Levi could finally experience the things he’d dreamt of for so long. I just hoped it would turn out to be everything that he’d ever imagined.

I watched as Levi finally pulled away from his dad, his tears having cleaned tracks through the mud on his face. He sniffed one my time before beaming up at Dean.

“Hey, kid,” Dean smiled softly, ruffling his hair with a hand the same size as his head, “maybe if your moms ok with it, we could hang out a bit. Maybe go and grab some ice-cream? My treat,” Dean shifted that smile to me, and I would’ve had to have had a heart of stone to decline that request.

“Of course,” I smiled back, “ice-cream sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Deans’ grin widened, a refreshed look in his eye as he let go of Levi and stepped towards me, taking the helmet from my hands. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. I took everything to not let my eyes flutter closed, to not get lost in that moment, but the familiar feeling of his lips on my skin and scent washing over awoke the butterflies in my stomach. My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he pulled away, stepping around me. He kicked the bike stand back and wheeled the small vehicle forwards, looking at Levi and urging him to come and push it.

“Come on kid, why don’t you tell me all about this beast on our way back to the truck,” he smiled to his son who beamed back, leaping over to him. Dean chuckled slightly as the smaller version of himself burst into conversation about top speeds and engine strokes, and the wide look in Deans’ eyes as he glanced up at me, finally understanding what I’d meant when I’d said they were so alike. And as Levi chatted animatedly to his dad as we walked, my heart swelled as I watched them.

I couldn’t seem to look away as I witnessed Dean gaze down at his son, looking like the proudest father in the world.

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back. 

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone. 

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression. 

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind. 

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore. 

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe. 

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret. 

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast. 

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later. 

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in. 

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage. 

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly. 

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss. 

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you. 

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic. 

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you. 

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst. 

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers. 

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing. 

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin. 

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule. 

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'. 

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch. 

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself. 

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms. 

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point. 

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them. 

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town. 

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on. 

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you. 

You couldn't sleep. 

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself. 

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night. 

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company. 

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away. 

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway. 

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor. 

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors. 

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest. 

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad. 

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down. 

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted. 

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least. 

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. 

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out. 

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did. 

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks. 

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again. 

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk. 

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take my hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

[amalgamateofficial]

A Quick(?) Update

Hey, everyone. I never know what to say, and then because of that, day after day passes in silence. I guess I just want to say that yes, I’m still working on chapter 21 of Amalgamate, and also that I’m sorry for the absolutely ridiculous amount of time that’s passed between chapters. I know I’ve been “absent” a lot online, too. Rarely commenting on fics, taking days to respond to DMs, hardly livestreaming…

I’m sure it’s a no-brainer that the kind of person who writes a story like Amalgamate isn’t exactly a “well” person. Those who follow me on social media for my cosplay and art content see such a small, curated snapshot of reality. The smile doesn’t exist until I hit record, and it ends when the video stops. So every day, my followers see videos of me at my “best,” but I film as much as possible on a single day because the next “good” day could be weeks away. Sometimes I worry that the next good day isn’t going to come at all.

The most frustrating thing about it is that I’m well aware of the cycle. Every year, starting in August, the darkness starts to creep in. By September, it takes hold. By the end of October, it’s inescapable. November passes, then December. Last year, December almost ended in the worst way possible, but as cheesy as it sounds, Amalgamate convinced me to turn it around. I thought, “What kind of example am I setting here? How can I let people down like this?” 

So this year, I tried to prepare for the inevitable… and failed. I thought if I could post chapter 21 before the end of August, I could just curl up alone and wait for 2024 to be over. But then everything went to hell and I missed my goal, and when the darkness started to creep in at the edges, I tried to make another goal, and then another, but every single time, I was dragged right back down.

Then a mini cycle started to form within the larger cycle. Every day that goes by in which I don’t post chapter 21, I think the chapter needs to be even better to make up for how long I’ve kept everyone waiting. Then the pressure overwhelms me, and the terrible thoughts creep in, and then the guilt sets in, and then I’m curled up in the corner again with nothing accomplished. DMs are left to fester. Fics I want to read collect dust. I drift away, and I let everyone else drift away, and I sit and stare and wish things could be different. 

I suppose it’s not all doom and gloom though. I tried really hard to work on myself this past month, and I was actually successful in a few ways. I tried to clean myself up, and in some ways, I did a lot better than expected. I’m hoping that means I can turn things around again. I want to finish chapter 21, catch up on all the fics I want to read, start drawing regularly, and be an active participant online instead of just tossing out content in a desperate attempt to keep up appearances.

But it’s such an uphill battle. I feel worse now than I did last year, so I’m trying really hard to cling to that self-awareness and prevent things from going the way they did in 2023. But I know that’s not realistic. Everything in life is worse than before, and I see no evidence that it will improve anytime soon. So that means it’s on me to simply power through it and do the best I can.

So, for the sake of my own sanity, chapter 21 will get finished as soon as possible. I don’t know how much longer I can survive with this awful feeling, and that feeling will go away once the next chapter’s posted. In the meantime, I’ll try not to miss the mark with all my other goals. No matter what, I’m going to finish my Halloween cosplay special for 2024. Last year, I had some funds to help me. This year I don’t because I dropped out of most of my conventions, made a lot less art, and overall just kinda gave up on everything. 

But it’s not too late. I’ll dive into as many dumpsters as I have to in order to make a Halloween cosplay that will hopefully be as good as Mangle. This year, I’m gonna be cosplaying Spamton NEO – which is probably cheating since I’m already a failed content creator past their prime who has no choice but to wear clown makeup and wave their arms at anyone who happens to scroll by.

I never know what to say, so I guess all I can really say is that I’m trying my absolute best. I know my best is often really disappointing, but it really is the best I can manage sometimes. Even when I’m distant, just know that it doesn’t mean I love you all less, or appreciate you all less, or feel any less gratitude. It just means I’m in the dark, and I’m trying to crawl my way back. Which is very tiring. And overwhelming. But I never stop trying. In part because you all mean so much to me. Last year would’ve ended differently if that wasn’t the case.

Anyway, I don’t know what else to say other than thank you all for your continued support. I’ll try to make it all up to you and then some. Maybe this year I can end things on a high note for once. I’ll certainly give it my best shot.

Uuuh… I guess if you do want to see me at my best, though, you can always follow me on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. That’s the best version of me in between Amalgamate chapters, and I recently shared a ton of Danganronpa cosplay videos because of Dragon Con. I have a Patreon now too, and even though it’s a ghost town, I’m still posting as much content there as possible. I’ll keep dancing until the stage lights are forcibly shut down. I think that's the best way to guarantee that I can turn this ship around.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 7 - Kamikaze love

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.1k words. A nice easy heat that's what everyone could use, no interruptions, just a few days of mindless sex and some time to relax.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (heat, knotting, claiming), gaslighting, brief mentions of needles, hurt/comfort, angst, sex, PiV sex, fingering, knotting, brief mentions of blood, alcohol.

AN: Heat time baby, the best part of every a/b/o fic amiright. I honestly don't know who had more fun with this chapter me writing it or @rememberwren editing it. XD

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake in John’s bed with a pit in your stomach. You’re hungry but your head feels fuzzy, and you’re not quite aware. You need to see Dr. Miller to get your last shot, because with the way you feel, you’re pretty sure your heat will be tomorrow. John is not in the room but you can smell him, the scent goes straight to your head making your body tingle as you pull yourself out of the bed. 

You go to your room changing into something comfy and heading to the lab. No one is around. You’re not sure what time it is. You're cold, colder than normal when you step out into the fresh air. Shivers run up and down your body and you pull your arms around your chest. When you get to the lab the place is empty. Dr. Piper's office door is open and you go over to look. She’s not in there. You turn to head up the stairs when the door opens behind you. 

“Hey,” Dr. Miller says. You turn to see him with a coffee in his hands. His nostrils flare, you must still smell of sex. All you can smell in the air is alpha. It makes your head spin and you bump into a table. Your body is moving towards him without you thinking. You miss John, you need him right now. 

“I think my heat might start tomorrow,” you say as he walks past you. The smell of his alpha makes your mouth water as an ache forms in your stomach.

“Let’s get this done quickly then,” he says, and you follow him over to a desk. 

“Where is everyone?” you ask as you take your jacket off. 

“Did you not hear? General Shepherd is making a decision on what’s going to happen, with you, the base, 141, everything. He fired almost all the staff. It’s just a skeleton crew and scientists,” he explains as you roll your sleeve up. Why does this feel like it’s your fault? 

“What do you think he’s going to say?” 

“I heard some things from the other scientists.” His hand is cold on your skin. 

“What did you hear?” you ask, watching as he prepares the needle. 

“Well there are a lot of people here who still support Professor Hale’s vision. Not everyone wants a cure,” he says, and you nod. You’re not even sure if you want a cure, but you’ll go wherever your pack goes. 

“He did love you, you know,” Dr. Miller says pulling your sleeve down. You look at him, confused. You can’t think straight right now. His alpha is too strong in the air and it’s making you woozy. 

“Professor Hale,” he says. 

“He had a funny way of showing it,” you scoff.

“Well, some would call it tough love. You weren't exactly the most well behaved omega.” He smiles, rolling away on his stool. “Besides, people do horrible things for the people they love. Look at your pack, they’ll kill for you if they had to. They have killed for you.” You look at him, now you’re even more confused. Who have they killed for you?

“Do you think I should go back to the Professor? I know it would make their lives easier,” you say, a wave of guilt coming over you. You don’t want to be a burden to them. Dr. Miller is right, you’re not the best omega, you definitely pushed the Professor’s buttons from time to time. You stand up off the stool, but your legs feel like jelly and you have to brace yourself on the table. 

“I think you should do what's best for your pack. Sometimes that means making tough choices, choices we don’t like.” 

You nod, he smiles at you before turning back to his laptop.

“What do I do now?” you ask.

“I’ll see you again after your heat.” He smiles. You nod. Your head is pounding now. The shiver running up and down your body feels electric, and you can smell honey in the air.

“Do you think the hormone blocker will work?” you ask.

“We’ll see.” He nods and you sigh, leaving the building. The cool air makes your already foggy head spin more. You can still smell his alpha. You’re stumbling down the path thinking back to what he said. The Professor loved you? He had a funny way of showing it.

You stop in your tracks half way back to the barracks. There are dark clouds moving in, and it’s probably going to rain again. You can’t go back to the barracks. You need to think; you need a clear mind. 

You can’t do that when all you can smell in the building is alpha. Just thinking about John and the time you spent together yesterday has your body throbbing. You head in a different direction, and before you know where you’re really going you’ve found yourself in the abandoned building you were doing training in a few days ago. You don’t even remember walking here. Your head is stuffy, making you dizzy as you walk through back into the upstairs room with the wooden desk. 

You don’t know how many hours have passed but the sky looks different, and your body is stiff as you’re leaning against the desk. Your limbs feel heavy, and the pit in your stomach has turned into a burn. You shiver as a breeze blows through the open window, it stings your cheeks.

You bring your hand up to feel, and they’re wet. You've been crying. You can’t remember what happened. You were with the doctor, then you ended up here. You focus on remembering what you talked to him about, but your mind is drawing a blank, and all you feel is sadness and guilt.

The Professor. He wants you back, and there's a man here to take you. Dr. Miller was right, people do stupid things for the people they love. Love? Do you love John, or is it just because you’re a pack? Thinking about John makes the ache burn inside you deeper than anything you’ve felt before.

You can’t think straight remembering his scent, leather, the ground after rain. You look out the window watching the sky and you can hear the rain starting to fall and the distant rumble of thunder. You need more time to think. You lean back on the desk, closing your eyes. 

“Found her.” The smell of alpha hits your nose hard and fast. You’re shivering as you see Simon walk into your view. You look at him confused and dizzy as you try to focus on him. He calls your name, bending down in front of you. Your body is stiff, legs numb. His hand shakes your shoulder. You don’t know what to say. There’s throbbing deep in your core as his scent overwhelms you, all you can smell is alpha. 

“Alpha,” you whine reaching out for him, his eyes twinkling in the low light. The sky is full of shades of pink and orange. You project your scent out but all you can smell is honey, you can taste it in the air.

His eyes go wide and he stands back up as another set of footsteps come into the room. You smell beta now, heavy, cutting through your scent. It’s Johnny who kneels down in front of you. 

“Hey lass, gave us a right scare you did.” He smiles, reaching out and hooking his arm around you, pulling you to your feet. Your legs feel like jelly and as soon as you go to take a step you stumble. Johnny’s arm stays tight around you though, keeping you steady as you slowly walk out the building. 

“Is the General going to take me away?” you ask, your throat dry. 

“Never, is that what you’ve been worried about? Is that why you hid?” he asks. You shake your head. You watch as Simon, who had been walking in front of you, stops at the entrance to the barracks. 

“I’ll go, tell Price I'll talk to him later.” Johnny nods at him then helps you up the steps into the building. As soon as you get in you’re hit with what feels like a million senses at once. The building is warm and your cold body almost immediately starts to shiver. You can smell worry in the air and alpha. It’s stronger than Simon, and it immediately has your head pounding. 

Then there are the voices. Dr. Piper and John get up off the table coming over to you, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. Between the throbbing headache and the shakes you’re struggling to focus. Dr. Piper's cold hands come to your face, and the shock causes you to take in a deep breath clearing your head. 

“You’re burning up hun, how are you feeling?” she asks. You don’t know what to say. Your eyes move over to John, he's standing behind her with his arms crossed. 

“Alpha,” you call out to him reaching for him, your body moving before you realise it. Dr. Piper moves out the way as your hand stretches out, and he takes a step forward and Johnny transfers you into his arms. 

“Si said he’ll catch up with you later,” Johnny says. You close your eyes, letting John’s scent relax you. 

“She needs to take a shower, it’ll bring her fever down,” Dr. Piper says. You project your scent into the air, honey and strawberries. It makes you smile. 

“Is it her heat?” John asks, swallowing hard.

“The early stages, yes, but she’s got herself worked up for some reason. It’s important she stays calm and we get this fever under control. Stay with her, the last thing we need is her running off again. I will talk to Lieutenant Riley,” you hear Dr. Piper say as John peel's you off his chest. 

“Thank you,” John says, turning towards the bathroom. You hear Johnny and Dr. Piper leave. 

“You had us worried, you can’t just wander off like that, what if you got hurt?” he says. 

“I’m sorry,” you reply. You’re just happy to be near him. He sighs, leading you towards the bathroom. You feel like you're floating as you strip your clothes making your way over to the showers. You turn it up hot letting the water soak you.

You can still feel a chill in the air when you feel John step up behind you. His scent fills your nose and it immediately relaxes you as you lean against him. He holds you up as he reaches over, turning the temperature of the shower down. 

“It’s cold,” you protest.

“It’s not cold, you have a fever,” he says, pressing you further into the shower so the water can run over your whole body. 

“What are you worried about?” he asks. You sigh, you can’t remember. 

“Worried about the heat,” you mumble, turning in his arms.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he says as you try to nuzzle your face in his neck, his scent is going straight to your head. It's been so long since you’ve had anything you can call a ‘normal’ heat. Maybe this is normal, you feel like you just want to cling onto John and never let go. His hands run up your arms and he moves you back a little, the water is cold on your burning skin. 

“You’ll be fine, I'll take care of you. We all will.” His hand comes up to your face, his thumb brushes your chin as he pulls your face up to look at him. 

He leans down and kisses you, it's slow and soft and makes your whole body tingle. The ache is burning inside you now, all you can smell in the air is honey. He breaks away, turning you around, forcing you to stay in the shower until you’ve cooled down.

He leaves to bring you clean clothes and pajamas. You’re tired when you leave, following John blindly as you dry yourself and change. He leads you into his room. You don’t need to be told anything, you just climb into bed. He doesn’t even have time to get into bed with you. You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Your body is burning. 

Sweat has made your pajamas and hair stick to you. Each point of contact burns. You grip your top trying to pull it off your chest, anything to give you a break from the overstimulation. John is not in the bed, but you can smell him. You need him. Before you know it you’re kicking the bedding off. Your thighs rub together trying anything to quell the ache throbbing between your legs. 

It doesn’t work though, too much slick, there’s no friction even as you pull your sodden shorts and underwear off. John could be working, it could be hours before he’s back, your top brushes your nipples as you turn in the bed causing you to moan out. You grip it, pulling it off over your head. It takes you more effort than you thought and you have to lay back down panting as you catch your breath. 

When you can move again you roll to the other side of the bed rubbing your legs together. You can smell him on his pillow which just makes the pain worse. You roll again but this time you misjudge the distance and you roll off the bed. Your head slams painfully on the floor. You cry out, trying to prop yourself up.

The room door opens and it makes you jump pulling your body into the fetal position. You can smell the alpha in the air. It must be John in the doorway, but you’re too confused to tell, still trying to comprehend how you ended up on the floor. 

You hear him call Dr. Piper. Definitely John. You relax, going back to prop yourself up so you can make your way over to him. You need him, you need to feel him, you want him inside you. 

“Alpha,” you call as another figure walks into the room. There’s a strong smell of beta now. You look up through your hazy eyes seeing Dr. Piper bend down in front of you. She presses her cold hands on your cheeks. She doesn't say anything, just brushes the hair stuck to your forehead. 

“Present for your alpha,” Dr. Piper says as she stands back up. The words are familiar to your ears. Your body is already moving, pressing your face and chest into the floor. You thrust your hips up, slick dripping down your thighs, you’re desperate to feel his hands on you, desperate for him to be inside you.

“Please alpha,” you whine, projecting your scent into the room. Dr. Piper knows she can’t stick around for too long. As soon as John gives in he’ll become aggressive to anyone who isn’t his pack.  

“Don’t be afraid to hurt her,” she says

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“She won't remember.” 

“I don’t care.”

“She needs you, she’ll do whatever it takes to get you,” Dr. Piper sighs, backing up. 

“I’m not going to hurt her,” John repeats. You don't care about him hurting you or not. You need him.

“Don’t think about it too much, your body knows what to do,” she says, taking a step back to the door. “The betas will be in to check on you both.”

John is almost not listening, watching as you back up towards him. Your scent is thick in the air, sweet, so sweet it has John’s mouth watering. 

“Please alpha,” you call again. You can smell him in the air. You know he’s near, you need the pain to stop, you need his knot. You’re being a good omega waiting for him and presenting yourself. You feel his hand rest on the bottom of your back and it sends shivers up your spine. His hand travels down to squeeze your ass. Yes yes , his warm hand is on you, you back up more for him moaning into the floor. His scent is strong in the air now, alpha on full display. 

“On the bed.” His voice is low, rumbling from the back of his throat. You follow his instructions climbing up on the bed and laying down. You’re rubbing your thighs together trying to get any sort of friction but there’s no release. 

“Alpha,” you whine. “Please.” 

Your scent is strong in the air but so is his, and it fills your nose just making you more desperate. You arch your back calling out for him again. You can see him in your haze, you know he’s there. He’s taking his clothes off pulling his shirt over his head and stepping out his shoes.

Your eyes scan over him, the fuzziness dispersing for a few seconds as you take in his bare skin. You hear his belt drop to the floor. He’s completely naked now. Your mouth fills with saliva and you lick your lips. You want to reach out and feel him but he leans over you, his hands finding your face.

“I’ve got you.” His pupils dilate as one of his hands runs down your body to your clit. It’s almost too much, and you almost cum just from the brief contact. You can only smell him in the air now, it’s overwhelming, making you dizzy as his hand rests on your abdomen.

His lips meet yours. You’re drinking him up, he tastes amazing, his tongue pressing against yours. He pulls away from the kiss, and you moan in protest, your lips tingling from the lack of contact.

You reach out for him and he sits you up climbing into the bed and kneeling down behind you. He scoops his hands under your armpits pulling you up against his chest as he leans back on the headboard. You can feel his cock between your legs, you want to reach down and grab it, squirming in his arms as he rests you down on his knees. 

“Alpha,” you breathe, one of his hands moving down to your clit. His cock twitches, and it makes you whimper. You want it, to feel it, you want it to be inside of you. His breath is hot in your ear as he shushes you.

You tip your head back moaning as he coats his fingers in your slick. He presses his fingers into you and you clench around him, his fingers feel good but his cock would be better. You need his knot, you need him to fill you up.

“Alpha, I need you,” you say, but it just makes him push his fingers into you deeper, his tongue running along your neck. 

“What do you need?” he growls. His alpha is on full display, you let it fill your nose, making your mouth water. 

“Need your knot.” His fingers leave you and you gasp as he presses them onto your clit. You moan, arms reaching out to grip the bedding. You’re so sensitive it only takes a few seconds before you’re cumming on his hand. More slick gushes out as you feel his cock twitch as he moves, covering his fingers in your slick. 

The wet sounds of him pumping his cock isn’t helping quell the ache. You lean forward so he can line himself up with your entrance easier. You bend right over, pressing your hands down on the bed. One of his hands stays around your waist holding you in position as he slowly presses into you. The relief is instantaneous, and you let out a long moan as stars appear in your vision.

You’re almost not paying attention to anything but the satisfaction of having your alpha filling you up. You clench around him, his hands gripping around your stomach pulling you back against him. You didn't think he could go deeper but he does as he grips you tighter to his body. He moves you like you weigh nothing as you moan for him, letting your scent fill the air. 

“Such a good omega,” he breathes, his lips running over your neck. It makes you shiver, and the thought of him claiming you makes you clench around him again. He moans, his breath hot on your neck as he bucks his hips into you. 

“Alpha—” You’re going to cum, it’s too much. You don’t have time to warn him as you cum around him, slick gushing out as he throbs inside you. 

“Christ, love,” he says through gritted teeth. The smell of leather is filling the air now, and it makes you dizzy as you come down from the orgasm. A second later you’re desperate again. There’s no relief, you need his knot, it's the only thing that will make the pain stop. 

“Need your knot alpha,” you beg. You don’t wait for him, fucking yourself on his cock as he pants behind you. His hands move up from your hips to your breasts pinching your nipples.

“Yes, yes,” whatever you need to say to get his knot. After a few more seconds his hands grip your hips again as he takes over for you pulling you up and down on him. His nose is nuzzled into your neck. You know he’s going to claim you, his tongue running over your scent gland as he breathes you in.

He moans, pressing little kisses on your neck as you bounce on him. You’re not thinking, you can’t. Knot, knot, it’s all you want. Be a good omega and let him take you, when you’ve done a good enough job you’ll get his knot. Everything feels too good and not enough at the same time. 

“You going to be a good omega and let me claim you? Make you mine?” His voice is rumbling, feral in your ear. You’ve never heard him like this before, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck as you breathe him in, getting drunk off his scent. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. Your nails dig into your thighs.

“Yes alpha, I want to be your omega.” The response is almost automatic. He hums into your neck, his cock driving into you faster. He’s close again, you can tell, the pheromones in the air are lulling you out, and you don’t know how much more you can take before you’re not aware anymore. Then it happens. His tongue traces up to your scent gland, and you tip your head forward as his teeth sink into you. You yelp in pain. Your whole body tingles, and then you black out. 

You come to a few seconds later, pain throbbing at the base of your skull. 

“You okay?” he asks, supporting your body against his chest. You nod, your mouth feeling suddenly dry. Your adrenaline is spiked, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You relax back into his arms. You can’t tell if you feel different or not. You can feel the blood trickling down your back. The wound will already be healing and closing up. 

You want to touch it, to feel the indents his teeth will have created. You don’t get a chance. He maneuvers your body down onto the bed. You feel empty, the adrenaline wearing off and the ache coming back. Everything will go hazy soon, so you enjoy the feeling of being aware of what’s going on around you as John pulls you into his arms. 

After a few minutes things are starting to get hazy again. The burning is back, the ache deep in your core. You need him, need his knot. You’re backing up against him, and you feel his hard cock pressing against you. His hand comes down, his fingers running over your entrance. You gasp as he pushes two fingers in, and you tighten round them, letting him press against your g-spot. It’s not enough though.

“You feel so good, such a good omega. Perfect omega,” he says into your ear. It makes a warmth bubble up inside you. You moan at the praise, his fingers working faster. Before you know it you’re cumming around him. You pant as he sucks on your neck, his tongue brushing past your mark. It sends tingles all down your spine. You’re his omega now, and he’s your alpha. His scent is strong, his fingers still working inside you. He’s not going to stop until you’re cumming again and you don’t care. You’re being a good omega for him, and then he will give you his knot. 

“Please—” you beg. He hums, taking his fingers out and pressing them on your clit. You moan. Your body shakes as he rubs your swollen sensitive bud until you’re cumming again on his hand. Your body shakes as he works you through the orgasm. The smell of leather hits your nose as you push up against him. This time he gives you what you want, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Please, John. I need you.” You are begging again, but you don’t really care. You’re desperate for him. His hands keep your hips in place as he pushes inside of you. You feel so full clenching around him as he drives into you. 

“Such a good omega, my omega,” he growls into your ear. Warmth blooms inside you, you are his omega. 

“Your omega,” you purr as his fingers dig into your hips. The repetitive movements of John bucking his hips into you are making your head spin. You’re getting close and this time you need his knot. 

“I need your knot alpha,” you beg. 

“You can have my knot, you’ve been such a good omega,” his voice is grumbling as he nips at your neck. It sends shivers down your spine as his tongue traces your mark. You relax for him, letting him move you however he wants to. You lay there as he wraps his arms around you pressing you against him.

You bring your legs up which makes him feel tighter inside you. His thrusts become longer and deeper, hitting a new spot inside that you’ve never felt before. When you cum around him you see fucking stars he moans and he kisses your neck, pulling your hips down as he cums. He’s throbbing inside you as fills you up. 

“Such a good girl, good omega,” he pants into your neck. He kisses the mark he left. You finally feel satisfied, his knot inside you. You relax up against him as he reaches down pulling the duvet over you. You hum. You want to thank him but you don’t have the energy. You close your eyes letting out a sigh as his arms wrap around you. It won’t be long before you’re asleep.  

It’s 12 hours since your heat has started, and Kyle stands outside John’s room. He knows he has to be careful, he needs to get at least some water into John without startling you, and he needs to check your mark— if John has claimed you. Dr. Montgomery did say it could happen on the second day. The noises from the room had settled down a few hours ago, and it seemed like a better time than any to check. He opens the door slowly. Your scent is heavy in the air. The whole building smells of honey, sweet strawberries and leather. 

He walks in as quietly as he can. You and John are both asleep. You look so peaceful, John’s arms wrapped around you, your back pressed against his chest, the duvet pulled over you both. Kyle can’t tell if you’re knotted but he assumes you are.

He walks over to the pack of water bottles on the floor and takes one out before going over to John and gently shaking him awake. John opens his eyes, squinting for a few seconds before propping himself up in the bed. You moan as he moves, your scent filling Kyle's nose. John’s arm squeezes you closer. Kyle hands him a water bottle and he takes his arm off you to open it, gulping it down. 

“How do you feel?” Kyle asks. 

“Fine, how’s things out there?” he asks. 

“Nothing to report, Johnny and Simon have been keeping themselves busy.”  

“What about Shepherd?” he asks, handing the empty bottle back to Kyle.

“He went to Seattle a few hours ago, said he would be back after her heat.” 

John sighs. Kyle waits for a few seconds, handing John a protein bar. He doesn't need to worry about getting food into you for the first few days, but Johnny will need to get you to drink later. You shuffle in the bed backing up to John who moans with half the bar in his mouth. His eyes go glossy, Kyle doesn’t have long before John will be out of it again. 

“Did you claim her?” he asks. John nods. His hand comes up to the back of your neck and you stur, protesting as John’s fingers touch your neck. He shushes you gently pulling your hair out the way. Kyle wasn’t sure what he was expecting but when he looks all he can see is the indents of teeth in your skin. It’s not red or swollen which is what Dr. Montgomery told him to look out for. John puts your hair back down as you whine.

Kyle needs to leave. He's done his job and he can smell John’s scent getting stronger. John’s shushing you as Kyle leaves, carefully shutting the door as quiet as he can. He’ll update Dr. Montgomery then get some rest. It’ll probably be a few hours before you’ll be active again. 

It’s another late night. The rain is heavy and storms have been rolling in. The forecast is looking bleak for the next few days which hasn’t helped with Simon's mood. He hasn’t been able to get out much. Price didn’t leave him much work to do and with Shepherd leaving, he doesn't have any responsibilities. Johnny meets up with him around midday and updates him with how things are going. Then they either hit the gym or the range for a couple of hours. 

He can’t tell if the hormone blocker is working, but it doesn’t help that Johnny always smells of you. Strawberries and honey. It gets his heart racing. Johnny doesn’t seem to mind when the sparring session or the range training is cut short by Simon dragging Johnny into whatever room he can find. Bending him over whatever surface he sees, fucking him while he gets drunk on your lingering scent. You’re plaguing his mind.

He misses you more than he thought he would. Maybe it’s because you’re in heat and he swears he can smell you and John from his room on the other side of the base. It’s always the jealousy that gets him, knowing John claimed you and he never had a chance.

The good thing about the sleepless nights is that he knows he can always find Dr. Montgomery working late. She’s always in the lab which is the closest he will get to the barracks. Even then if he stands in the right spot he can smell you. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him or the fact that his senses seem hypertuned to pick you up, but it’s all he gets. 

Tonight is no different, sitting with Dr. Montgomery as she explains something about genetics. He likes listening to her talk, it’s a good distraction, and it makes him feel closer to you in a strange way. He knows she has to keep her distance too. She’s not part of their pack. If John senses her, he’ll get defensive, and he could end up hurting himself or you.

“How are you holding up?” she asks when she’s finished with her explanation. 

“Fine,” he lies. She hums. Maybe she can tell, but he doesn’t care and she never presses him about it. 

“The first few days are the worst, things will calm down tomorrow,” she says, sighing. It’s been two days already, a long 48 hours.  

“Getting much rest? You seem tired,” she states. 

“Plenty.” 

“Want to talk about it?” she asks. He looks at her. Her expression is soft, her green eyes look darker in the low light. She smiles at him. 

“We found Hale,” he says, looking away. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

“When? Ho—Where?” she asks, eyes wide with shock. Simon can smell fear in the air. 

“A few days ago. He’s in Seattle,” he says. 

“Seattle, that’s—he’s just over an hour away.” She’s stood up now running her hand through her hair. Simon turns to look at her. 

“Does she know?” 

“No, Price thought it was best to wait until after her heat.” 

She sighs sitting back down. 

“She’s safe here,” Simon says. 

“Is that where General Shepherd is? With Hale?” 

“We think so.”

“He could bring him here,” Dr. Montgomery says. There’s a shake in her voice. 

“It’s a possibility.” He shrugs. Dr. Montgomery scoffs. 

“You’re not very good at putting people at ease,”  she says, shaking her head. Simon watches her click through on the computer. 

“ What the hell? ” she mutters. 

“What?” He looks over at the screen. 

“Someone's scrubbed all my files.” She presses something and an error comes up. “What does that mean?” 

“You’re not high enough security level,” Simon says, scooting closer to her. “Let me.” He pulls the keyboard over to him entering his log in, but the same error pops up.

“That’s almost all the research you guys got from the bunker. Not to mention all the work we’ve been doing over the past few weeks,” she says, clicking again only for the same error. He pulls the keyboard to him again. 

“Don’t tell Price I know this.” He tries logging in with Price’s login. This time a new error pops up.

“Fuckin’ Shepherd.” 

“What does that mean?” she asks, looking at it.

“It means we need Shepherd’s permission to see it.” He leans back on the stool. 

“How the hell are we supposed to continue with research?” she asks, sounding frustrated. 

“Don’t you have a local copy?” 

“This is the local copy. Everything is saved into this weird cloud system. It sucks.” She slaps her hand on the desk. “What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know,” he replies, watching her click away from the error. She closes the tab down. 

“Let me check what paperwork we have, at least then we can work on something.” She gets up heading to her office. Simon watches then looks back over at the computer. He logs Price out as Laswell walks into the building. 

“I was looking for you on the other side of the base. Kyle said you might be here.” She walks over to him. Dr. Montgomery walks back out of her office with a folder in her hands.

“We need to talk, there’s been a development.” Simon can tell she wants to talk alone. He looks over at Dr. Montgomery as she walks round to her spot next to him. 

“What is it?” he asks, not moving. 

“General Shepherd's new security detail for Professor Hale.” She hands him a piece of paper. It’s an email. He reads it and a pit forms in his stomach.

“Shadow Company, Graves will get his grubby hands everywhere.” He sighs standing up and handing her the paper back. “When was this sent?” 

“Couple of hours ago,” Laswell says.

“What’s Shadow Company?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He turns to look at her, thinking for a second if he should tell her or not.

“Private militia group,” he says, turning back to Laswell.

“Wait, so that means Hale's going to have his own personal army?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He doesn’t answer. This is down to him to sort out. 

“Get Gaz and Soap,” he says to Laswell. She nods leaving the room.

“Still think she's safe?” she asks. He turns to look at her, her hands on her hips. He can read the ‘I told you so’ on her face. No, she’s not safe, not any more . 

“She’s safe,” he says. She has to be.  

Professor Hale pours out two glasses of whisky as he waits for the inevitable knock on his door. Keeping on General Shepherd's good side is the most important thing right now, if he wants any chance of getting into the base.

He brings the glass up to his nose smelling the woody tones letting the strong smell of alcohol calm him. Even though he's expecting it, the knock at the door still makes him jump. He’s been on edge since reluctantly agreeing to work with the government. He still fears they will charge in and put a stop to everything. 

“Come in,” he calls. For now he has to trust them. General Shepherd walks in with another man following behind him. They could be the polar opposite of each other, one is old and fat, the other looks fit and young. 

“I’m so glad you agreed to meet with me. I didn’t know you were bringing a guest,” he says, offering him the glass. He accepts and Hale motions them both to sit down on the couch.

“This is Commander Phillip Graves. I spoke to you about him on the phone. Hopefully he can help you with your security problem,” Shepherd says, Hale reaches out to shake his hand. 

“Of course, I didn’t think the DOD would be so interested in the project.” Hale smiles, pouring another glass.  

“We’re not with the DOD. Shadow Company operates as a private militia,” Phillip explains. This is exactly what he needs. A private militia means they’re bought, not sworn, easier to get them to do what he wants. He smiles at Shepherd raising his glass and taking a sip. Shepherd follows him, as Phillip refuses the drink. 

“What is the plan then?” Hale asks. 

“The CIA are trying to keep knowledge of this project classified. The less people involved the better. I have worked with 141 in the past. I will be able to keep them out of your way while you continue your work. Our main goal is still to get you on the base. The base has been cleared, stripped to only essential personnel. Unfortunately the DOD still have not made a decision on whether or not they want to staff the base with active duty personnel,” Shepherd explains. 

“We will be able to provide you with security where you need it as well as being able to accompany you to the base when the time comes,” Phillip explains.

“I am very grateful for that. How do you plan on handling 141?” he asks.

“We’ve crossed paths before, they won’t be a problem,” Phillip says. 

“What other news is there from the base? How is the omega?” Hale asks. He needs to know. There is a burning inside him. He needs to know how his omega is. 

“She is in heat, from what I understand Captain Price is dealing with that.” Shepherd finishes his drink. Hale can tell he’s awkward about it. He sometimes forgets most people have never been exposed to this world, to his life's work. 

“Is he going to claim her?” Hale presses. 

“I believe that's the plan.” Shepherd puts his glass down on the coffee table. Anger rises in him and he drinks the rest of the whisky enjoying the way it burns his throat. He was going to claim you. You were supposed to be his omega. The thought of someone else's mark on your neck makes him infuriated.

He grips the glass harder trying to ignore the urge to snap, to give the order now to have Shepherd and Graves rush to the base to take you by force. He calms himself. He can’t go after you alone, not while you’re surrounded by special forces. He has to be smart, play the long game. 

“What about the research for a cure?” 

“Dr. Montgomery is very adamant on the fact she will be able to find one. We seized her work pending approval from the DOD and whichever medical board it’s being sent to,” Shepherd explains. Good, all the time he can get the better. “Her staff will be given the option to return to work for you as well as full immunity for past transgressions.” Maybe the only good thing that came out of his lab being destroyed is the fact it hid a lot of the things they had done. Definitely made it easier convincing the government to fund his research when the proof of ethics violations had been destroyed. 

“Hopefully we will be able to get things moving within the next few days. Until then I am sure you and Commander Graves will have plenty of time to talk,” Shepherd says, getting up as Graves follows him. Hale smiles quickly walking round them.

“I’m sure we will, I have plenty of time to discuss things tomorrow,” Hale says, shaking both their hands.

“Of course. We’ll be in touch and if there is anything you need let us know,” Shepherd says.

“Thank you,” Hale responds, following him to the door. “I’ll keep that in mind, General.” The door closes and he waits to hear Shepherd step away before locking the door. He smiles, walking over to his desk picking up the whisky and a clean glass on the way. He sits down looking across the office, pouring another glass.

He’s getting a private military company. He types the name into the search engine not expecting anything to come up but there it is. Shadow Company, Commander Phillip Graves. Hale is reading the site when his phone rings. He sees the name picking it up. 

“How was the meeting with General Shepherd, do you think he can help?” Ashford, his assistant, asks. There’s no time for pleasantries, they won’t have long to talk. 

“I think so, we might be able to move quicker than expected,” Hale says, taking a sip of his drink. “How are things on your end?” 

“Fine, Dr Montgomery is freaking out about her work being seized. The omega is in heat, Captain Price claimed her.” It's the news he didn’t want to hear but he expected it. He finishes the rest of his glass sighing. This time he lets the anger bubble up inside him. 

“Just keep your head down and gather information. Things might be moving quicker than we think.” He swallows the anger, not letting his voice falter. 

“Of course sir,” Ashford says before hanging up the phone. This is his chance. With Shepherd on his side, and now a private militia, getting the omega back might be easier than he thinks.

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[kinardsevan]

any snippets we can gratefully have for aneurysm fic?🥹

I'M SO SORRY!I really haven't been ignoring these messages. But I work full-time and also go to school full-time right now so writing in general is tough (and lbh, empty bones takes a lot of that atm). Plus i got covid (again) last week sooo.... Still, the next chapter IS coming along. We're sitting somewhere in the 7k, and realistically, this one will probably run about 20k again. That all said....

-

Tommy is at his side hours later when Evan surfaces again, wincing as he tilts his head up slightly, only to feel the movement of the tube in his throat. His eyes open slowly, searching the room before falling on Tommy, uncomfortable and confused. Tommy smiles down at him sympathetically. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs softly. Evan squeezes his hand and then pushes it open, painstakingly trying to move his finger on Tommy’s hand. It takes him more than a minute to piece together that Evan is trying to spell. 

“I’m sorry, one more time,” Tommy tells him, squeezing Evan’s index finger before laying his palm open flat. “T. U. B. Oh, the tube?”

Evan squeezes his hand. 

“Vent settings have been lowered, but you’re not ready to come off yet,” Tommy explains. “I think they were talking about before the end of the night.” 

Evan moves his hand back again, tracing over Tommy’s palm once more, but he’s even quicker this time, standing up instead of responding and reaching for the call button. A nurse arrives a few seconds later, quickly seeing that Evan is awake. 

“He’s saying he’s in pain,” Tommy explains when she fully enters the room. She retrieves a chart, and there’s an entire process of showing a scale of pain and Evan blinking when she reaches the threshold of where he’d currently rate it, but a few minutes later, she’s administering another dose of medicine to his line, and his eyes are heavy as he looks back over at Tommy again, trying to reach up toward him even though his hands are still restrained. 

“I’ve got you,” Tommy murmurs softly to him as Evan tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. “Sleep, honey. I’ll still be here later.” 

[jeankluv]

The forgotten boy - Geto Suguru | Chapter 08

words: 3,.1K

summary: He made a deal with the devil, over 1,000 years ago. Just for the sake of his loved ones but the deal came with a condition. Everyone he met from that moment on, would forget about his existence within minutes, and will be like that for the rest of the eternity. Like that Geto Suguru lived for 1,000 years, being forgotten by everyone he met, not being remembered by anyone and being alone.

"You remember me?"

You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”

tags: angst, fluff, fantasy au, different lifetimes, dual pov, use of y/n, fem!character, modern settings but also past settings, eventual smut, destiny, characters death (in the flashbacks), blood [more tags in the future]

notes: wow this week has been, something, as a Gojo stan I’m still grieving like a widow. What’s y’all opinion on the ending? I was not the biggest fan tbh, already talked about it on twt and I feel like a lot of things happened for no reason in these few chapters. But ngl I loved the Sukuna’s conclusion, it was beautiful.

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

jujutsu kaisen materialist | ao3

Suguru had felt something strange when he exchanged glances with that young woman. The young woman had lowered her gaze seconds after exchanging glances with him. Satoru had had to hit him carefully to regain his composure before the emperor and empress. Luckily nothing had happened and they had both been praised and were now enjoying a party that neither of them had ever imagined.

Suguru relocated his armor and picked up the sake cup to take another sip. Satoru had disappeared and he had escaped to one of the inner gardens. The night was cold and the stars shined brightly on the sky, the view was mesmerizing.

It was so quiet out there, only the sound of crickets interrupted the silence of the night. Suguru leaned his body against one of the columns there and relaxed, seeking peace and hoping that the alcohol he had drunk would go down.

“Oh my lord! I’m sorry.” The young lady voice interrupted his thoughts, making him open his eyes. “I will leave you alone.” The young lady was standing a few meters away from him, ready to leave.

Suguru shook his head. “Please don’t worry.” He took a better look at her and realized it was the young lady that was with the empress. “You…you were with the empress right?”

She looked at him and then lowered her gaze. “Yes… I am one her empress court ladies.”

Suguru nodded and tried to think about something to talk with her. “May I ask you…”

“It was scary?” She asked looking at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Fighting those things, was scary?” She asked with curiosity.

“Oh.” He opened his mouth. “Yeah… it was but it was worthy, we were able to safe everyone of the country.” He smiled.

She smiled. “Thank you for your bravery.”

Suguru felt a heat on his cheeks. “Thank you.” He whispered. “What’s you name young lady, if that’s possible to know?”

She smiled and nodded. “Y/n.”

Suguru felt his heart warm and smiled wildly. “I’m Suguru.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Lord Suguru.” You whispered.

“Please, I’m not a lord, not even close to one.” He told you.

“Oh alright.” You shyly said. “Why are you not at the party?”

“It was too much.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What about you my lady?”

“The empress just left to sleep and I usually come here to enjoy the night view of the garden and the sky.” You explained.

“It’s a beautiful view.” He said slightly, looking at you.

“It is…” It was then when Suguru noticed what you had on your hands.

“You paint?” He pointed.

You looked down and tried to hide it from him. “It’s just some silly drawings.”

“Could I take a look?” He tilted his head.

You hesitated feeling how your hands got sweaty and your heart started to pump strongly on your chest. “Alright.”

Suguru took the papers in his hands and looked at them with his eyes wide open. “It’s amazing, you are really good.”

You looked down and tried to hide the smile that was forming on your face. “Thank you young master…” You whispered.

Your heart was beating strongly, the same thing had happened to you when your gaze met his at the banquet, so much so that you had to take it away from his to prevent him from realizing the shame that had taken over you.

You scanned the drawings he had given you and thought about his words. It was the first time that someone had complimented your paintings and admired them as he had done.

It was then when you heard some steps coming towards where the both of you were, so you quickly and with a soft “goodbye” left the place. It would be shameful to see one of the empress company ladies with a soldier.

Suguru heard you and turned to look at you. He tried to ask you to stay, he wanted to know more about you but he stopped himself when he remembered your and his positions.

“You are here.” Satoru said, surrounding his shoulders and letting out a sigh.

“Did you drink?” Suguru asked.

Satoru shook his head. “You know I don’t drink, but I eat too much sweets.” He cried. “By the way I heard you talking with someone.” He moved his eyebrows. “Who was it? A pretty girl?”

“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave.”

Suguru ignored Satoru’s cries and his prayers to tell him who he was with, he preferred to keep that fleeting and brief encounter for himself. A memory only shared between you and the stars of the sky.

You rushed across the imperial palace and the gardens, embarrassed by your encounter with that handsome soldier. Entering your shared room with other of her empress ladies, you laid down on your futon trying to fall asleep but your mind was too busy thinking about him. Suguru.

A smile appeared on your lips and you tried to cover it up with your hand, but it seemed that it was going to stay there.

The next day, you got ready and together with the other ladies-in-waiting you went with the empress to walk through the imperial gardens. The breeze that was blowing was pleasant and the sun was not yet bothersome at that time of year.

“Heard you coming late to the bedroom yesterday.” Riko whispered to you.

You got scared and nodded. “Yes…”

“Did you go to draw again?” She questioned you, you simply nodded. “The empress would love your drawings if you showed them to her.”

“I am not an entertainment lady, I am a personal assistance lady.” You whispered, reminding Riko of your position.

Being the fourth daughter of a nobleman and after your sisters and brother had married and settled into their respective places, your parents had sent you to the royal palace to become the empress's lady-in-waiting.

You arrived at that place when you were 17 and now you were 20. A lot had happened since then, but you had achieved the respect of the empress.

Now you were walking across the imperial palace, which has her empress, favorite flowers and trees decorating the garden. It was a beautiful place and you wish you could take a moment to admire it and be able to draw it later.

Your steps were firm and you walked behind the empress. There were six of you who served her, Riko and you were the youngest but both of high birth. Unlike you, Riko was also part of the empress's entertainment group. But you limited yourself to serving her in hers day after day.

“Stop gossiping like young girls.” Said the most senior of the court ladies and the one who ruled over all of you.

It was then when you realized what the other girls were gossiping about and you felt how your cheeks turned into a bright red.

The soldier you met yesterday was in the training field with more soldiers training and most of them were with nothing covering their upper bodies, which provoked the sighs of the ladies.

You tried hiding behind the rest of the ladies, you didn’t want to face that man when your body was reacting that way with just seeing him with nothing on on his upper body.

“Empress Shōshi, what are you…?”

“Let’s go and see how the young men train, alright?” The empress said with a smile with a fierce gaze.

You clenched your fists in your kimono and took a deep breath following the others' footsteps. When you arrived at the training area, all the soldiers present bowed to greet the empress. From the corner of her eye, you watched as he did it too and when he raised his gaze he fixed it on you. A dance of butterflies was established in you and you had to turn your face quickly.

You could still feel his gaze in you, it was impossible not to notice it and your whole face was probably burning by the embarrassment.

“Good job young men!” The empress spoke. “I’m glad to see we have such strong soldiers to fight the devils!”

The men cheered and applauded all at once.

The empress nodded and then looked at her first lady. “Let’s go to see my son.” Then she looked at the rest of you. “The rest of you are free for the rest of the day.” She said and started walking away from the field.

Your companions started to celebrate and you felt Riko approaching you. “We should go to the capital to eat something sweet.” She smiled.

“Oh… yeah….”

“Excuse me…” His soft voice came through your ears.

Riko looked at him surprised and you, on the other hand, felt how nervous you were. “Yes?” Riko spoke.

“I would like to talk with the lady here.” He looked at you.

You felt Riko’s gaze on you. “Hmm… yeah sure.” You said looking at your hands. “Riko, if…”

“It’s okay!” She smiled and then turned to look at him. “Please take her, she is all yours.”

Riko disappeared for your view as soon as she finished her sentence, leaving you alone with that man. You felt his eyes on you and how they scanned you.

“You are even prettier with the sunlight.” He said and you looked at him with surprise.

Suguru felt embarrassed as he watched your reaction but his mouth moved before he could process his thoughts properly.

You started to play with your kimono as you tried to find your words. “Thank you…” You said trying to hide the intense red color your cheeks were getting.

Suguru smiled slightly and then he took a deep breath. “Would you like to come to the market?”

“Oh…” You looked at him with surprise.

Is this what Riko told you? How do men court women? You had never had anyone interested in you, since you had been sent from a young age with the empress and your duties were focused exclusively on the empress, so establishing relationships outside the circle in which you moved was almost impossible.

“I…” But your voice stayed hanging in the air as a louder voice interrupted you.

“Suguru!” A white haired boy appeared. “C’mon didn’t we say we were going to try those…” His eyes looked at you. “Oh! Hey!”

“Hi sir.”

“Satoru, leave us alone.” Suguru said.

“Why?!” The guy named Satoru protested.

Suguru closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m trying to court the lady that is here and you are disturbing us.”

Your heart started to pound fast after hearing his words. So he was indeed trying to court you.

“Oh… Oh! Oh my bad!” The guy said. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry my lady.”

“Satoru…” He let his friend’s name drag in his mouth while looking at him with defiant eyes.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” The white haired man smiled at you again. “Enjoy your time with my friend, miss.”

Before Suguru could do anything, the white haired man disappeared among the other soldiers. “Excuse him.” Suguru finally spoke.

“Oh… never mind, he seemed nice.” You said trying to lighten the mood and ignoring how your heart had changed with the words Suguru had let out. “About what you said…?” You shyly began.

“Yes.” Suguru said firmly. “I wish to court you. If that’s okay for you.”

Your heart raced as Suguru’s words echoed in your mind. This was the first time anyone had made such an offer to you. While you had witnessed other ladies of the court being courted, this was entirely unfamiliar territory for you.

Nervously, you glanced up at Suguru and quickly averted your gaze. His purple eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You felt a tremor of weakness ripple through you as you locked eyes with him again, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think clearly.

“Why me?” You whispered, almost to yourself, still unable to fully process the weight of his proposal.

You had never imagined being the object of such attention, let alone from someone like him, who seemed so far away from you.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as if he understood your turmoil. “Why not you?” He asked softly, his voice was smooth. “When I saw you at the ceremony, when our eyes met, I felt a deep connection between us. And that brief and fleeting encounter in the garden made me want to know you more, to know more about you, to know different facets of you.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and your mind raced with confusion and excitement. “I… I would like that.” You said as a smile formed on your face.

You saw how Suguru’s face started to light up. “Great!” He said out loud. “Should we…? Should we go to the market? Or just for a walk?”

“Anything is fine for me.” You smiled.

And with that smile of you, the two of you began strolling through the city, your conversations flowing naturally, interrupted only by your laughters. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the night fell upon you. But that was not your last encounter.

Suguru began finding subtle ways to carve out time to see you, and soon, you found yourself doing the same, creating excuses just to steal a few minutes with him. A glance there, a brief conversation, all those moments, were enough to make your heart race and leave you yearning for more.

Like that the days started to pass, those days turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months. And before the winter breeze hit the capital you found yourself getting proposed.

“I know it is sudden and that my time in the capital is about to end but…” Suguru touched your hands, which were cold by the wind. “Will you become my wife?”

You felt how your eyes watered and your vision got blurred. That was a moment you never thought you would be able to live, to experience, to get proposed by the person you loved the most. Your heart rose and with shaky hands you hugged Suguru’s body.

He was warm, he was your home.

You loved him.

And he loved you.

You were everything he needed and everything he was looking for.

Every shared moment with you was like discovering a new world, a hidden gem no one else had ever seen. Suguru was crazy in love with you and spending the rest of his life with you and building a future with you was everything he wished for.

“Yes Suguru…” Finally your voice broke the silence of the moment.

You both connected your lips in a kiss, that wasn’t your first kiss. No. The first one was near the sea on a free day both of you had, Suguru took you there by horse and as you watched the sunset he kissed your lips. It would be wrong to say you weren’t amused by it. And to say that Suguru was sweating when he took that step.

But it felt right, it felt good. It was magical.

But every shared moment between the two of you felt magical, unique.

The ceremony was held in your household, your father was incredibly happy knowing you were marrying one of the most promising soldiers of the emperor and wanted everyone in your hometown to know about it.

It wasn't as intimate as you would have hoped, but none of that mattered when the two of you finally became husband and wife. That night was the first you spent together, your bodies becoming one and enjoying each other's warmth and pleasure.

Everything seemed peaceful, Suguru was sent into small missions near the capital and you continued to serve the empress. And like that three years went by, everything was just perfect, your love was still there, like nothing could shake it.

Till the day came.

“That’s not possible!” A guard said out loud.

“Lower your voice, the information still unknown in the capital.” The other guard.

You shouldn’t be listening, but curiosity was bigger.

“Do you hear yourself? If that’s true then this is our end… humanity is condemned.”

“I know… apparently they will send almost all warriors to the front line by tonight.” Your eyes opened.

Suguru was going to be sent? Where? What was happening?

Pulling your kimono up slightly, you began to walk, eventually that light step turned into a run that made your chest rise rapidly. Suguru was training that day, you had to ask him, to find out what was going on. Your pulse quickened when you saw that they weren't training, but gathered in small groups talking.

“Suguru!” You screamed as you approached him.

Your name came out of his lips. “What are you…?”

“What is going on? Is it true that they are sending you off? Why?” You said as you held into his arms.

“Try to calm down love…” He touched your face. “Let’s talk, alright?”

“Okay…”

Suguru excused himself from the rest and walked with you, to a more private space. Your heart was raising, you knew that the words that were about to come out of Suguru’s mouth weren’t going to be good news.

You sat down as Suguru kneeled in front of you and took a deep breath. “Something happened in the northern areas of the territory…” His hand felt heavy on yours. “We are going to be sent there, to try and deal with it.”

“What? Why?” You didn’t understand, why did they have to take your husband away from you? Why in that moment when you were starting to think of starting a family?

“Love… I have been promoted, I will be the captain of a group, directly under the orders of the general from where I am sent.” He looked at you, you wanted to be happy for him, you knew how much Suguru had worked to advance but you couldn't feel joy... only an anguish that had settled in your chest.

“When are you leaving?” You whispered, you didn’t want to hear the responde.

“Tonight…” Suguru whispered back and from your mouth it came a soft sob. “I will be back.” He hugged you. “I swear on myself that I will come back to you, my love.”

You held onto him, afraid of letting him go. But that hug couldn’t last forever even if you wanted to.

That night you saw him leave, with the promise that he would return to you. The darkness of the night did not let you see the group that left to fight and with your heart in your mouth you returned to the palace, to the house that they had very kindly given you after getting married, but that night, it felt emptier than ever.

What you didn't know at the time was that the fight that had begun that spring would last for at least another three springs. But there was still a long way to go before that end was reached.

final notes: the next chapter we will continue with the past, I’m not sure if it will be the full chapter or just part of it. I hope everyone enjoyed it. And by the way, their ages with the chapter ending are 24 Suguru and 23 y/n

— comment if you wanna be tagged

🏷️: @drownedpoetess @aducksmokingquack @walkingtravesty97 @pdacex @zhenyuuu @n1vi @blendingcaramal @mimiixen @bbyxxm @paprikaquinn @my1fx @alwaysfreakingout @simplysm1le @lavender-hvze @ghostkat23 @lveegsoi @madaqueue @katsukisbitch @tbzzluvr @that-one-xachster

[askthestresseddepartment]

Oh, um...thanks for sticking around and following this VERY self-indulgent ask blog!

I only hope that the wait for the ending will be worth it...

[demonio-fleurs]

i'll admit, i didn't really expect bonney to be able to turn into nika/go g5, but like ??????? it makes sense ???

one piece has always been about freedom, and for bonney, nika represents freedom. it represents the life she wishes she and her dad could have had, free from pain and suffering and free to do what they wanted.

i do think this chapter could have benefited with like... two more pages before the final double spread, maybe have the page right before it be a flashback page of bonney thinking about the dance with kuma, her thinking of how saturn (i think it was saturn) told her that as she grew up her powers would grow weaker, and then thinking of luffy saying "it's when i'm at my most free" and transforming.

but i do not think it was out of left field, or badly written, or whatever power scalers are bitching about. i think it could have been done better, and i hope the anime includes some of what i mentioned when it gets to this chapter, because i think that will really help people process it.

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Reunions and Secrets

Chapter 13/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 13,809

Summary: Hop is racing back home to see his girl, the rest of the party is simply killing time until some parents show up. But, the three who boarded a plane from California might not be the only ones jumping into things... There just might be a few more faces coming back around...

More ST Fics

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

Unfortunately, the walkie Steve handed the Byers boys had a dead battery. So the folks in the car couldn’t call ahead and tell El that her dad was coming back. Which just about made Hopper mad enough to swerve off the road. He felt like every second she didn’t know was a second she was sad or in pain. The boys assured him that, while she obviously missed him and was going to be crazy happy to get him back, she was happily watching a movie. But that didn't ease him. He needed to get back to Hawkins and let her know he was okay. And he needed to do it at that very moment.

At the house, everything was otherwise fine. Everyone was bundled together across the couch or sitting on pillows in front of it, wrapped under various blankets.

After Jonathan had to go, Argyle and Nancy were left sat together on the left, surprisingly getting along pretty well after Nancy resigned herself to the fact that he was pretty good company. His easygoing everything still confounded her, but, somehow, it made Nancy stop in her tracks and think to at least give it a try. Now that she knew he wasn't just stupid and unaware. Instead, he just chose to lean on the happier side of things anyway, and Nancy could use a skill like that. They still weren't super close, but there they were, sitting next to each other while Mr. Banks approached the climax of his character arc.

Next to that pair sat Steve and Robin, with Erica between them on the floor. Obviously, they were together, as best friends like them liked to be. Robin had even gone so far as to have her legs crossed over Steve's while El hugged onto her arm. Robin wasn't entirely sure how she managed to secure a spot in the girl's heart since they barely met before she left for California, but it made her feel pretty good anyway.

Next to El were Mike and Lucas, with Dustin sitting below them on the floor cushions. Their band of boys on the right end of the living room had included Will until he had to leave for the airport. But they still sat close together. Like they had for sleepovers from years past. They were all comfortably awaiting the arrival of some real adults and to start eating the dinner they’d put together.

And the movie itself was beginning to wrap up with that damned ‘Let's Go Fly a Kite’ scene that had Steve doing everything in his power not to sniffle. If nobody looked at him, no one would see that the last few minutes always made him tear up. He just had to keep it together. Just for a minute longer.

And then Robin looked over.

Of course, she did. Because she noticed what this movie did to him when they watched it together last time. But she didn’t draw any attention to him. She just nuzzled in a little closer to his side and rested her head on his shoulder as they watched the credits roll past a kite-filled, cloudy sky. It was nice being known like that, he decided. Nice to have someone know what you needed and how to go about it. Even if she pushed his buttons too.

As the movie was just ending, there was frantic honking coming from the driveway. The kids had just the time to get stood up and look at the front door before it was thrown open by Jonathan and Will.

“El! Come on!” Will yelled, looking like he was bursting with good news.

El was already approaching, planning to see Joyce and welcome her back, when from behind them walked in Jim.

“Hi,” he said like it was the only thing he could think to say after missing his girl for the past eight months.

And while she was slowly stepping forward a moment ago… the second she saw his face and that warm smile he was wearing, she was running right into him. Probably could’ve knocked him over if he hadn’t braced for it. And before wasting another second, she was wrapping her arms around him and noticing how differently they fit together this time. He was so thin, and she was taller, her arms longer.

But it was still him. It was still Hop.

She buried her face into him as the tears dropped from her squeezed-shut eyes. Jim also looked like he was about to cry if it was any consolation. Then, after a moment, there was a barely-said mutter spoken into his shoulder.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked her to repeat.

El pulled her head back just enough to spill out between her cries,“ I’m sorry. My- they never came back- I’m sorry I couldn’t find you-“

“Hey. No.” he pulled her in tighter as he said it,” No sorry’s from you, kid. I don’t even want to hear ‘em. I knew if there was any way you’d known, you woulda got me back, alright? I didn’t doubt that you would have gone beyond hell and back to save me. Okay? It’s not your fault, and I never thought it was. Not for one second, El.”

She tucked herself back into him as if trying to escape the rest of the world to focus entirely on the fact that he was actually back with her,” I was waiting the whole time. I always left the door open three inches. I never stopped believing you’d come back.”

He chuckled, and it shook her in such a familiar way. Filling her with the warmth of his laugh for the first time in too many months,” Oh, I know. I know you did. It’s okay now, I’m here. I’m here. I’m sorry I was gone so long, kid. But I made it back before I missed a birthday.”

She nodded her head against him and huffed her own laugh,“ You did.”

“We’re going to have a big one this year, you hear me? No hiding and no secrets this time. You and me, we're going anywhere you want to go, and anyone you want to bring can come. Okay?”

“Yeah.” she agreed while she wiped at her eyes and finally pulled away enough to really look at him,” You look so…”

“So…? Not fat?” he joked.

She laughed, but she missed the squish. Then she looked back up,“ And your hair…”

“My hair? Look at your hair.” he ran his hand over the short buzz with a sigh,“ Yeah. I kinda stole your look, kid.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, leaning his head down and turning to the left and right to let her make a proper evaluation.

“Bitchin’,” she decided before reaching back around his middle,” Except for this part. Don’t like this at all.”

“You don’t? I tell ya, when I go see my doctor, he’s going to say that being presumed dead was just what I needed. You just wait and see.”

She shook her head, and that was the moment Joyce came in. She and Murray struggled with some of the bags, seeing as her boys and Hopper ran to the front door without helping. But when she made it in the door, she just looked at her girl.

El’s smile brightened a little more, and she said,” Thank you.”

Joyce pretty much just dropped everything at that and surged forward to get El into her arms. There was no denying that, over those eight months they’d been without Hopper, El had become her kid too. El sniffled against her for a minute until they all came down from the emotional high of their return. Past El's greetings from them, there were handshakes and hugs with Hop and more hugs and kisses on cheeks from Joyce as they both made their rounds through the rest of the room.

That is until Hopper put a hand to his stomach and groaned,” This is nice and all, but I was promised a big supper. Can we eat already?”

They all laughed at that and motioned to the open dining room doors for the adults to trickle into. The kids moved all the bags from the doorway into the living room and brought all the food in from the kitchen. Then dinner was finally underway. It was nice. Warm. The only dinner like it the Harrington House has ever seen. It was a good change.

They didn’t talk about what happened - or, more accurately - what was happening. They knew they couldn’t avoid it for very long, and the kids really did want a plan for what they could do to keep pushing forward. But… it was suppertime. They could talk about how awful everything was later. But for that moment, they could eat and laugh at how terribly Hopper stuffed his tortilla as it burst at the seams and spilled out all over his plate.

But once they’d all had their fill, Nancy mentioned Susan. It was time to get back to business. Steve was the one to call her trailer, it was already after 8:30, but she answered quickly and said she’d be there shortly for whatever conversation it was they were going to have.

During this, El noticed that Jim and Joyce were connected by their pinkies. Not outright holding hands at the dinner table. But still, they were just a little bit tied together. Just two pinkies, barely crossed, but they said a lot. She looked at it a beat longer before finding their fond smiles and asking,” So I get to keep staying with Miss Joyce, too?”

“Uh-” Jim startled slightly. Like he’d been caught red-handed. But after a second, he simmered down and answered,” Uh, yeah, kid. You can keep staying with Joyce, too. When we aren’t homeless, that is. We both can if that’s fine by all of you,” he said around the whole table, pointedly including Jonathan and Will in the question.

“Yeah.” they all seemed to answer. Happy that their household wouldn’t be splitting apart with the good news, and in agreement that it was about time for Jim and Joyce to get to be happy together. They've been heading in that direction for a while anyway, right? Then everyone moved to the living room, so they could try and figure out more of exactly what’s been going on everywhere.

“Alright, we need favorite songs.” Nancy started as she sat down and pulled back out her notebook and pen.

“What?” Jim asked, clearly that question was just about the last one he’d have expected upon his grand return. He was in Russia for eight months, after all. Surely that sort of thing should’ve come up first.

“You’re favorite song.” Robin repeated for Nancy,” We need to write it down and everyone’s getting their own on a cassette with a Walkman before much longer.”

“Okay?” he agreed, still confused,” it’s-”

“It's 'You Don’t Mess Around With Jim',” El answered for him, a proud smile tugging at her cheeks. God, they had to hurt by then. If she smiled any harder they'd bruise. Her grin just hasn’t faltered since her dad walked through that door. Not for one moment.

“Yeah. She’s right. Obviously.” Jim agreed. It wasn’t a difficult guess. It was the song he played when they moved into his cabin together. The same one he blasted in the car when he had a good day. It seemed like it was more his song than Jim Croce’s sometimes.

They looked expectantly to Joyce next, who just sort of furrowed her brows and asked herself,” What is my favorite song?”

“What about ’Uptown Girl’?” El considered.

Joyce scrunched her nose and shook her head.

Jonathan tried to come up with something next,“ Well, it has to be something Fleetwood Mac, right?”

“I mean, probably. They are my favorite, but I’m not good at remembering the names.”

“What about ’Dreams’?” he offered.

To that, she shrugged and gave a thoughtful,“ …Yeah. Yeah, I like that one.”

“Okay, but do you just like it, or do you love it? ‘Cause, it kinda needs to be one that you really love, like a lot.” Robin emphasized.

“Um… okay, what’s that one that’s all…” Joyce asked her kids and started humming a chorus line.

“Oh! Oh! I know it… It’s- it’s-” Will racked his brain for it. The title was on the tip of his tongue,” It’s- Oh! It’s ’The Chain’! Right?”

“Okay, then that’s it.” Joyce decided,” That’ll be my favorite.”

“And Murray?”

“What is this for?” He questioned Nancy back, like something as simple as his favorite song was a sort of sensitive information that she’d abuse.

“Saving your life?” she answered.

“And if I don’t buy that so easily?”

“Alright, you paranoid bastard,” Erica cut in, having no patience for him,” Newsflash: there’s an evil mind wizard who might try to possess the box of nuts and bolts on the end of your neck. And if he does, the only hope you’ll have is that somebody in this room will have the good sense to put some music over your ears that'll snap you out of his spell. So, unless you really want to die over a song title, I suggest you cough it up.”

“I see you’re still a pleasure, Miss Erica Sinclair…” he held a snide smile for her before answering,” It’s ‘No More’ by Billie Holiday. Duh.”

“The ‘duh’ was petty and uncalled for.” she checked him.

“About as uncalled for as a five-year-old on the doomsday team?” he threw back,” What’re you going to do, color the wizard to death with crayons?”

“This eleven-year-old,” she corrected,” has already stabbed a tire on a police car and swung on a psycho with a blunt object for the cause, and she’s prepared to do a whole lot more. What’ve you done for it? Besides lying about a vacation to Alaska?”

He held up a finger at her,“ For the record, we did go to Alaska. We just also took a little trip over to-”

And then there was a knock on the front door. Susan Mayfield must have arrived. And they didn’t even get through where Jim has been, what Henry/Vecna/One was, or what they were going to tell her about any of it. At any rate, it was happening right now. Nothing they could do about it. They’d just have to follow Jim and Joyce’s lead.

Steve stood up from the living room and went to answer the door. He was the one who invited Susan over, after all. But then, he was left only to find it wasn’t Susan Mayfield standing on his front porch, but Karen Wheeler instead.

“Hi, Steve!” She smiled at him, holding a glass container with what looked like lasagna in it,” Thought we’d take the first shift to drop off some food to keep you kids fed-”

That was when her eyes slipped from his frozen expression and over his shoulder to see Ms. Byers in the living room,” Joyce? When did you get into to-”, and then her gaze fell just to the left,” Hopper?! Okay- Okay, what is going on here? He’s supposed to be… ”

“Sorry, sorry! Hard getting these all in one trip.” Claudia called up as she joined Karen in the doorway with at least three different containers of food herself.

When neither Steve nor Karen responded, Claudia turned to the other mom to ask,” What’s going on?”

And when she looked back inside and saw the same guests that had Karen stunned, she reacted in just about the same way,” Joyce? Ho-Hopper? What’re you…?”

“Um... Surprise?” was all the boy could come up with.

“Surprise?” Karen questioned back at him.

Joyce came forward to meet her at the door,“ Hi, Karen. Claudia.”

“Joyce, what the hell is going on here? He- He died. There was a service, and there were articles, and the news- And- And you mourned, Joyce. And his kid-” Karen had to close her eyes to stop her sputtering questions - her mind was clearly running faster than she could manage- to focus on what she really needed to ask,” What is going on, and why do my children and a bunch of their friends know about it?”

“Why is my Dusty-bun…?”

“Um- It’s-” Joyce tried to figure herself out, until…

“Claudia? Karen?”

Ah, there’s Susan.

“Do they know?” Susan asked Steve.

“Do we know what?” Karen echoed the question.

Jim stood up from the couch and came to the front,“ Okay, so this is happening.”

“Chief Hopper?” Susan now questioned.

“Now that we’re all up to speed on how clueless the moms out here are, can someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Karen requested.

“Seems to me,” Jim decided,” the only option here is to go over everything. From the beginning, for everyone here, until we get to where we stand now. Sound good to everyone?”

“The NDAs?” Nancy inquired from the living room.

“I’m gonna say, executive decision, fuck the NDAs. I’m legally dead, and if the suits didn’t nab me off the plane…" he shrugged," Well, way I see it, everything I do before they realize I’m back is kinda their fault for being so bad at their jobs in the first place.”

“NDAs? Suits?” Karen asked.

“Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Wheeler. We’ll cover that,” Jim acknowledged.

“Holy shit- this is really happening,” Mike said to Nancy, trying to wrap his head around his mother, Karen Wheeler, knowing about all the stuff they’ve been up to over the last two and a half years.

“Language, Mike,” she called over.

“Okay, Mom, it’s kind of crazy to think that we’re going to be inviting you into hell, but-”

“Language, Nancy!”

Steve pulled the door open further and motioned for the moms to join the rest of them in the living room,“ Why doesn’t everybody just come on in?”

“Yeah, bring ‘em all in, Steve. Let’s just tell everyone’s mothers about the goddamn Upside Down.”

“Language, Dustin!” Claudia had to say to her own. To Karen, she huffed,” Geez, you’d think we raised our kids in a barn…”

“And what was that? The ‘Upside Down’ that you’re going to be telling us about?” Karen pointed out as they all got seated in Steve's living room.

Joyce thought,“ Well… um, where do we start?”

“With me?” El raised her hand.

“Yeah, we’ll start there.” Jim agreed.

The next hour or so was filled with the coverage of everything. Everything that started way back in November ‘83, and they moved forward as chronologically as they could. The kids told their sides, adults answered most of the questions, had to excuse how they couldn't stop the kids from being involved, explained away every coverup story, filled in context for every mystery scar… It was a wild ride. There were a lot of interruptions and even more disbelief. El had to change the tv channel five times and lift it off the entertainment center before any of them started to believe they were telling truth. But when they did… oh, when they did.

“And that’s about everything that happened up until two weeks ago.” Joyce concluded,” Clearly, more has just gone on, but we haven’t even had time to discuss that amongst ourselves yet, so I guess you’ll be here while we try to figure that out, well, now.”

“You’re trying to tell me that my children could’ve died countless times over the last three years, just because… why?” Karen was at a loss for words.

Joyce swore to her,“ We always tried to keep the kids out of it. We told them over and over again to stay home, or at the middle school, and, just, not put themselves on the front line while we tried to deal with it. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our kids don’t listen very well.”

“You’re telling me…” Karen muttered, shooting a glance at her own.

“And they saved my Will. Back when he went missing, so many people didn’t believe that something was going on. And El, she never chose to be a part of this. She got stuck with it. And this town is stuck with it. The Lab... the problem is here, it started here. And, at the end of the day, this is the crew trying to solve that problem.”

"We're the doomsday team," Erica added, using Murray's name for their group.

“And Max? She just… happened to have made friends with the kids involved and wanted to know everything herself? The reason she’s in a hospital bed right now is because last year we happened to move to the town with monsters, and she happened to find the only boys who knew about it?”

They were all struck a little silent by the question. It was Lucas who eventually answered her,“ Yeah. That's pretty much how it...”

Susan’s hand pressed into her chest, and it didn’t seem like she even saw anyone else in the room,“ If I hadn’t said that we needed a change of pace… to get away from California and the fighting… She’d be fine?”

“It’s not your fault, Susan.” Claudia put a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her.

She stood up out of the other mother's reach,“ I was the one that said taking Billy to the Midwest might temper him. I thought a small town without so much to do might bring down his aggression and help us manage his behavior… If I had just let Neil take us to Vermont instead, we wouldn’t be…”

“Susan. You didn’t know. If you did, you would’ve never made that choice.” Karen assured her,” If I knew my kids were doing this, I would’ve packed them up the second...” Karen looked at Joyce when she realized what she was getting at. She would've made her kids leave after Will went missing. Leaving him behind for their family's good.

“I would’ve moved Dustin and me to my brother’s ages ago,” Claudia added.

“But I brought them here! If I hadn’t, they never would’ve-”

“Maybe they wouldn’t have.” Nancy gave her,” And maybe things would be a little bit better for a few of us if everyone had pulled us away from Hawkins when Will went missing…”

She shook her head and continued,“ But if you had, he would’ve never been found, and he would’ve died, scared and alone. And Joyce and Jonathan would’ve never known what happened to him. And El would’ve never stayed free of that lab. And maybe Barb wouldn’t have been at the wrong place at the wrong time because of me, and maybe she’d be fine. But someone else would’ve been in her place. And maybe all the people who were still here wouldn’t have stood a chance if we weren't here. But we were. And we noticed, and we fought back against an invading dimension of monsters with three successes and one pending results. There were losses. We know that. But we are what Hawkins has to fight for it. And I don’t regret being on the team.”

“You don’t?” her mother asked.

“No. I really don’t. I wish I’d done a better job in places. I wish I didn’t… make so many mistakes. But I don’t regret being on the team. We’re the team. And we have each other’s backs.” Nancy looked over and took Robin’s hand in hers before she realized she was even going to do it, simply remembering the vines and the fear,” We don’t leave each other behind. Even if we have to face down terrifying creatures or carry someone bleeding out of hell, we have each other. And now that you know what’s going on, you’re all on the team, too.”

Susan seemed a little far off in her head, but she sat back down while Claudia asked,“ And what does that mean? Being on the team?”

“It means, well, you help us not let the world end. Whatever skills you’ve got to bring to the table, we’ll use ‘em and find a way out of this mess. Because we don’t have any other choice.” Jonathan answered.

Karen continued,“ And what’s happening now? What’s all this… spring break business that happened?”

And thus, they went into another long hour of explaining. Now having to string together Henry Creel and Russia, which was a much more convoluted mess to sort out. It took a while, but they explained everything until everyone - all seventeen of them, as crazy as it was - knew where they stood currently on the apocalypse radar.

They also ended up eating a lot of the brownies Claudia had shown up with.

Comfort food to combat the reality of their horror stories. Or something like that.

By the end of the night, everyone was way more involved, and Lucas and Erica were left begging Karen not to tell Sue and Charles about everything. They were less keen on joining the club of kids whose parents were on the in. But she wasn’t having any of it. She wished she had known what was going on, and Erica is still only eleven, for goodness sake. They deserve to know when it concerns their eleven-year-old. The Sinclairs would be brought into the fold. And that was final.

But she wouldn’t be reaching out to the Buckleys and the Harringtons. She didn’t know them like she knew her neighbors, and both Steve and Robin were very insistent that their parents would only cause issues. Which is the same reason that Karen decided she would not be telling Ted what was going on.

She knew her husband. Knew how he saw giving to anyone else as tantamount to accepting theft. He audibly complains about feeding Mike’s friends when they were over. If he was aware of the situation… he would just up and move them. No discussion. He would just list the house and have them moved to another state without a second thought or consideration. And, as much as Karen would love to remove her kids from the risk entirely, she can’t not help. Not when other mothers’ children would still be in harm's way and they’d be leaving them worse off without the support.

So Ted wasn’t to know. Neither was Holly, obviously. Those Wheelers wouldn’t be a part of this.

The other three would handle it themselves.

And with that thought, Karen suddenly knew a little bit about how her daughter felt these last few years. Keeping such a big secret to spare her family pain and allow her to be there for her friends. She had a good eldest daughter. She’s always known so. But it was new to see it from this light. To know what was actually going on and how strong she's been this whole time.

She’s just been ‘trying to manage it all’.

Like she’d told her the other morning in the hospital hallway. Nancy’s been very alone in managing everything. But she’s had the other members of this team. And now she had her mother. So Karen was going to fight tooth and nail to take some of that burden off her shoulders. And keep her husband off her back. She'd be making sure he dropped his whole 'no keys until you can prove you'll be responsible' thing.

“And those other two should be joining up soon,” Jim remembered.

“Two more?” Steve asked, eyebrows climbing on his face to imagine their group growing even further.

“Yeah, we brought them over but couldn’t really seat them on a commercial flight, for obvious reasons. Dmitri and his son Mikhail.” Joyce explained.

“Mikhail? You don’t think that’ll be confusing?” Mike wondered.

“Would you prefer we left them to the Soviets where Dmitri would’ve been hunted down and executed for defecting because you and his son sort of have similar names, Michael?” Murray questioned.

Joyce dismissed,“ He doesn’t even go by Mike. So, as long as you didn’t decide to give 'Mikhail' a try, we should be fine.”

“So we actually have Russian friends now?” Robin asked.

“Just the two. Yuri was a bastard, so we didn’t invite him along. But Dmitri and his son were good. He was the only reason we knew Hop was alive and in Russia, and he’s sticking the thing out with us now that he’s fought the same monster and wants to retire to small-town America. And his kid was a little quiet, but we did snatch him up in a sudden helicopter ride, so I think he was just shy. Anyway, we got them to America, and I handed off my car to them in California with directions on a map on how to get here so we could help them get set up.”

“How were you planning to pass off heavily-accented, eastern Europeans as just simply 'the new guys in town'?” Erica pressed.

“You don’t know how strong their accents are.” Murray pointed out.

“You telling me no one’s gonna notice the voices of Mother Russia?” she asked back.

“Okay, they have pretty unmistakable accents, but whatever. We can make up some shit about them being double agents in witness protection or something.” Jim grumbled.

“Riiiiiiight, because people in Hawkins are so understanding and respectful of each other’s privacy.”

“Okay, from what I’ve heard, the town is clearing out anyhow. Whoever’s still kicking around can just deal with it.”

There was a little bit more chatter as they finished catching everyone up. Eventually, the moms decided it was time to return home, but they ended up agreeing to a real sleepover at Steve’s, now that they knew what their kids went through. It seemed like letting them spend time together, where they got to keep an eye on each other and know that no one was in danger, was something they just couldn’t say no to. So the three of them headed off into the night with the understanding that they’d be coming back to Steve’s with Erica and Lucas’s parents in the morning to explain it all to them too. And once everyone was together, they'd figure out a strategy for taking out Vecna. Once and for all.

They couldn't do it that night though. So everyone got ready to wind down.

The California crew changed into their newly delivered pajamas, and Claudia made the rounds to everyone's house before dropping off things for the locals. Meanwhile, Steve was getting room assignments figured out. The kids, again, banded together to camp out in the living room with plans to doze off to The Sound of Music. Steve was walking Hopper, Joyce, and Murray up the stairs to show them around the house. Seeing as Joyce’s house was in California, Hopper’s cabin was in shambles, and Murray’s place was in Illinois, they’d all be joining them in the now slightly packed Harrington house. He was in the process of offering the master to Joyce and Hopper since they were an item now and bringing up showers.

“Joyce mentioned you guys didn’t have time to stop and clean up, so I can grab you all some towels and leave you to the bathrooms.”

Jim looked over the moon to think about it,“ Oh, kid, you don’t even know how long I’ve been looking forward to a real, hot shower-” Then he suddenly stopped and grabbed Steve’s shoulders with wide eyes,” Wait- Steve.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“You’re rich people,” he said, asserting the fact without any further context.

Steve’s expression turned more confused,“ Yes?”

“Do your parents have- have one of those- those tubs with the- with the-”

“The jets?” Steve figured,” Yeah, they have a jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom.”

“Oh my god-” Hopper pulled Steve into a just short of crushing hug and smacked a surprising kiss to his forehead before nearly running down the hall, calling back," Joyce! We’re taking the dibs on the master! I LOVE RICH PEOPLE!”

Which was… Okay, was there something in the water? Because everyone kept hugging Steve, and he wasn't entirely opposed to it, but geez, it’s not the level of daily physical contact he’s used to.

Besides that display, Joyce followed in with their bags, and Steve showed Murray to one of the guest bedrooms to make himself at home. Steve went back downstairs to see the kids throwing around even more pillows and blankets and just about beating them into submission to get themselves settled and comfortable for the movie.

Steve took a vote for popcorn and ended up juggling four big plastic bowls of the stuff back into the living room. He passed them out and noticed Robin and Nancy looking over something together while Jonathan and Argyle whispered and glanced over at Argyle's bag. He thought nothing of it until, as he was trying to retake his seat by Robin for the movie, she and Nancy stood up. Said they were going to “be right back” before they broke for the dining room. Then the other two split off right after, presumably to get stoned.

All of this left Steve, once again, so very outnumbered by a bunch of children.

“Always the babysitter…” he groaned as he tugged on the blanket Erica was hogging.

“Then be a good babysitter and sit quietly. It’s starting,” she shot back, like the little spitfire she was, but she let them share the blanket anyway as the opening credits rolled over landscape shots of the Swiss Alps and the orchestra faded in.

The two California boys ended up sitting in the grass against the side of Steve’s house, just out of the view of the street or any neighbors. Argyle was sparking up a joint for them to pass, no longer worried about running out since his Mamá Isadora was nice enough to throw in his stash with his clothes. He thanked his lucky stars all the time that she was so into the flower power, peace and love stuff of the 70’s when he was younger. It was nice that she just understood that kind of stuff with him.

But right now, Jon was the one he needed to reach an understanding with. Because he’s been biting his cuticles down to the quick ever since they crossed the Indiana state line. So, once he got the joint started and took his own drag, he handed it over to his best friend and looked up at the stars. Letting a comfortable silence fall around them just long enough for Jonathan to take a deep inhale and get resolved to reach a blissful marijuana haze. Once he committed himself to getting it, he'd be cornered until they got there.

A winning strategy to make sure he couldn't escape.

“Alright, brochacho, what’re you doing right now?” Argyle asked, looking over at Jonathan as he let out a puff of smoke.

Jonathan looked back, confused, and handed over the joint,“ What do you mean?”

Argyle let him stew in the question for a second as he took his turn before giving it back and reiterating,“ With Nancy. What’re you doing with Nancy?”

“I-” he hesitated to take the blunt being handed back as he tried to deny it,” I’m not doing anything.”

“And that’s the problem,” Argyle proclaimed.

And he looked serious about what he was saying, which Argyle didn’t do often. So Jonathan tried to avoid his eyes. Rolled his own and looked away to ask,“ How could that be the problem?”

“We’ve been in your hometown for over 24 hours now. Right?”

“And?”

“And you haven’t talked to her. Not once, one-on-one.” he pointed out,” Which you kinda have to do to tell her you’re going to Lenora Community.”

Jonathan waved around his hand as he searched for a usable excuse,“ We’ve all been busy with the group, and always with the whole group, and there just hasn't been time to-”

Argyle cut through his fumbling with ease,“ You’re avoiding her, man.”

Jonathan took another draw and locked his eyes on the blade of grass tickling his ankle,“ That such a bad thing to do?”

“It’s only gonna get worse the longer it takes to talk to her. You need to tell her you didn’t apply to Emerson.”

He tried to explain,“ I- I was already floundering with how I was supposed to say it before. And that would’ve just been over the phone-”

“Over the phone wouldn'ta been right anyway,” Argyle threw in, not that Jonathan was really listening.

“-But how am I supposed to just spring this on her now? Right to her face, in the middle of this bullshit Upside Down stuff? And then - after it all blows up and I’ve hurt her - then we’re all just going to go back to California, and it’ll look like I’m running away from the train wreck I caused. Just leaving her behind because I’m not man enough to deal with the fact that…”

That he didn't feel like he was worth Nancy’s time to keep trying. Jonathan was all messed up right now, and he couldn’t seem to pull himself together, and he just couldn’t saddle Nancy with that job. He wouldn't. It wasn't fair to her. He cared about Nancy. Still loved her, in some way. But it wasn't… wasn't how it should be. And he was making it worse every day.

He took another hit, beating himself up in his head and seeming to forget his manners when it came to their puff, puff, pass now that Argyle was making him stop and think too much.

“Yeah, it’s gonna suck. But you can’t pretend like it’s not happening.” Argyle told him firmly,” She deserves to know that she’s headed to Boston alone, and you deserve to not look like you’re gonna blow chunks every time you’re in the same room because you're so guilty over it.”

Jonathan finally looked back over at him, lifting up his hand to admire the joint and ask,“ Can’t we just keep smoking Purple Palm Tree Delight? Eventually, make the problems actually blow away like the seed pods of a dandelion?”

Argyle took it from his fingers and assured him,“ It’s pretty incredible, dude, but not that powerful. It’ll make it feel like they have for a few hours, but you’re always gonna sober up, and the problem’s still gonna be there. Pushing it off will only make it suck even more.”

“I know you’re right. But-” Jonathan tried to argue.

But Argyle kept going,“ I already told you, back in Lenora, that you can’t keep lying about it. And now I know your crew of little dudes has a catchphrase about how ‘friends don’t lie’. Seems like you know what you gotta do. Even if you and Nance are hitting the rocks, you should be a good friend and be honest with her about it. Before she’s in the car driving up north thinking you’ve abandoned her outta nowhere.”

Jonathan rubbed his hands down his face and nodded into them,“ I know. I know, you’re right…”

“That it? Or you gonna try and squeeze another ‘but’ in there?” Argyle got the sentence out without breaking the moment by laughing, but just barely. He definitely smiled to himself at the phrase “squeeze another ‘butt’ in there”.

“That’s it,” he admitted,” You’re right. I need to break up with her. Sooner rather than later.”

Argyle clapped him on the shoulder and held back out the joint as his reward,“ Good boy, Jonny.”

“Can’t do it tonight though.”

He shrugged against him,“ Tonight’s practically over anyway. And you did good making the decision and saying it out loud. We can lose ourselves to the Purple Palm Tree Delight for now, but don’t let yourself get all swept up in things that you keep pushing it off again.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.” Jonathan smiled a second before adding,” I know you’ll keep hounding me if I don’t anyway.”

“You know I will.” Argyle agreed with a self-satisfied smile and a ruffle to Jonathan’s hair.

They ended up staying outside together for a while. Enjoying the easy bliss that the bud draped over them. They were probably out there close to an hour before they decided it was too chilly and went back inside to watch the movie. The girls, however, were not doing something as simple as they were. Instead, Nancy and Robin collected themselves back in the dining room where Nancy unpacked her purse of the notebook, loose papers, and sticky notes into the table.

“So you said you were working on an article?” Robin asked.

Nancy nodded as she sorted through all the bits of her work so far,“ Yeah, the one I was starting before all of this happened. I figured, even if it’s not the same one I was planning to write, I could still put something together. Just, less about the murders as a mystery, and more about Eddie’s innocence of them. You know?”

Robin was following the idea well enough, but Nancy just poured a ton of disorganized chaos in front of her, so she wasn’t really sure where to look,“ Annnnd, this is what you have to work off of?”

“Well, it’s a rough idea right now.” she excused,” Over here, I have my interview notes from Wayne before we knew what was going on, and these pages have a couple of ideas on how to organize and frame the story, and - well, obviously we can’t talk about Upside Down stuff - so I’m still trying to decide how much of our story with the police I can use. Without making the whole thing just look like a story drummed up by a group of teenagers. Which is what it is, at the end of the day, so I keep trying to find a way to distinguish it. Other sources, or just something to make it seem more solid. More reliable.”

“And you want my help on it?” Robin clarified.

Suddenly it struck Nancy that maybe they weren’t friends enough for her to have asked Robin to do this for her,“ Is that weird? I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Not weird.” Robin assured her,” I just- I’m not on the school paper, so I don’t- I don’t know how helpful I’ll be with the whole journalism thing.”

Nancy went just a little rigid at the question. She didn’t meet Robin’s eyes for a bit. Instead, she fiddled with the papers in front of her as she explained,“ Freddie’s already gone. I saw Tonya on the missing person’s board at the high school. And Mary Pat was getting into her parent's car with half a dozen suitcases when I was leaving the hospital. I could try to track down Markus, Amelia, Lucy, Elijah, or Christina, I guess… But they don’t know the truth, so I’d be spending half the time brainstorming just trying to keep my mouth shut, all while having to convince them Eddie’s even a good guy in the first place-”

Then Nancy took a breath and looked at Robin again,“ But you already know those things. And I know you’re smart, so I’m sure you’d be a lot of help while we work on this and… I don’t know. I thought, if we put together something good enough and published it, we might be able to help Eddie get out from under everything. At least in the eyes of the people of Hawkins.”

And Nancy still looked like she was asking. Still unsure that Robin would be willing to help her out on this even though they’ve teamed up on both Dr. Hatch and putting together the original cover story. So Robin smiled and gave a joking,“ And we’re friends, so I’m obviously going to help you.”

Which pulled a grin onto Nancy’s face as she quipped right back,“ Yeah, I was kinda banking on that part too.”

“Alright,” Robin clapped her hands together and surveyed the papers before them,” So besides Wayne pointing the finger at the Creels, he’s also a character witness, like the boys are.”

“Yes, and I can use that, but I need more than just super biased quotes to pull from.”

“Well, the people who are most convinced that Eddie’s the devil are the ones fleeing the county. So we only need to put together enough of a story to assure the people who are still here and on the fence.” Robin hummed to herself,“ Um… what about teachers? Do we know any teachers that particularly liked Eddie? That’d be a little less personal and credible.”

“He was in band and drama. We can reach out to both directors and see if they’d be willing to say something good about him.”

“And what about Steve?” Robin suggested.

“Steve?” Nancy had no clue what Robin was doing bringing him into it.

“Well, the guy’s pretty famously not the kind of person who’d be tight in Eddie’s social circle, right?” she began to explain,” So a statement from him about what happened while we were all out there, it’d look better than one from the kids. Or from you being a Hellfire kid’s sister. Mr. Well-Known and Popular taking center stage to say even he’s sure Eddie didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, something from Steve could help.” Nancy agreed.

“Is there anything else you might’ve not thought of yet?”

“Well,” Nancy considered,” Something that we didn’t have before, but have now… is Jim Hopper. If we re-introduce Hop back into the town soon and get a quote that he looked at the case and his gut says it’s not the Munson kid, he’d be a pretty official source.”

Robin seemed to brighten up seeing Nancy come up with something even though she seemed stuck a moment ago,“ See. Pretty damn well. Despite a few I-don’t-know’s.”

“We still don’t know if it’ll work.” Nancy tried to remind her.

But Robin’s belief in Nancy was pretty unshakeable,“ Well, by my count, that’s a few character statements, an inside peak from semi-heroic Steve Harrington, long lost chief Hopper’s opinion on the official report, and once the police department drops the charges… If I was reading something with all of that, I’d be pretty convinced. You’re a genius, Nancy, bask in it.”

“It happens to be a lot easier when I have you tackling the problem with me.” Nancy tried to share the praise.

“Oh, please,” Robin waved her off,” I’m just stoked I get to help Nancy Wheeler write the most important newspaper article to come out of this town.”

“Okay, a triple murder that preceded a natural disaster is probably the biggest thing to officially happen in Hawkins,” she had to admit,” But it’s still just the school paper. It’s not like I’m the editor at the Hawkins Post or anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. When Emerson sees you, Nancy Wheeler, reporting live with the first inside scoop, they are going to beg you to run your own class up there.”

She rolled her eyes at the other girl and teased,“ Oh really?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be almost as amazed as I am and throw a degree at you as soon as you step on campus.” Robin sat back while Nancy shook her head at her,“ What? You think I’m expecting too much of them?”

And Nancy couldn't stop the giggle rising in her chest, nor the automatic “You’re an idiot, Robin Buckley” that slipped out of her.

“You just said I was smart!” Robin tried to dispute.

“Maybe, but you can still be an idiot too.” Nancy continued to huff until her cheeks her red. She fanned them off when they’d settled down a bit and reached over,“ Here, take a pen and help me start drafting this thing. And if you can come up with a snappy, eye-catching title, that’d be helpful.”

Robin pulled out her extra gravely, spooky narrator voice and offered,“ Eddie Munson: More Man Than Monster!”

“Alliteration is not the only requirement.”

Next, she buzzed through,“ We Know You Think He’s A Serial Killer With Demon Powers, But He’s Just A Dorky Guy, And Jason’s The Crazy One!”

“I said snappy, Buckley! That's way too long! Come on, gimme something I can work with!”

“I’ll come up with something! Let me think on it a minute.”

They sat at the table working on it together all the way until Maria ran away from the von Trapps and the intermission started. At that point, all the kids ran off for bathroom breaks, and the girls took the hint it was about time to join them and wind down for the night. By then, Jonathan and Argyle had already returned, and Hopper had made himself comfy, looking like he was ready to doze off right there.

Steve stood up and took all the bowls of popcorn, empty except for the remaining un-popped kernels, into the kitchen to dump out and clean up. When he was focused on this task, Joyce must’ve wrapped up her shower and snuck up behind him. Somehow just suddenly coming up behind him with a kind of serious and gentle energy that said she had something to talk to him about.

“Hi, honey…” she already sounded like she had a specific thought on her mind she was getting to.

“Hi, are you both getting settled in fine?” he thought to ask while he scrubbed away popcorn butter with a soapy sponge.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hop just conks out on that couch, so yeah, I’d say so.” she gave a small laugh at the thought.

“That’s good.” was all he could come up with when he realized he didn’t have anything else to stall with until he finished the dishes.

“Um, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She took a step closer to him,“ Is there any reason I had to wipe some dust off the bedside table?”

Shit.

He tried to excuse it,“ I should’ve cleaned that up before you guys got here-“

“Honey,” she interrupted him with a soft voice,” How long has it been since your parents have been home?”

Right. That… that makes sense to ask, given the evidence she found. Great. Great, great, great. How does he get out of this without just spewing a few obvious lies?

“It hasn’t been that long.” he tried anyway.

Joyce made a face like she wanted to wince,“ It’s dust… It takes a while to collect like that.”

It does, doesn’t it? Yeah. Of course, it does.

Steve tried to sound casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, and he was just tossing the numbers around to remember how long it’s been exactly,“ I guess… it’s been about three months.”

“Wait- you’ve been…” Joyce looked heartbroken for him,” Were they even home for Christmas?”

He shrugged and moved on to the last bowl, hoping he could finish it up quickly,“ It’s fine. You know, Robin came over every day that week, and we watched all of our favorites. We had a good time. Even ended Christmas Eve with It’s A Wonderful Life before I drove her home so-“

“Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I wish I’d known.” she insisted.

“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask. Because, really, why should she have? Joyce didn’t owe him a proper Christmas. He wasn’t her kid to take care of. And it wouldn't have done anyone any good anyway,” What would've been the point in making you sad in Lenora?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. At least not immediately. But after he put down the bowl on the drying rack and looked at her to try and pass back into the living room, then she spoke up,

“You know, we haven’t really talked it through as a family yet - the family’s changing, and there hasn't been a second to consider it - but I think we’re going to decide to move back over here. To Hawkins. Once everything resolves.”

“That’ll be nice. For all the kids to get to go to school together again, I mean-”

But Joyce continued,“ I bring it up because - I know it’s quite a ways away still - but I’d like to invite you to our house for Christmas this year. If your folks are gone again, and you don’t have family to spend it with.”

Oh.

She didn’t want to pressure him, so she added,“ You don’t have to if you’d be uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted you to know you’d be welcome at our dinner table and around our tree, even if it’s smaller than what you might be used to-”

“No. No, that sounds…” he struggled with how to describe exactly how warm and fuzzy the invitation made his chest feel, but he settled on,” That sounds really nice. I, uh, really appreciate the thought, Joyce. I don’t know what’ll happen in nine more months, but-”

“No, of course, it’s still really far away-”

“But I’d like to. Join your household for Christmas.” he decided anyway.

A soft smile came to her face,“ Then, I hope I’ll get to see you if your parents aren’t able to-”

“Would it be okay if I showed up anyway… even if they were in town?” he was a little shy to ask, but honestly, even if his mom and dad were there, he’d rather go somewhere where it'd actually feel like Christmas.

“Of course, sweetheart.” she assured him, reaching up to set a comforting hand on his shoulder,” Any reason at all, you’re always more than welcome to come by. When we aren’t already borrowing your home, that is.”

“Okay.” he nodded,” Thank you, Joyce. I-”

“Steve!” Dustin yelled from the living room,” Are you trying to miss the Baroness’s horrible attempt at parenting or something?!”

Joyce smiled wider, in that warm way that moms always seemed to in movies, and told him,“ We should probably head in to join them.”

“Yeah. Probably.” he agreed.

They ended up all together in the living room as the last hour and a half of the movie played through. By the end of it, the kids had fallen asleep, including El, who was cuddled up on top of her snoring dad. Joyce went back up to the master bedroom, and Murray went for the guest room he was set up in. Nancy headed for the other while Robin welcomed herself to Steve’s room since he was passed out in the pile.

Maybe an hour or so after the movie finished though, he blinked his eyes back open to realize he’d fallen asleep in the first place. Erica ended up using his lap as a pillow, so it took him a few minutes of very slow and careful movements to get out from under her head before he was able to break for the stairs and try to get some sleep in an actual bed. Instead of a car seat and sofa cushion, of course.

Lo and behold, he opens his door to see Robin all spread out like a starfish under his covers. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he crossed the room and had to shove over her limbs to try and squish himself into bed.

“Hey. Doofus. It’s rude to wake a sleeping lady,” she mumbled half-asleep to him, most of it went right into the pillow.

“It’s rude to steal a guy’s bed and spill all his secrets.” he fired back.

“You fell asleep on the couch, I didn’t want a sore back,” she rolled over a bit so she was speaking more clearly.

“I had a crazy morning…” he groaned.

With that, Robin seemed to wake up just a bit,” What do you mean 'crazy morning'? Explain.”

Steve felt the familiar urge to clam up, the warning to not be vulnerable, but he always knew he could ignore it when it was Robin he was with,“ My dad called. Got an earful. Kinda went off on some junk cars and shit after.”

She turned over enough to look at him,“ You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to-?”

“Nah. I’m tired, Rob. Just wanna go to sleep.” he looked back at his ceiling and mumbled,” But we’ll find some time to run off and talk about it later. That and what we're doing about Vickie.”

"Dingus," she shoved him before snuggling herself in a little closer,“ Sorry I told so many of your secrets today.”

“It’s fine.” he sighed and looked back at her,” You spilled a few of your own too, so I guess it’s sorta even.”

She grinned at him,“ A few.”

“But not all of them.”

She closed her eyes and hummed for a moment before nodding along,“ Nope. Not all of them. I’m a girl who likes to keep an air of mystery about her, you know.”

“That why didn’t even bring up the other reason why you like ‘Dancing Queen’ so much?” he asked.

There was a pause after the question before Robin spoke in a voice rich with the sound of her smile,“ I haven't the faintest clue as to what you're referring to.”

“You’re telling me it’s not even a little bit because we spent your seventeenth birthday together?” he dared her to deny it.

Her voice hiked a pitch higher as she feigned confusion,“ We did?”

“Oh, yeah,” he squished in closer behind her and reminisced,” Little over two weeks after Starcourt burned down when you were still so freaked out about joining the end of the world club that you didn’t even want to celebrate? You were all ‘what’s the point of anything- nothing is safe- how do I live life as a normal person anymore- I can’t handle this-’ all the time. So I convinced you to come with me, and I snuck you into a club over an hour away the night before. You were stammering the whole ride over that you weren’t even eighteen yet - not even seventeen yet, technically - so there was no way they’d let you in. But I managed it anyway. And I even got the DJ to play your favorite song for you, right at midnight. So you got to be the Dancing Queen the second you became seventeen. What? That didn’t have anything to do with that at all?”

“That happened?” she tried again.

“You’re so stupid.” he playfully shoved her messy head of hair on his pillow,” You didn’t even let me sneak you a drink, so I know you remember it.”

“Maybe I do. Sue me for trying to keep a few of our secrets just our own.”

“Never.” he hummed as he shimmied to try and get comfortable. Ended up laying his arm over Robin’s waist when a thought occurred to him,“ You know this is gonna cause so many rumors, right?”

She gave a melodramatic gasp and cried,” Steve and Robin! Sharing a bed! What ever might they do?!”

He played along with her theatrics,“ It couldn’t be… they’ll… fall asleep!” and then he squeezed his arm around her tighter for effect.

“You’re such a dork,” she told him.

“No, I’m not. You’re all the dorks. Lucas, Max, and I are the cool ones.”

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that.” she reached over her shoulder to pat his head.

“It’s the truth-”

Then she smeared her hand down his face,“ Sssshhhhhhhhh, Stephen, my sweet summer child, shut up and let me sleep.”

“I’m older, and I was born in winter-” he tried to correct her, but she was smooshing his lips around before he could finish.

“Ssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh”

He had to shake his face to get her to back off,“ At least scoot over, Rob. You’re hogging all the bed space.”

“Don’t be afraid of some cuddles.”

“I’m not, but we’re already spooning, and my ass is hanging off the mattress. Now scoot.”

It took a few more minutes for them to get themselves situated, but once they did, Steve and Robin both felt safer than they had all week.

They fell asleep like that. Robin all wrapped up in Steve’s arms. They both ran warm though, so they’d most likely end up kicking each other away as the night went on, but that was just par for the course with them. It’s still a little crazy to him that he has someone he cares about enough to hold, and it’s not some romantic thing. All of the touch he got to have in the past has come from romance. But when it’s the two of them, it didn’t have to be about that. He can just love someone without all the other stuff.

It was nice. Simple. Easy.

Steve Harrington seems to be learning a lot about non-romantic love those days. The way he was with the kids, his platonic bond with Robin, all these Hawkins moms showing him what familial ties to their kids can look like, even extending some of it to him… He did wish he could get a handle on the romantic kind too, seeing as he felt like he was completely losing interest in it no matter who he was with. But at the end of the day, the non-romantic stuff was pretty nice too.

Those were the kind of thoughts that carried him off to sleep. Robin’s were of a similar vein. Appreciating her best friend’s snarky remarks and comfortable arms as she drifted off. But her mind circled who else she’d like to share a nap with someday. She had thoughts of Vickie, of course. Funny thing is, Vickie wasn’t the only one she considered…

But that was a secret she wouldn’t dare speak of.

The rest of the night was nice. Uneventful. No monsters or phone calls. And when they woke up in the morning, just as was expected, they were both nearly pushed off of the bed by the other in a tangle of limbs and sheets. What they hadn’t expected was the smell of cooking wafting up from the kitchen.

Because Hopper took it upon himself to make breakfast.

God, he was such a dad. A good dad. For a house of way too many kids with shitty dads, he was a good dad.

Robin and Steve shoved against each other as they woke up and muddled their way downstairs, and it didn’t take long for everyone to have gathered to eat. Jim wasn’t very thoughtful about being quiet. The sound of pans on the stovetop wasn't gentle, it was time for everyone to wake up already anyhow. Seeing everyone with bed heads and sleepy eyes around the table was pretty fun. They all ate the array of bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, and eggs as Jim whipped them up.

Wasn’t too much later that there was some knocking on Steve’s front door. The five parents were each equipped with a mug of coffee and welcomed into the living room to discuss… everything. Again. It went just about the same as it had with the moms the night before. But this time, Nancy was sure to get all their favorite songs, too.

Karen has apparently always loved Olivia Newton-John and had a particular attachment to ‘I Think I’ll Say Goodbye’. Claudia got stuck between something by The Pointer Sisters or Billy Joel. It was Dustin who said that, because she was borderline in love with Billy, something of his was the safer bet. So she decided on 'Just the Way You Are'. Susan could only think of Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ because of how much Max played it after the Snow Ball. Sue always used Diana Ross songs for her kids' lullabies, ‘Reach Out I’ll Be There’ was her favorite. And Charles always insisted that the song they played for the first dance at their wedding was the best in the world, Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Girl’.

When everyone was settled on the situation most of the kids said they’d head home with their own parents in a bit, except for Lucas who went ahead and rode to the hospital with Steve before they all split off. The two wanted to check on the patients, of course. Susan had to work, but they promised her they’d call if anything happened or after she got off to tell her how Max looked. The boys walked fast past the cameras and got checked in to visit with Max and Eddie before they broke off into the opposite rooms with a plan to check in around lunchtime and eat together if there wasn’t any change in either’s condition.

So Lucas went into Max’s, and Steve turned into Eddie’s room and greeted him as he sat down.

“Sorry, I’m late today. Planned to show up on time, at eight, but those kids’ parents are so talkative. Honestly, you’re lucky you’re missing out on all the discussion that’s happened at my place in the last twelve hours. Turns out every parent in the midwest wants to be on the apocalypse squad. Anyway, sorry I was late. I’m here now for whatever’s on tv today.”

Steve was trying to relax and sit still. He honestly was. But it sucked. Everything sucked, and there was nothing good to watch, so he stood up practically every ten minutes to flip back through the channels on the hospital cable. He sort of wished he was the kind of guy who liked reading. Lucas seemed to enjoy reading that book to Max. They talked about it on the drive over. Lucas was apparently doing different voices for each character and everything. Making a show of it for her. It was sweet.

Steve couldn’t do something like that.

On what was probably his tenth time switching around the channels, he heard something. Something like the sound of fabric moving around a little. And it came from behind him. Where Eddie was.

He turned around, but Eddie wasn’t making any noise. Didn't look like he was stirring. But his face might’ve looked a little different. Like his expression had shifted, just a little bit.

Steve abandoned the unentertaining tv set, carefully sitting back down in the bedside chair,” Eddie?”

And there it was. A scrunch of Eddie’s nose and a sound that made the whole world seem brighter.

“Mmmm…”

That’s all it was. A low, grumbling hum. But it meant he was back. Eddie was back, and they didn’t lose him. Steve didn’t fail in getting him back soon enough.

Steve leaned forward,“ Hey, hey, you coming to?”

Eddie didn’t even open his eyes as he groaned,“ Was I dreaming, or were you kissing on me last night, Harrington?”

The comment pulled what Steve would call a stupid smile across his face, but he smiled all the same. He can’t be too messed up if he’s cracking jokes, right? He rolled his eyes at the other and said, in a purposely somewhat stuck-up tone,“ It’s called performing CPR, Munson, and it was not last night, for the record. But a nurse can tell you all about that, so I’ll go get-”

Eddie turned his head over and opened his eyes to look at Steve, quickly interrupting him with,“ Well, I can’t have been out too long. I see you’re still working on those whiskers, same as I last saw ‘em.”

He’d tried to motion towards Steve’s face, only to find he didn’t get very far with the cuffs. Not what a guy likes to wake up to. At least not in this condition.

“God forbid anyone tries anything around here.” Steve huffed, but sat up to pour some water from the plastic pitcher into the cup with the straw and wordlessly held it up for Eddie to take a sip,” It’s been a couple of days. Four days exactly. Four days since you tried to pull that stupid hero stunt.”

After a gulp to wet his whistle, Eddie let go of the straw and shook his head,“ Stupid hero stunt? Nah, that doesn’t sound like me. I thought we agreed on that.”

“Yeah, I thought we did. I said you and Dustin weren’t allowed to do hero shit, and then look at the mess I find not even an hour later.” Steve sat back and put down the cup.

“Oh, this? This wasn’t hero shit.” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyebrow quirked up,“ Really? It wasn't?”

“It absolutely was not. Because - I’ll remind you - you said, and I quote, ‘Don’t be cute or play hero.' And I agreed not to be a hero. So all this…?”

Steve let a small laugh slip out before he figured,“ This was you being cute, you mean?”

Eddie thought for a second that he’d like to pull a lock of hair in front of his face to play coy. Maybe rattle off some kind of teasing response like “You tell me” or “Did it work?” But the chains pinning his hands to the bedrail insisted he went for a different tactic.

So, instead, he settled for a wolfish grin and a more confident kind of remark,“ Hell yeah, this was me being cute, man.”

Steve shook his head in a way that vaguely reminded Eddie of when Wayne caught him trying to quietly strum his guitar past 3 am back in middle school. Wayne gently scorned him, told him it was a school night and the boy needed to get some sleep. Then he took the instrument and put it on top of the cabinets in the kitchen so he couldn’t reach it. But he hadn’t been mad. It was a kind of amused, faux-disappointment.

Anyway, it’s what Steve looked like as he said,“ It was still stupid. You tried to leave a little early there, you know.”

Eddie shrugged and shifted a little in the bed,“ Wasn’t really trying to. Just thought the light at the end of the tunnel looked pretty nice ‘n all.”

“Yeah, well maybe ignore it a little longer next time. I had kids sobbing all around me because you decided to stop breathing on the way here.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. You think they’ll forgive me for it?” he looked over at Steve with pleading eyes.

“They will when they see you talking again.” Steve started to stand up,” So, I should go get a nur-”

But then Eddie interrupted him again, and pretty sharply too,“ Where are those gremlins at anyway? Can’t believe Steve Harrington is the one bothering to come by this sick guy’s bed.”

Steve got quiet and relaxed back down in the chair.

“Max got hurt real bad, she’s in another room. Hasn’t woken up yet. The kids are with their families trying to figure stuff out. Plan the next move. Hawkins was hit with a lot, so it’s a bit of a shit show all over town. And we’re the crack team here to clean it up.”

“Jesus, what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked,” When the world started shaking, and everything went red while the ground split open?”

“Okay, that rings a bell. But, to be fair, I was bleeding out, man. Shit’s still a little bit fuzzy.” Eddie explained.

Steve nodded knowingly and said,“ Which is why I keep trying to tell you that I should go get a nurse-”

“Do you have to?” Eddie cut in suddenly. And there was something behind the way he said it. Steve couldn’t exactly pin it down, but he didn’t just seem inconvenienced or disinterested.

“They kinda need to look you over. Make sure there isn’t anything else wrong with you, besides the loose screws.”

Eddie turned away a little, and got quieter,“ The second you tell them I’m up… it’s going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?”

And Steve didn’t have an answer.

“It’s going to get crazy, and everything’s going to happen so fast, and it’s… gonna be scary, man...”

That’s what it was. Eddie looked scared. Steve could see it now. It wasn’t like when Eddie was ranting and raving when he’d been freaked out before. This Eddie looked small.

“And once it starts, it’s not going to stop, so just - I don’t know - keep wasting my time and tell me what’s going on before they lock me in a cell and throw away the key,” Eddie asked him.

Steve tried to assure him,“ They aren’t going to-”

Eddie locked his eyes with Steve again,“ Please? Let me have just a little bit longer?”

And Steve just couldn’t say no. Seemed to feel that way a lot those days. Maybe he spends too much time with people whose lives suck so bad he just wants to give them whatever they want.

“A few more minutes. But then an actual, medical professional needs to make sure you won’t croak on us.”

“Deal.”

Steve leaned back in the chair and started,“ Well, the Upside Down was trying to get into this side. In Hawkins, the ground split open and both sides were connected for a bit. The gate cut this huge “X” across the city which was recorded as a huge earthquake. Like record-breaking magnitude getting reported on every news station kind of huge. I mean- City Hall’s gone, the General Hospital took damage, Library is about half rubble right now. Some of the trailers were completely destroyed, including half of yours, and a line was cut through some of the suburbs, not sure how many of those houses came apart, a few of the businesses downtown were demolished, and the others are all closed down anyway… And today’s Monday, by the way, but they’ve got the high school set up as the relief center right now, so there are no classes you’re missing or anything. Like I said, shit show. Everywhere.”

“Sounds like there are a dozen other things you could be doing if you wanted to then. Like resting up yourself. So what’re you doing here? Didn’t think my display, as incredibly cute as it was, woulda been enough to turn your head.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just a lot quieter here than at my place.” Steve found himself brushing off the fact that he, in fact, had been pretty worried about Eddie the entire time.

“What does that mean?”

Moving right along, he scratched the back of his neck and admitted,“ Uh, it’s a little packed back there right now.”

“Why would your family come to Hawkins now for a reunion?” Eddie assumed.

“Oh, no. Not my family. My folks are over in Washington right now.” And after he said it, he realized he’d just set himself up to explain a little bit more about his family life than he had originally planned to tell someone he just met officially less than two weeks before.

“Washington?” Eddie asked.

And yup, they were going to have this conversation it seemed. Hopefully, Steve can make him lose interest quickly enough,“ Work. Work for my dad, at least. Mom’s just with him to make sure he stays in line.”

And Eddie just looked at him all confused.

“Stays faithful,” Steve hinted.

“Oh. So who is in your house right now?”

“Some of the Byers. Jonathan, Will, and El. And a new guy, Argyle. They all showed up a few days ago. And then we got a shipment of homeless adults in last night too. Joyce and Hop and Murray - speaking of it, turns out Hop is way less dead than we thought. And all the kids crashed there, too. Our party loves sleepovers, it seems…” Steve was lovingly shaking his head when he noticed Eddie’s wide eyes on him,“ What? Those people help save the world all the time. I wasn’t going to just let them sleep on those stiff cots in the high school. It’s a four-bedroom house, might as well put them all to use.”

“And you’re sure the Harrington’s are fine with the fact that their son is passing out their keys like candy on Halloween?” Eddie asked doubtfully.

Steve thought to himself for a moment and admitted a truth he had been trying not to think too much about over the last few weeks,“ I don’t think they’re really planning to come back to Hawkins after all this.”

“Really? Just a couple days and you’re already so sure they’re done with this place...”

“Well, it’s been…” he hummed to himself, putting on an act like he had to actually think about it. Like his mind doesn’t tally every morning he wakes up and his mom and dad are still gone. Like he doesn’t already know he hasn’t seen them for over,” Three months? Yeah, I guess that sounds about right.”

He’d tried to make it seem like some casual thing, hoped he did a better job than he had in front of Joyce the night before, but Eddie didn’t take it as something small,” Three months?”

“Yeah, my dad’s a busy guy, and I’m not a baby anymore. Once I graduated they wasted decidedly less time in Indiana.”

“The town their kid lives in has a serial killer, faces the biggest earthquake the Midwest probably has ever seen, and they don’t come home to check in?” Eddie pushed. While his parents were out of the picture, he couldn’t even imagine Wayne letting him go even a week without seeing him, even if he’d graduated.

“You give Mr. and Mrs. Harrington too much credit.”

“Damn. So you’re fucked up just like the rest of us, huh?”

“The stars; they’re just like you and me.” he ended the line with a wink.

“Jesus. And, not to be self-centered and all about me or anything, but… how is the town with the whole…?”

“The whole… suspecting you of serial murder thing?” Steve finished for him.

“Yeah, that’s the one. How are they doing with that?”

“Well, most people probably still think you did it. But, uh, we’re working on it. Well, Nance and Robin are leading the thing mostly. It’s looking up, believe it or not. They have some strategy, and the cops seemed like they were leaning our way after we gave our statements. They’ll need to take yours, too. But I think we’ll get out of this.” he explained,” But if some guys with a camera crew try to talk to you, call a nurse and get them kicked out. They’ve been crowding the front doors and trying to get into your hospital room for the last few days, apparently.”

“Camera crew?” he wondered, interest piquing.

“A news team from Indianapolis has been trying to do a feature on the ‘Satanic killings that opened a portal to hell in the super cursed small-town’. And a few other fringe groups are looking to stake their big break on your sudden fame too.”

“So…” Eddie considered,” You’re saying this is my chance to shoot to stardom? Quick, I need you to bring my sweetheart, an amp, and a mic. Help me land my career in the big leagues, Harrington.”

Steve stood up and placed a hand on Eddie’s cuffed wrist with a tight smile,“ I absolutely will not.”

Eddie scoffed and tossed his head over at the betrayal.

He let go and started heading for the door as he continued,“ I will, however, make sure a nurse comes in to look you over. I’ll also radio the kids and let them know you’re up. You’re in for a storm of love, you know? Gonna get bruises from all the hugs, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Eddie called to him as he went into the hall.

And maybe Steve did originally intend to do the responsible thing and get a nurse immediately. But then he thought about Lucas. Someone who was right there already and deserved to see Eddie as soon as possible. So he just walked into the other room instead.

“Hey Lucas, you wanna take a break?” he offered, hanging off the door frame for a second as he stepped inside.

“I don’t need a break from Max. And we said noon, it’s not even eleven o’clock yet.”

“You might not need it,” Steve agreed,” But there’s something across the hall you might want to see.”

Steve thought to himself that part of the reason he wanted Lucas to see Eddie, wasn’t even for Eddie’s sake. It was for Lucas’s. Because he needed to see someone come out of a coma before he convinced himself that Max never would. Steve needed to foster a little bit of hope wherever he could with these kids.

“What?” Lucas questioned.

And instead of dancing around the good news any longer, Steve let the smile break across his face as he told him,“ Eddie’s awake.”

And Lucas all but shot up out of his chair,“ He is?”

“Yeah, he is. I’ll radio everyone else and let ‘em know, but since you’re already here, you can stop by if you want. As long as you call a nurse over after you two have a minute to catch up.” Steve made him agree to do it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas took a few steps toward him until he froze and looked back at Max,” Will you…?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on Mayfield.” Steve closed the distance between them and clapped Lucas on the shoulder,” Go ahead and try talking to someone who’ll answer for a bit.”

And so they switched places.

Steve sat down in the chair Lucas had been in and picked up the book he set on Max’s sheets. He thought about maybe picking up where the kid left off, but set it back down and decided that wasn’t his thing. His thing seemed to be waxing on emotionally to sleeping people. So he crossed his legs and set himself to try and convince Max to pull through. Even though they figured she wouldn’t until Vecna was dealt with, he still wanted to try a little pep talk.

“Come on, Maxie. You’re the last one now. Can’t believe you let Munson beat you. Would’ve bet good money you were a way faster little punk than he was. So… hurry up, alright. I’ve been told you’re supposed to go to a movie on Friday. Might be patching things up with a certain ex-boyfriend you shoulda never ended things with. I don’t know what Friday you’ll be aiming for at this point. But there’s some cool stuff out right now, if you wait too long there might only be boring stuff screening. And we can’t let you and Lucas get back together with a boring movie. I really would like to see you two happy together, you know? So you need a good one. Make this old man proud and snag him up before some other girl tries to steal him. But you gotta wake up to do that… so, I don’t know, sucker punch Vecna or something and break out of this already. I think you can take him down. Way tougher than anyone else I know. Don't keep me waiting. We need you back.”

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧠Fake Amnesia

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fan!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: There was a saying that if you knew a celebrity existed, your chances of meeting them out and about decreased significantly. Is it true? No clue. But, you weren't about to let that stop you from finding Lando Norris in Imola.

*I am so so sorry for the very late and delayed chapter. I hope you all like it! I switched out this one to write it before the next as "Love Triangle" was supposed to come out first, but we've had a lot of Lestappen for now! But here we go!"

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Were you a bit stupid? 

Yes. Yes you were. Did you more money than your budget allowed just to get to Imola a few days early to possibly not even find Lando? You didn’t want to talk about it. 

But right now as you perused through the local shopping area, you didn’t take the time to really dwell on your past choices. Only finding Lando could save you now. Which that seemed like a faraway dream. 

Whatever that one reddit post said about having a higher chance of meeting a celebrity if you didn’t know them was absolute bullshit. You couldn’t go back in time to stop yourself from liking a thirst trap of Lando on TikTok. And now because of that, your chances of meeting the British driver seriously decreased. 

How on earth were you supposed to find one of the most popular men alive, on a race weekend, where everyone was already looking to spot the driver in a more relaxed setting? You had no clue. But the shopping center felt like a good idea. 

You had been drawn in by one of the jewelry sections, eyes glazing over the number of zeros that followed every first number. Your heart winced at the thought of even buying one. To be honest, you didn’t even know how you got into this mall in the first place. Everyone around you was dressed in the highest European fashion. 

Your outfit wasn’t terrible per say, but it didn’t reflect the Italian area either. You were wearing some cream baggy linen pants that matched the light orange top that you had thrown on after scrambling to find a shirt. You didn’t really know exactly what shirt you were wearing, except that it was comfortable and went well with the pants. The giant number 4 on the back went completely unnoticed. Sandals adorned your feet and sunglass sat as though a crown on your head. Your cross-body bag dangled a bit against your side. 

You had just cringed once again at a price tag when your eyes landed on some brown curly hair. Your eyes followed the coils down to the face and you wanted to scream (but held it in because you were not about to get kicked out). 

There was no way that Lando Norris was standing about 10 feet away from you. 

There was no way. 

Except your hands automatically opened your phone and the twitter app popped up. You were too busy looking down at your phone, fingers moving at the speed of light, to notice that some hazel eyes had landed on your figure. 

Lando, on the other hand, wanted to sigh. Could he go one day without having to get stopped by fans? The giant 4 on your shirt seemed to mock him. Internally, he was wishing that the girl was a Max or Charles fan. 

But, he was going to be the bigger person and approach the nice looking girl before she could bring more attention to him. He decreased the space between them and tapped her shoulder, getting her attention. 

You were not expecting a tap on the shoulder. And you were definitely not expecting that tap to come from Lando Norris’s finger. 

“Can I sign something for you?” he asked. The sound of his voice must have put some type of spell on you since you felt as though you couldn’t speak. 

Lando huffed. “Please? I don’t need other people finding out that I’m here and then I’ll have to leave.” 

You blinked twice at him before you finally found your voice. “I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” 

Stupid reddit post. 

The McLaren driver wanted to smack himself. Were you a fan? Or maybe you were wearing a papaya colored shirt that supported another person, who happened to have the same number? Or maybe if was your friend’s shirt? Or one you thrifted?

He winced. “I am so sorry. I thought. . . ” 

You shifted on your feet, brain trying to come up with an idea for what happens next. You were standing in front of thee Lando Norris. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. 

Lando watched your eyes widen and he wanted to hide. Maybe you were just shocked that it was him? 

Your eyes then squinted. “You look really familiar. Oh, I know where you’re from.” 

The Briton wanted to run and hide. This was it, you were going to start squealing, and then other people will look that way, see Lando, cause a giant crowd, and then he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the weekend. 

He was doomed. 

“You’re that actor right? From Spiderman.” 

This time, Lando blinked while staying silent. 

“No, I believe that’s Tom Holland.” 

“Oh.” 

Now it was getting awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Which, this gave you the perfect opportunity to memorize the different shades of blue, green, and brown in his eyes. You looked to the side and chewed on you bottom lip. 

Lando looked stuck. 

“I am so sorry for interrupting your shopping,” he started out. 

You waved your hands, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s fine. Wasn’t like I could buy anything here. Way too many zeros for my liking.” 

Lando giggled at that and you internally melted. 

Time to add “got Lando Norris to giggle like a schoolgirl” on your resume. 

“Yeah. Bit too posh for me as well.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit in a bit more than I do.” 

He rolled his eyes before huffing. “I’d rather spend time playing video games at my house instead.” 

Now this is what you could get behind. When you first started following Lando, gaming started to interest you. Because of him, you were able to meet a bunch of friends through gaming. Your notifications were specifically set up to let you know when Lando was streaming. 

Your eyes lit up with some excitement, which Lando thought was adorable. 

“I like to game too! It’s fun playing weird simulator games. Me and my friends tried this goat game one time and we couldn’t stop laughing.” 

This time, Lando’s eyes sparkled. 

“I’ve played goat simulator too with my friends! Charles . . .” he caught himself, not wanting to give out more names. “Uh my friends Carl, Alec, and Jord really liked it during the pandemic. And then we got Dax in on it too.” 

You wanted to absolutely start laughing, since you actually watched that stream live back in 2020. The cute names he gave to Charles, Alex, George, and Max were adorable. Your friends, although knowing you were watching the stream, had sent you the link and asked if you’d want to play the same simulator. Let’s just say, your laugh rivaled teapot-Charles. 

“They sound like fun,” you said, a warm tone in your voice that had Lando melting like chocolate under a hot summer’s sun. 

There was a bit of silence before Lando spoke up again. “Do you maybe, this sounds so weird, but there’s a game store farther down, would you want to join me?” 

There was no way in hell that you’d tell him no. 

You smiled up at him. “Sure! Lead the way! By the way, I’m Y/n.” 

Lando went to say something but stopped. You could tell he almost said his name, and you’d bet money on the name that was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I’m Bob.”

Bingo. 

You snorted. “You don’t look like a Bob. But what would I know?” 

The two of you laughed as you started walking farther into the shopping center. You exchanged laughs here and there, sharing stories about your lives with Lando being very vague about his day job. 

“I work as an Uber driver,” he had said after you confessed that you were now working as a part-time gamer and then part-time relator. The work was hard, but that job allowed you to spend your hard-earned money on fun things like: coming to Imola early to try to find Lando. 

Low-and-behold, you did. 

Spending the afternoon with him felt so comfortable, as if you had known each other your entire lives. And Lando, to his surprise, felt the same. After the gaming store, he even invited you to lunch. 

“You know you don’t have to do that,” you told him, but kept stride alongside him as he walked toward the small restaurants. 

He shrugged. “I know. But I like spending time with you.” 

A deep blush formed on your face as you kept walking. The bright red caused Lando to smirk just a bit. 

As you ate and made conversation, you suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. You quickly excused yourself and left, leaving Lando at the table along. 

He hadn’t meant to look, but your phone kept going off and his eyes just barely looked at your screen. They widened with he noticed his exact points in the season along with McLaren’s and the race schedule. And the picture of him from Miami after his first win as your lockscreen.

The Box-Box app. 

He pursed his lips for a moment, briefly feeling played. But as he sat and thought about the past few hours that he spent with you, he felt content. At any point, you could have screamed his name, asked for a picture, and ruin his shopping trip. You could have tweeted his location and hordes of people would have shown up. 

But you didn’t.  

The McLaren driver was so caught up in his head that he didn’t heard you coming. Thankfully, your screen had gone dark, still giving the effect that you “didn’t know” who he really way. 

“Everything ok Bob?” you asked as you sat back down, stealing one of his French fries from his tray. 

Lando shook his head, ridding the “betrayal” from his thoughts. 

“Just perfect. Trying to figure out who might win the Formula 1 race this weekend.” 

He wanted to smirk at you froze for just a second before leaning back just a bit, arms crossed over your chest. 

“What is that? Some type of NASCAR thing?” 

Oh, so you knew how to play. 

Luckily for Lando, so did he. 

“It’s a bit different,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. 

You were internally freaking out. 

Did he know? If he knew then he might say something. And then he’ll call his security team and get you a ban from the paddock. And you might even go to jail for stalking. Could you even go to Italian jail for that? You didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. 

However, Lando kept silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Easy conversation did flow once again when you steered it back to gaming. You had a giant smile as the two of you walked out of the shopping area. 

However, your heart dropped when you realized that the time with the Briton was coming to a quick end. Lando was feeling the same. 

You let out a sigh as you turned to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun! Like I said, you didn’t have to.” 

Lando scoffed. “Of course I did. I interrupted your shopping. It was the least I could do.” 

There was a lingering silence before you broke it. 

“I guess this is the end then Bob.” You held out a hand for him to shake, but he rolled his eyes and brought you into a hug. You parted after a bit and started to walk toward the little Fiat you had rented for the weekend. 

Lando felt torn until he realized he could definitely see you again. 

“Y/n! Wait!” 

You turned around to see Lando running up to you, phone out. 

“Can I have your number?” 

Yep, this is how you were going to die. Y/n L/n found dead in a parking lot after Lando Norris asked for her number. What an amazing way to go out in the end. 

You didn’t say anything, but quickly opened your phone and handed it to him, new contact ready to be filled out. The driver was smirking to himself as he filled out his information. He handed your phone back to you, only to lean down and kiss your cheek.

The familiar bright red once again filled them in as he leaned back. 

“I had a lot of fun today. Maybe I’ll see you soon?” he quietly said as he started to walk away. 

“Maybe,” you said back, biting your bottom lip after. 

Lando swore that if the two of you weren’t in the parking lot, he’d bite it for you. 

When he was a bit away, he turned back and waved at you, happy to see that you were still staring at him. But who wouldn’t stare at Lando Norris though. Definitely not you, you could stare all day long if you could. 

“Bye Y/n!”

“Bye Lando!” 

Your hands clapped over your mouth as you watched him lean back in a full laugh. You even had him hunching over in a fit of giggles. You still watched as his shoulders shake as he got into what looked to be an Uber. 

Your phone buzzed, causing you to look down at it. There was an email and a text message. One from McLaren and one from “Lando 🧡” 

“Maybe next time I can sign your shirt. I think it’s cute that you follow my points :)”

You turned around quickly, trying to see the back of your shirt in the reflection of your rental car. There it was, in all it’s glory. 

The giant-ass “4.” 

“Shit.” 

y/n_l/n has posted

y/n_y/n kinda confused about 20 guys driving around in circles. someone know what this is called?

also ran into this really cute guy. says he drives for a living. didn't know uber drivers could be hot

liked by friend1, bestie, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 3,204 others

friend1 ayo is that the guy that you will not shut up about?

landonorris awww you don't shut up about me??

y/n_l/n STOP EXPOSING ME

bestie ok I see the appeal, can you ask someone for that brunet in the red's number??

maxverstappen1 🤺🤺🤺

y/n_l/n i think he's taken

charles_leclerc I am??

maxverstappen1 ☹️

charles_leclerc I AM TAKEN

friend2 so luckyyyyyyy

friend4 glad you had fun!

oscarpiastri I think it's called Formula 1

y/n_l/n finally someone who knows something @.landonorris you've been replaced

landonorris osc, we've talked about this

fan1 what the heck is going on

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Summary: It's time to move on. You're not sure where you're going exactly, but anywhere is better than Texas

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,816 words

Warnings: ANGST, injuries, medical stuff, descriptions of pain and injuries, brief discussion about strangulation, mentions of PTSD and nightmares, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, a very little sprinkle of comfort, language, mentions of medications, still very heavy emotionally

A/N: Not actually a lot of warnings for this one. It's a lot of dialogue and inner monologues. Not a lot happens, just mostly setting the scene for the next chunk of the story. Bring tissues though, the last part of the chapter emotionally wrecked me but also might be the best thing I've ever written.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

It’s warm outside. 

Not even the shade from the building can completely shield you from the dome of heat that seems to surround the base. It seeps into the concrete and asphalt that lock it into place, trapping everyone in a bubble that may as well be an oven. It’s always hot in Texas, though. You hate it. You’ve been spoiled by the cold, rainy seasons in England. You’d gladly take that over Texas. 

You’d take anything over Texas. 

The heat prickles at your skin, your arm starting to get sweaty in the sling. It had been Dr. Keller’s idea to keep your shoulder as still as possible so you don’t continue to cause yourself pain when you move. It still hurts, but at least you won’t instinctively try to use your left arm now.

Despite the warmth, there’s still a chill deep in your bones. The warmth of the pain medicine has worn off and you’ve been left with the perpetual ice that has seemed to coat your insides. Dr. Keller says it's the stress giving you a fever. Every nightmare, every flashback sends your body temperature spiking, your heart beating right out of your chest. You’re not out of the woods yet. It can take a long time to recover from that level of distress and the omega taking over. You almost regret it, but there was no guarantee you would have lived either way at that time. You did what you had to do, and it did work out in the end. 

But at what cost? 

Dr. Keller’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, staring down at the screen for a moment. “Kyle wants to come by.” 

You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see any of them. 

“I think you should see him. Even if it’s just for a moment.” She squeezes your hand. “I’ll be right here.” 

It’s a predicament. Dr. Keller supports your decision to keep them away, putting some distance between all of you for the time being. Yet, she also says being close to your pack will help your healing. Having your pack around will help your omega settle once again. She needs that safety, that security before she finally lets go completely. 

You don’t want to be close to them, but you may not have any other choice. 

You sit there in silence, picking at the fabric of your sweatpants as you wait for Kyle’s arrival. Sweat has started to bead on your back, the day only getting warmer and warmer as the sun moves higher in the sky. You want to go back inside, back into the cool air conditioned building. You want to crawl back onto the hospital bed and lay there for the next few hours. 

You can’t. 

Footsteps approach, but you don’t look up. You know who it is. You don’t want to see him. 

“Kyle.” Dr. Keller greets. 

“Christine.” He says back. It still throws you off, hearing Dr. Keller's first name. She'll always be Dr. Keller to you. Kyle turns his attention to you, still standing a few steps from the bench you're perched on. “Hi, love.” He says. The affectionate nickname almost makes you wince. You don't look up at him. You don’t want to see his face. “I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” 

You don't move, don't give an answer. You don't have an answer to give anyway. You shouldn't have to give an answer. 

He lowers himself onto the bench, sitting as far away from you as he can. “It’s hot today.” He says, adjusting his hat. Always wearing a hat. Maybe that's why he and Price work so well together. 

He stares at you for a long moment but you don't bother moving, your gaze still on your sweatpants. They're starting to get a bit warm, even with your perpetual chill. 

“I’m not here to apologize.” He says, breaking the silence. “You’ve probably heard enough apologies to last you a lifetime.” He shakes his head. “Words can’t fix what we did. Nothing can fix what we did, how we left you there. All we can do is give you what you need, try and make you as comfortable as possible.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you listen to him. He's not wrong, an apology won't fix what happened. No words will ever be able to fix what they put you through. You're not sure there's anything they could do that would make up for it. An apology still would have been nice, despite the fact you know how guilty he is. Their avoidance of you, their willingness to give you such space in an unknown place just proves how guilty they all are. 

That doesn't make things hurt any less. 

You slowly turn away from Kyle, angling yourself towards Dr. Keller. 

He doesn't say anything further in that regard, taking your movement as an answer to his non-apology. He leans forward instead, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to leave soon. We’ll be heading somewhere safe, somewhere quiet and secluded. I think you’ll like it.” 

Dr. Keller had informed you of that earlier after she went to speak to them. They've decided what to do, what's best for the pack again. You might have protested, except for the fact it meant you were getting to leave Texas. Where exactly they're taking you, you're not sure. You just know it's not Texas. 

“I want you to know that we’re here if you need us.” He stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself up to stand. 

If, not when. 

Maybe they're finally getting the message. 

Dr. Keller stands, touching your right shoulder gently before she steps away with Kyle, speaking quietly with him, but you can still hear every word in the nearly silent space around you. 

“In an attempt to remain a neutral, professional party in this situation, I feel it would be appropriate for me to tell you not to beat yourself up too much about this.” Dr. Keller says. “The unprofessional side of me has many words I’d like to say to all of you.” She clears her throat. “That being said, on a positive note I can say you’re all doing the right thing for once, prioritizing your omega and fulfilling her needs, even if her needs require you to leave her alone for now. I know it’s hard, I know every instinct is screaming at you to help her, but just take comfort in knowing you are helping her. You’re doing the best thing you can do for her at this time.” Dr. Keller puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “Even if it is tearing you up inside.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” He says. 

“I’ll see you soon.” She says, patting his arm before she heads back towards your bench. 

You turn your head just slightly, not missing the way Gaz lingers for a brief moment before he turns his back on you, walking back down the sidewalk. 

It hurts. 

You want to cry with every swallow. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t ease the pain of trying to swallow solid food. Even the worst sore throat you’ve ever had pales in comparison to this pain. Tears burn in your eyes as you eat, unable to refuse this time in favor of choking down some liquid nutrients. Even liquids make your throat ache, but they are easy to chug to get it over with at once. 

This feels like torture. 

Dr. Keller looks guilty as she spoon-feeds you the soup. Chicken noodle, something simple and easy but still something with some substance. It makes you think back to when you were sick as a child, your mother dutifully feeding you homemade chicken noodle soup until you reached the age you could feed yourself. 

You do feel like a child again, unable to even hold the spoon. Well, you could hold it, but it would have come at the expense of some burns from how badly your hand was shaking. 

So instead you sit here, being spoon-fed soup you can barely stand eating. 

“I know.” She says as a tear finally falls, your inhale shaky from the ache in your throat. “You need something in your system for the sedative. It’s a long flight and you’ll be sick when you wake up if you don’t have anything in your stomach. That’s going to hurt a lot worse than eating now.” 

Yeah. You’ve already figured that out. 

“Strangulation is a tough thing to survive.” She says, dragging the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the bowl to wipe off any soup that might drip on you. “Then again, so is getting shot, and distressing to the point of your omega taking over.” She holds the spoon up to your lips, and you’re tempted to refuse. “You’ve survived a lot, more than most could. And to look this good after...” 

You blink up at her, teary eyed and sickly looking, exhausted and bruised. Your left eye is still almost swollen shut, and your hair is tangled perhaps beyond saving, tied up in a bun at the top of your head. All just reminders of what you survived, all reminders of what happened to you. Of what was allowed to happen to you. 

You’re not quite sure when the last time you had a real shower was either. 

“I know.” She says, spooning more soup into your mouth. “You might not feel like it, right now.” 

“I want a shower.” You say, your voice still hoarse and cracking through your throat. A real shower might solve a lot of problems for you right now. It won’t fix much, but being truly clean would make a lot of things feel better. 

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Dr. Keller says. 

You give her a look. You don't smell that bad. She should know, she’s the one that cleaned the blood off of you and the one who gave you the sponge bath this morning. 

She gives you a look back. “I meant it would be nice to take a real shower. Once we get where we’re going, we can work on the logistics of a shower.” 

Right. You can’t exactly stand for a long time on your own, not to mention the problem of only being able to use one arm without bringing blinding pain upon yourself. That’s where the pack would come in handy. 

The thought of one of them seeing you vulnerable like that, putting their hands on you right now makes your skin crawl. 

A shiver runs down your spine, your body shuddering uncontrollably. You grunt as your shoulder screams in pain, another electric jolt burning straight through your nerves and down through your feet. Fuck. You mouth the word, squeezing your eyes shut. It makes your stomach churn, the soup starting to burn a path back up through your esophagus.

“Breathe for me.” Dr. Keller says, putting a gentle hand on your right shoulder. 

In and out. You focus on your breath, the only thing you can do without feeling like you’re going to go insane from the pain. It’s all you can do in this situation. It’s the only thing you can do at all. Breathe. Just keep breathing. 

Sometimes you don’t want to. 

The pain passes as it always does, leaving behind a subtle ache that will linger until the next flare of pain. It’s a constant, never-ending cycle that you can’t escape from. Weeks, Dr. Keller had said. It can take weeks to heal. You’ll be stuck in this cycle for weeks and weeks. What if it never heals? That is a possibility. It’s always a risk with any injury. 

What if the rest of your life is like this? 

You’re crying again, hot tears blazing a path down your cheeks. They won’t stop, they never stop. There’s a constant stream down your face, even in your sleep. You’ve woken to find your face and neck damp from the never ceasing flood of tears. 

How you can’t wait for the time to come when you have none left.

You’d welcome the numbness at this point, greet it like an old friend and invite it in for tea. Anything over the pain and tears that won’t stop. The depression-fueled numbness that had filled you when Price and Gaz left, then Soap and Ghost would be a welcome relief at this point. Anything would be better than the pain. 

You almost wish you were in a coma right now. Then you wouldn’t feel anything at all. 

Dr. Keller puts the spoon back into the soup bowl before rolling the table to the side. She puts a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair as you cry. The room is silent aside from your sniffles, Dr. Keller not having to say a single word. The silence is almost a blessing. You’re tired of hearing words, of hearing people speak. There’s nothing anyone can say that will do anything to help you, to comfort you, to make it better. 

There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. 

You’re so tired of being like this. 

The sedative is kicking in before you even reach the airfield. She can see the way your head is drooping further and further forward in the car, your body jostling without any complaint. It had started kicking in before you even got into the car, as you offered very little resistance when Kyle helped her mauver you into the front seat. She chose Kyle out of everyone to help her in hopes it would be easiest on you. Your claimed alpha’s beta is a good place to start in rebuilding the bonds within the pack, and his calm demeanor certainly helps. He is a caretaker through and through, that beta trait prominent above the others in him. He would have made a good medic, had he gone that route. 

Your chin drops to your chest as the car comes to a stop in front of the plane, your body slumping to the side against the door. 

“She’s out.” Christine says, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Makes this easier.” Kyle says, getting out of the car. 

They maneuver you into the wheelchair, Christine easing your head onto your right shoulder to avoid aggravating the left. The less pain you’re in when you come out of it, the better, though pain will be unavoidable. Kyle pushes the wheelchair up the ramp of the plane, Christine following close behind. She’s glad she gave you the sedative before you left the med center to avoid as much pain as possible. She almost wishes she had given it to you earlier, as getting you into a sweatshirt had been a battle of its own. Though, the longer it stays in your system, the longer you’ll sleep through the flight. The longer you sleep through the flight, the longer they can delay the inevitable emotional storm of being enclosed in a tight space with your pack. 

If you’re lucky, you’ll be out of it long enough for them to reach the cottage without incident. 

John is waiting near the front of the aircraft, his eyes watching carefully as Kyle helps maneuver you into a seat. Even with the turmoil in the pack bonds, an alpha will always feel protective over their omega. There’s some things that can’t be undone, even in such a fragile state. Some instincts can’t be unlearned, no matter what. 

“I gave her a sedative.” Christine explains as she gets you as comfortable as possible in the seat. “It won’t last the whole flight, but it’ll take a while to wear off regardless.” 

“Is that more for her or for us?” John asks. 

“Both.” Christine says. “Mostly for her. It helps with the pain of moving around, but it will also keep her calm in close quarters like this.” 

“Here.” John says, handing her something. It’s a blanket, brand new by the feel of it. “Johnny made a store run this morning. It’s going to get cold in here, so he got the warmest one he could find.” 

Christine takes the blanket, the fabric thick and soft in her hands. It’s a touching gesture, speaking volumes of their desire to still care for you despite everything, their willingness to do what they have to, to keep the pack together. “Perfect.” She says, carefully draping it over you and tucking it around you before John gets you secured in the seat. 

“It’s going to be a long flight.” John says, taking a step back. 

“It is.” Christine says, pulling out her thermometer. She takes your temperature, letting out a hum at the number that pops up on screen. “I need to monitor her temperature.” She explains as John gives her a look. “It’s been spiking when she gets stressed.” 

“She's not quite out of it yet, is she?” John asks.

“Not quite.” She says, putting the thermometer back in her bag. “I’ve only seen two omegas successfully come back from that point, and I know the number across the board isn’t very high. It takes a long time for the body and the brain to get back to normal.” 

“And on top of everything that happened...” 

She stares up at him for a long moment. “She’s very strong. I knew she was a fighter, but to come out the other side even where she is now...” Christine shakes her head. “I didn’t want to say this at the time, but I was expecting the worst. When that call came in about what state she was in...” She bites her lip, holding the emotions back. “Her resilience and fortitude is what kept her alive. That and Simon’s courage to do what needed to be done.” 

“I know.” John says, looking past her. “We all owe a lot to him.” 

Christine puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re doing what’s best for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it goes against every instinct you have, it’s what she needs.” 

“That’s all that matters to us right now.” John says, staring down at her hand for a moment. “There’s nothing else we can do, so it’s time we start putting our priorities where they should have been the whole time.” 

Christine gives him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for that. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you’ve been told since the beginning.” 

The corner of John’s lips twitch before his face falls into the emotionless mask he’s been wearing for the last few days. “It’s about time we get our heads out of our arses.” 

“I can’t blame you totally.” She shrugs. “We were all just doing what the initiative was telling us to do. We couldn’t have known. There wasn’t any room to question it.” 

“I wish we would have figured it out sooner.” He sighs. 

“Things might have been worse if the truth did come out sooner. If you started digging into the initiative too soon, Shepherd might have gotten antsy and taken more drastic measures to stop the truth from coming out entirely.” She glances down at you. “I think this was all inevitable.” She turns her gaze back to John. “What happened, happened. None of us can change that. All we can do is keep moving forward with what we have right now.” 

He stares at her for a long moment. “The more time passes, the more I’ve come to realize why Kate chose you for this position.” 

The corner of her lips turns up in a smile. “Well, I am rather good at my job, which, among other things, involves advocating on behalf of omegas.” 

John huffs. “Wish we would have listened sooner.” 

“You can’t change the past.” She repeats, looking down at you again. “But you can change the future.” 

You woke from your sedation about four hours from Helston. 

Well, ’woke’ might have been too strong of a word for it. Your eyes opened, but you were still hazy, movements sluggish and entirely unaware of the world around you. You floated between sleep and awareness for an hour before finally gaining consciousness completely. Awareness took quite a while to return, though. Not until they were moving you to the car from the plane. 

Even still you’re groggy, slumped against the door in the back seat of the car. You blink slowly, eyes unfocused as you stare out the window at the blur of green passing by. 

“How is she?” John asks from the driver's seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 

“Cow.” You say, blinking slowly as the car passes a field of cows. 

“Still out of it.” Christine answers from the back seat where she's sitting next to you. Your response might have been enough to answer that. “Better than being in pain, though.” 

“How long will it take for her to get out of it?” Kyle asks. 

“Hopefully she’ll be more lucid by the time we get there, but it could take a few hours for it to completely wear off.” Christine says, wiping a bit of drool from your chin. “Probably not a bad thing. This is a big change, and with everything that’s happened, it’s going to take some time to settle in.” 

“Things are going to be rough.” Kyle says. 

“Yes.” She agrees. “Being enclosed in a small space with the people you want to see the least in the world isn’t an ideal situation. It’ll be an adjustment for everyone. I trust all of your abilities to adapt, though. Just don't go in expecting things to be the way they were.”

John's hands tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. Kyle cracks his window open, prepared for the thickening of John's scent in the air. Christine knows she hit a nerve, but it needed to be said. Even if you were open to forgiveness right now, even if they had chosen to go after you right away, things still wouldn't be the same. Things won't ever be the same. It is their fault deep at the root of it. Those cameras were put up because of them, you were taken because of them. You were chosen for the “initiative” because of them, because Kate thought you'd fit in well with them. Their decisions shaped your life, and will continue to shape your life. 

Can you ever come to forgive them? Christine likes to think so. She has the hope that they can put in the work and regain your trust and earn eventual forgiveness. She knows you'll allow them to try once the initial hurt and emotions begin to fade, once the two of you put in enough work to start processing the trauma around the events that happened. It will take time. Probably a long time. 

She'll be there every step of the way. 

“Ashley did some shopping for us, picked up some stuff to get us until we can get into town.” Kyle says, looking at his phone. 

“Good.” John says, his shoulders starting to relax. “Should wait a couple days before going. Get settled in.”

“She's still working on cleaning up. Probably still be there when we get there.” Kyle says, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“That's fine. We’ll probably have to utilize her a bit.” 

“Doubt she'll complain.” Kyle says, looking out the window. “Be thrilled to have something to do besides work.” 

You let out a quiet groan, shifting against the door. “Hurts.” 

“I know, honey.” Christine says, carefully adjusting your left arm. “I’ll give you more pain meds once we get to the cottage.” 

“We’ll be there in half an hour.” John says, glancing up at the rearview mirror again before turning his eyes back to the road. 

The half hour seems to take the longest as you continue to become more and more lucid and aware. The pain sets in first, your brain picking up on those signals before anything else. John’s knuckles are white around the steering wheel as you begin to whine and whimper around every bend in the road and turn he has to make, every jostle of the car. Every instinct in his body tells him to pull over and comfort you, but he can’t. It’s more important to get to the cottage, and there’s no guarantee you’d even let him. It might make things worse. 

The last thing you need right now is for things to get worse. 

Christine breathes a sigh of relief as they pull up to the cottage, glad she can finally get you somewhere more comfortable. You’ve been in far too many uncomfortable positions today, moved around too much. She would have liked to keep you in Texas a couple more days, but she knew as soon as you were able to travel, the better. The sooner they could get off the grid, the better. 

The sooner they could get out of Texas, the better. 

Kyle is getting the wheelchair out of the trunk when Johnny and Simon pull up, not having been far behind. They likely took a turn around the back roads to ensure no one was following and to keep things from looking too suspicious. 

Christine keeps you from slumping out of the car as she carefully opens the door on your side. You’re more awake than you were, blinking up at her with almost startlingly aware eyes.

“Crutch.” You pout when she pulls the wheelchair closer. 

She gives you a look. “Honey I'm not sure you could even stand right now.” You may be more aware, but that doesn’t mean your body is working as it should.

You let out a defiant noise as you attempt to get your legs out of the car, trying to hide your grunts of pain and discomfort. 

She's tempted to stand there and let you try, but she knows all hell will break loose if she lets you fall. She's not willing to take that risk, not to mention it will cause you more pain to get you up off the ground. 

“Come on,” She says, stopping you before you can get your feet under you. “Nice and slow.” 

You let out a quiet growl of indignation but you allow her to help you, your legs trembling as she eases you up. Kyle is there with the wheelchair, getting it as close to you as possible so she can sit you down quickly. 

“Ow.” You breathe, eyes pinched closed as you breathe through the pain. 

“I know.” She says, patting your good shoulder lightly. She's glad she put you in the sweatshirt before you left Texas. It's chilly outside, chillier than it was further inland a few days ago. 

It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since you were taken. Barely even a week. So much happened in such a short period of time. It feels like it’s been weeks since everything started, but then again, it had been weeks since John and Kyle first left. It had been weeks since you had been around your whole pack together by the time you were taken. The deep depression you sunk into before the events of the last week had been draining you slowly for weeks before this. It had started before John and Kyle were deployed, back to that day when you revealed the cameras and the secret you had been hiding from them. 

How long you’ve gone in such turmoil. 

How far you still have to go. 

The path up to the door is rocky and uneven, the wheelchair jostling as she pushes it up towards the door. She can picture your face, the way it has to be screwed up in pain. You're silent though, holding it all in. She almost wishes you weren't being silent about it. 

The door is already open, light shining from inside as she approaches. Kyle is in the house already, having gone ahead to greet his sister. John is right behind the two of you as Christine turns to wheel you up the steps into the house. His eyes are on you, focused and ready should you fall.  

Christine would never let you fall, and from the way your hand is gripping the arm of the chair for dear life, you probably couldn't anyway. 

She wheels you through the entryway, the inside warmer thanks to a fire that's burning. It's a nice cottage, far nicer than she had been expecting judging from the outside. 

Johnny lets out a low whistle as he enters behind John, looking around. “Yer parents own this?” 

“It was given to our mum by our grandparents. They did some...renovations before they passed it on.” Kyle says. 

“Yer tellin’ me.” Johnny says. 

It looks new inside. New wood floors, freshly painted walls. The furniture looks like she would expect to find in an English seaside cottage, though. Kyle’s parents went to France for summer vacation instead of utilizing the cottage, and none of his siblings had wanted to use it, he told them. It looks almost perfect, like it came right out of a home renovation show. Kyle’s sister must have worked some sort of magic to get it this clean. 

It is a very nice cottage. It’s small, the door opening right to the main area. There’s two couches and a chair in the middle of the room around a coffee table. To the left of the couches is a fireplace, the fire already lit and crackling. It looks original, likely having been untouched in the renovations. There’s a door to the left of the fireplace closer to the main entryway. A bedroom maybe? To the right of the front door are two doors, one on the far wall and one facing the front door. 

The stairs are in the middle of the house, leading up to the second floor where there’s likely more bedrooms. On the far side of the main area is the dining area and beyond that is a sliding glass door. Around the corner on the far side of the stairs is likely the kitchen. She can see the fridge from where she’s standing. It’s new. Very new. Makes her wonder just how long ago it had been renovated. 

“Everyone, this is my sister Ashley.” Kyle says, introducing the other woman in the room. 

“Hello,” she says, giving everyone a wave and a dazzling smile. 

She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, her medium box braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. They look a lot alike, her and Kyle. Tall and slender and stunning. They have the same smile and the same soft brown eyes. She's wearing scent blockers, but Christine can imagine her having a soft scent like lavender or something fresh like mint. 

“There's two rooms down here, and two upstairs.” Kyle says. “The main bedroom is through there.” He points towards a door to their left. “I figure we'll give that to our omega. The bathroom in there has a walk-in shower.” 

“Perfect.” Christine says. That will make getting you in and out of the shower easier at least, and you won’t have to go far to use the bathroom.

“You should take the other room down here.” John says, looking at Christine. “So you can be close in case of an emergency.”

And so you don't have to be too close to them, so you won’t feel like they’re hovering.

He doesn't have to say that part out loud. 

“I put new sheets on all the beds.” Ashley says. “I also picked up everything Kyle sent on the list. Food, some clothes, some other necessities.”

You let out a quiet groan, Christine patting your head gently. You have to be exhausted and sore after the day. She should give you another dose of pain medicine like she said she would. You’re going to need it tonight. 

“Let's get you laying down for a bit.” She says, wheeling you towards the door. 

Kyle opens it for her, revealing a spacious room with a big window looking out towards the sea. You're going to spend a lot of time in front of that window, she thinks. The bed is in the middle of the room, and there’s two chairs facing the window. She’s almost tempted to sit you in one of the chairs, but laying down will be more comfortable for you right now. 

You're still too out of it now to care much as she wheels you to the double bed. With Kyle's help they get you horizontal, Christine draping the blanket at the end of the bed over you. It’s not very soft, but it will do for now. She’ll have to get the guys to pick up some soft blankets for you when they go to town. She has a whole list of things starting in her head she needs them to pick up.

She leans your crutch against the end of the bed just in case you might need it for an emergency. She hopes you’ll yell first, but you always have been stubborn. Being mostly bed-bound has only made that worse. 

“I’m going to go look through the things Ashley picked up.” She says, patting your leg gently. “Get some rest.” 

Christine leaves the door open a crack as she exits, wanting to give you a little privacy as you nap, or at least she hopes you’ll nap. It’s going to be a rough adjustment, and you’re going to need as much rest as you can get. 

“I’m assuming you’re Christine.” Ashley says, walking up to her. 

“I am.” She says, giving Ashley a smile. 

She can’t help but get lost in Ashley’s soft gaze for a moment. The Garrick siblings seem to share the same magnetic energy. There’s something almost ethereal about them. She could easily imagine them with glowing halos and angel wings. It’s almost like she’s being blessed with the opportunity to look upon her. She could spend an hour staring at Ashley’s face and not grow tired of looking at her.

“I picked up the items Kyle said you needed.” She says, motioning to the bags on the coffee table, pulling Christine out of her daze. “I couldn’t find the exact nutrient powder you asked for, so I got one that was as close as I could find.” 

Christine glances through the bags. She was thorough, getting at least two of everything. 

“I got warmer clothes for her too, since it can get chilly out here this time of year. Just some simple things for now until you guys get into town.” Ashley says. “I did some research too and I read that omegas like comforting things so I picked up some extra blankets and pillows” Ashley says, motioning to a couple bags sitting on the couch. “I also picked up this,” She pulls a stuffed dog from one of the bags, holding it up. “It was the softest one I could find. I thought it might help.” 

A small smile forms on Christine’s face, her heart fluttering in her chest from the sweet, thoughtful gesture. Ashley doesn’t even know you, nor did she know exactly what happened to you, and yet she went so far as to pick up some comfort items for you. You have nothing right now, only the borrowed clothes on your back. All of your belongings are still on base, all of the things that you had built to make your perfect nest. Would you want any of them still? Or have they been tainted by the events of the last few weeks? 

That Ashley thought to do this has warmth flooding Christine’s body. You can have some comfort now without having to wait for their trip to town. She almost feels the urge to cry. She wants to hug Ashley, thank her over and over for her kindness. Ashley has no idea how much her small act of kindness means, how much it's going to mean. 

A smile forms on Christine’s face as she stares at the stuffed dog. “It’s perfect.” 

You can hear it. 

In the distance, the quiet roar reaches your ears as you’re dragged from the sweet arms of sleep. It must be a dream, or perhaps the sedative is still clinging to your mind, making you imagine things. 

No. 

You’d know that sound anywhere. 

The effort to push yourself up to sit is a momentous one, every cell in your body protesting after a day of being moved and jostled. The last thing you want is to move right now, but you have to. 

The pain meds have done little to help.

The crutch at the end of your bed must be a thousand miles away as you sit there and stare at it. The ache in your body only increases as you become more and more aware of the pain, almost as if it can tell what it is your mind is planning. 

The door is cracked open, letting in a slit of light from outside. It’s dark in the room, the curtains pulled over the window. It’s a blessing compared to the bright yellow light outside the door. You welcome the darkness as your head begins to throb. You could call for assistance. You’d get more help than you needed. More help than you want. 

No. 

You need to do this. 

The effort it takes to get standing nearly sends you back onto the bed. The pain nearly blinds you as your feet touch the floor, your body leaning against the side of the mattress out of desperation. If you fall, you’ll never be alone again. You can’t afford that. You don’t want that. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The breaths out of your nose are short and sharp as you reach for the crutch, fingers trembling in the effort to fight the pain threatening to blind you. You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm as your fingers finally wrap around the cool metal. The rubber bottom drags across the floor as you tug it over to you, holding it against your chest for a moment. 

Breathe. That’s what you need to do. Breathe. 

In and out. 

Nice and slow. 

The pain is only a memory. The pain is nothing. The memories forming at the edges of your mind will take over and wipe out the pain and the misery. You just have to be sure. You just have to be certain.

You push yourself upright using the crutch, tucking it under your arm. You should go back to bed. You should rest. 

No. 

You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The first step you take nearly makes you sick. 

It’s like watching a baby deer walk for the first time, knees wobbling, feet shaking. You lean heavily on the crutch, your determination the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the floor in a heap. That might almost hurt worse than forcing yourself to stand upright. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Inch by inch you move across the floor, silently grateful for the socks on your feet. They allow you to slide across the hardwood, but they also pose a threat. Slide too far and you’ll lose your feet. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The determination and your desire for certainty is what keeps you sliding inch by inch across the floor towards that strip of blinding light in front of you. It’s hovering before you, threatening you. How do you know there’s not one of them standing guard, waiting for you to try and leave? You can’t know. You don’t have a clue what’s waiting on the other side of that door. It could be nothing. It could be your entire pack. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You take a moment at the door, resting your aching feet. Your body is throbbing from the effort to keep yourself upright, the sedative still numbing your brain and your movements. It’s like treading through honey, everything twice as hard as it should be. You can walk. You���ve done it before. You did it in the medical center. 

You can do it here. 

You use the crutch to push the door open more, your free arm still tucked in a sling to keep you from moving it. Reaching for it with that arm would have put you on the floor, would have caused more pain than you needed, would have made you fall. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

The light burns. Explosions of yellows and whites erupt behind your eyelids as you screw them tight against the sudden onslaught. The sun is in the room, shining its rays directly into your sensitive eyes. Your stomach churns, your fingers tightening around the crutch so tight your knuckles begin to ache. The oppressive light makes you want to recede back into the darkness of the room behind you like a vampire shying away from the light of day. 

No. 

You won’t be defeated by the harsh artificial lighting. You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The others are moving around. You can hear voices around the corner, voices upstairs with thudding footsteps. The air is thick with a mesh of scents, cleaning chemicals, and the burn of scent blocker. Your nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught against your senses, your sedated brain making it all seem so much worse. 

You need to know. 

The hardwood floors continue and you use them to your advantage as you shuffle your way across the main area. The fire crackles as you pass, the popping of a log making you startle. Your feet slide again, your body pushing up against the crutch to hold yourself steady. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Your target is dead ahead, a mile away but so close you can almost taste it. Just past the dining table and straight on till morning. 

Despite your snail’s pace, no one seems to notice you shuffling your way across the house. It should make you upset, the fact that none of them notice you moving around, but instead it makes you glad. They’d try to stop you if they noticed you, turn you around and shuffle you back to bed. Or worse, they’d carry you. 

How easily you could slip away, though. 

Well...in theory. 

Perhaps that’s why they ‘re not paying you any mind. How far could you really go in your current state? 

Why would you want to stray from the only safe space you have? 

The world outside is more dangerous with the state you’re in. Not just because of your injuries and your status, but also because you know Shepherd is still out there, and for all you know Graves is as well. 

He could be waiting right outside the door. 

No. 

They’d know. 

They’d protect you. 

They failed. 

You push past the fear in favor of certainty as you push forward, passing the dining table in your slow crawl towards the sliding glass door. 

It poses an entirely new threat as you stand before it, staring out the darkened glass. You have to get it open. Getting it open takes strength and you’re down to one hand that’s trying to keep you upright. 

You have to know. 

You have to be certain. 

You lean your weight on the crutch, ignoring the way it digs into your armpit as you reach for the handle. You click the lock, wrapping your fingers around the plastic before pulling. Your body screams with pain as you tug, the door sliding in the track as slowly as you had moved across the small living area. It’s almost as if it's mocking you. 

It’s open only as wide as you need to crutch your way through, doing your best not to knock your left shoulder against the frame. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

You can smell it. 

The salty sea air invades your senses, slipping up through your nose and straight into your brain. Memories come flooding back of childhood vacations back when things were simpler. Back when nothing mattered but the sand and the water and avoiding getting chased by your brothers carrying the piece of seaweed they found. 

Polkadot bathing suits, bright red to be seen easily. Toes in the water, sand everywhere. The nap in the silent car home. 

How simple life was back then. How easy life was. 

Your heart aches for those days again. The days when you could exist without a care in the world, trusting your pack would keep you safe, trusting your family would care for you. Your mind yearns for that sense of safety and security again. 

The world is grey as you hobble across the porch, the grey seeming to go on forever. You missed it, the chill in the air, the gloomy grey overhead. How you yearned for the gloom of England while stuck in the heat of Texas. 

Anything is better than Texas. 

Your forward shuffle pauses at the edge of the deck, your eyes looking out into the grey. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare out into the distance, the ache in your chest intensifying. It blocks out the pain in your body, numbing you to everything else as you stand there, legs trembling from the effort of going the short distance from your room to the end of the porch. 

You can see it. 

Emotions swirl inside of you like a hurricane as you stare out where the grey water meets the grey sky in the line of the horizon. Those emotions threaten to choke you as you stand there trembling at the edge of the porch. There’s a breeze, a cold one that bites through the fabric of your sweatshirt and into the skin below, but you don’t care. 

You can’t care. 

Your legs shake from the exertion, the neverending exhaustion that’s settled deep into your bones. It’s not just a physical exhaustion, but a mental one as well. It’s been a long week. 

Only a week. 

So much has happened in a week. 

You want to sit. You want to sink down onto the porch and rest. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

There’s a pain in your chest as your breath catches in your throat. The emotions are whirling, tightening around your chest, squeezing your lungs until they feel like they might pop. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You needed certainty. You needed to know. 

You can hear it. You can smell it. You can see it. 

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you stare out at the sea. 

NEXT ->

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[poisonf0rest]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜*𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader

tags: smut, teasing, guided masturbation, fingering, first time (kinda), pwp

word count: 9.3K what the fuck

synopsis: Between being in the midst of your medical residency and being an up-and-coming author, it’s safe to say your personal life has been placed on stand-still. That is, until your editor decided that your next novel needed explicit smut scenes. That is, until your mentor and boss ends up striking a deal for you to help with “inspiration” for said novel. That is, until you fuck Zayne four times and your life changes forever. - partially inspired by manga of the same name by Nae Awaji

original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57209872/chapters/145519015

art credit: @/kaito_aii

You’re screwed. Fucked. Utterly damned.

Groaning into your desk, you slam your head down upon piles of patient records and old case files. 

You’re only halfway done with your medical residency and somewhere along the way turned your lifelong passion for writing into a successful side gig. So successful in fact, that it was single-handedly providing you with enough money to get by and complete residency.

After anonymously posting online for a decade, you signed with a publisher three years ago, on the exact same day you matched with your first choice cardiothoracic residency program here at Akso Hospital.

Needless to say, you haven't felt that magnitude of happiness in years.

You doubt you ever will again.

In the midst of your wallowing, your phone lights up: Michaela. It’s a follow-up to her previous messages, all with the same damn request. 

Michaela - Boss Man

checking in on my star, how’s that manuscript going?

talked to the director again to try and plead your case but she didn’t budge :( 

she said w current book trends the fans will go crazy for a few explicit spicy scenes

pluuuus she believes in your writing enough to know you’ll make it big! come on, star, you know I’m here if you need any extra help

You - Little Star

Hey Micheala

You cringe for a moment at how formal you sound, but honestly, you’re too burnt out from writer’s block to match your editor’s energy and too tired from today’s shift to push back any further. 

You - Little Star

No I get it, thanks for trying though

I’m almost done with the novel, it's just those scenes that are taking a little more time

And by a “little more time,” you mean you’ve tried writing and rewriting them over a dozen times just to cringe, delete, and scream into your keyboard. Over. And over again. 

It’s not that you’re clueless, you’ve read your fair share of erotica for inspiration and pleasure equally. But actually writing them yourself? That was a whole different story. Pacing, banter, and even making the right word choices without sounding like a repetitive pervert or absolute lunatic were all so much harder to do than you previously gave authors credit for. 

Not to mention, you haven’t actually experienced a lot first-hand.

Beyond a few situationships in high school and undergraduate flings between pre-med classes and internships absolutely kicking your ass, you’re probably half as sexually experienced as most adults your age. And you had absolutely no intention of re-entering the dating scene with residency, until now. 

With Michaela breathing down your neck about how these explicit smut scenes were a marketing goldmine and the combined stress from your jobs, it seems like you’ve been fighting a losing battle. This time, however, your main income was on the line. 

You groan  as another ping lights up your phone, going to silence it when you realize it’s from the hospital Slack and not your editor. 

residency-CS-alerts

Dr. Zayne: Second look needed for a CMR scan. Nonurgent. 

Jumping to your feet, you sprint from the office wing to get to the MRI’s before another resident can take your spot. It’s not that your program lacked opportunities- far from it as you attend the top program– but rather that this particular opportunity was rare indeed.

Doctor Zayne. Akso Hospital's respected chief cardiac surgeon, who has made groundbreaking advances to the treatment of congenital heart abnormalities in neonates. At only twenty-seven he is the youngest recipient of the Starcatcher Award. His dedication to his craft is unparalleled, as he tirelessly devotes more time to surgeries than any other doctor you know, cementing his reputation as an unwavering force in the field.

He’s also impossibly tall, extremely well built for a man who seems to spend most of his time in the hospital, and has a face sculpted like a Roman deity in marble. And gods, his voice.

Safe to say, you admire him just a little.

You’ve bumped into him a handful of times during your first two years here, but the doctor was so engrossed in his work that the occurrence was rare enough. But a chance to perform with him? To consult alongside him on a cardiovascular case? 

You began to fear for your own heart’s safety as you felt it skip in your throat. 

Finally reaching the MRIs, you knock once before sliding the door to the control room open with a bow. And when you stand straight again, Dr. Zayne’s steel-set eyes only glance at you before he points to the readings displayed on the computer. 

“Tell me what you see.”

Your mouth is still hanging open from what was going to be a very enthusiastic self-introduction, but you cut yourself off with a cough and stumble over to the monitor. Dr. Zayne’s eyes follow you with a precision that makes your hands tremble, and you bend over slightly to scan the patient’s readings. 

You’re about ready to make a diagnosis when you realize you haven’t gotten much background on the patient.

 “What’s the patient’s briefing?” You look down, flinching as you see Dr. Zayne already staring at you. “If I can hear it, sir?”

He nods once. “An adolescent female with complaints of shortness of breath and coughing. She had no specific medical history, but grew up in the countryside unable to visit a proper clinic for several years while this issue persisted.”

Countryside… that could mean this was an undiagnosed issue that festered. 

Clearing your throat, you begin to point to the different scans. “Firstly, there’s clearly an enlarged cardiac silhouette.” Squinting, you point at two denser mounds in CMR scans. “Here and here. There are two large cysts along the lateral and inferior walls of the LV pushing and invading the myocardial walls.”

Gods, the cysts were huge. Even if surgery was performed on her now, would she survive?

Dr. Zayne’s low voice pulls you back into the control room. “Then what is your final diagnosis?”

“I–” you stutter, shaking your head. “I would recommend surgery immediately.”

“More detail than that, please.”

A sharp inhale and you scan the readings again. “Maybe a cannulation? The cysts might be causing an SVC compression, which would explain her shortness of breath.” You dare ask. “Will she survive?”

Dr. Zayne stands up this time. “You did well. She was my patient, and underwent surgery over a week ago.” He gently pats you on the shoulder, touch warm. “Our job as surgeons is to act decisively, to learn, and to try. Not to be heroes.”

You can’t manage to say anything back as Dr. Zayne leaves the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

_______

Surprisingly, you’ve been seeing more and more of Dr. Zayne since that day. 

And if that wasn’t enough, the doctor has also been actively acknowledging you, exchanging greetings and simple conversation when you pass in the halls, cafeteria, or shared cardiovascular wing of the hospital.

Not that you haven’t been putting in the effort either. 

Dr. Zayne’s current apprentice is graduating from residency this year, and you have every intention of becoming their successor. Between picking up extra shifts, answering every pager call, and of course paying special attention in case Dr. Zayne specifically requests a second pair of hands, you’ve been climbing up the ranks amongst your peers. 

Luckily, it seems those efforts have not been in vain. 

You’ve been doing so well apparently, that Dr. Zayne wants to meet with you in the hospital’s cafe today. Interviews before officially announcing mentor-mentee pairs was not unusual, but the thought of being one-on-one with Dr. Zayne after your last case together still has your mind reeling. 

Will he pull out old case files? Will he bring you to a patient and test you in real time? You have half a mind that he might pull out a custom-made test and timer. It seems on-brand enough to be a possibility.

Yet when you arrive, the cafe is completely empty, save for the staff and a familiar man in a white lab coat.

Dr. Zayne stands as soon as he sees you and beckons for you to sit, pulling the chair across from him out in the same movement. He clears his throat, a barely-there smile gracing his lips as he watches you settle down. “How have you been, doctor?”

“Good! Good.” The words rush out from you and you flinch, forcing yourself to slow down. Was the cafe always this small? “Discharged a patient today, so all good news.” Holy striped cows, if you say the word good one more time you might lose your mind.

“Well,” Dr. Zayne nods, taking a sip of something that looks like a far-too-sweet cup of coffee practically drenched in whipped cream. “That’s certainly good to hear.”

You die a little inside. 

“I’ll keep things rather brief since I’ve already made my mind up.”

Was this it? Did you ruin your chance at having Linkon’s top doctor as your mentor because of your damn mouth?

Dr. Zayne reaches inside his jacket, and you swear your heart is going to beat itself out of your throat. He pulls out a simple white envelope with your name scrawled across the front, the paper crisp as he slides it across the table. 

His fingers linger on the edges before he speaks. "I wanted to formally offer you the position to shadow me as my apprentice."

"I accept!"

The words fly out before you can stop them and Dr. Zayne looks stunned for a moment before laughing, a smooth and deep sound you didn't expect from him. He looked good when he smiled. Softer, content. 

The ghost of the smile stays, even when Zayne speaks again. "It's not a timed offer, you don't have to agree so quickly."

You flush down to your neck, looking down at the envelope. "Right. Only, it would be an honor to learn from you, sir. I really don’t know anyone in our field who wouldn’t accept it."

Zayne hums, but his brows furrow. “You don’t have to call me sir either. Doctor Zayne is fine while we are at the hospital. Zayne is more than acceptable elsewhere, we’re not that far apart in age and I don’t wish for this to be an overly formal relationship.”

You curse your heart for fluttering, reminding yourself that he only means this in a conductive, professional way. 

After a beat of silence, Zayne looks at the clock and stands, taking his sugar-filled drink with him. You never pegged him to have such a massive sweet tooth. 

"I have a consultation now, but I would like to talk to you more about your residency. We should set up weekly meetings outside of work, check your calendar, and organize it later.”

You nod and thank him as he walks away, leaving you alone to open the envelope. Inside is a simple handwritten note, signed and stamped with Dr. Zayne's official signature alongside Akso Hospital’s. 

A reminder that this was, in fact, not a dream. 

_______

It’s barely been a month since you’ve begun officially shadowing Zayne, yet you swear it feels as though a part of you has known him forever. 

Aside from his virtually frozen demeanor and tendency to make snarky quips at your habit of running your mouth, he’s been nothing but a patient mentor. Brief, direct, unrelenting, but attentive to your work and growth. 

If that were all, then everything would be perfect. 

If that were all, then you would be sticking perfectly to your ten-year plan: graduating early, completing residency under the top doctor in the top program, and then overtaking him as the top cardiovascular surgeon with a breakthrough of your own. 

But of course, the plot has to thicken. 

Sure, the first few weeks have been strictly business, but since then, your conversations with Zayne—Dr. Zayne—have morphed into more casual, more playful meetings. Your weekly check-ins have moved from the hospital cafeteria to a cozy family-run cafe in town that Zayne introduced to you. And the way you’ve begun to think of him was the most damning part of it all. 

But you don’t have the time nor capacity to deal with whatever this was becoming. 

Not when your novel’s deadline was in three weeks, and you still had absolutely nothing to show for it. Without this new novel’s money, you wouldn’t be able to pay for rent or food or transport, and residency sure as hell wasn’t giving you enough to survive off of alone. 

This past week, you’ve gone from stressed to a thundering cloud of misery. Snapping at interns, drinking dangerously over the FDA-recommended caffeine intake, and ignoring the maelstrom your face has become.

And of course, today happens to be your weekly check-in with Zayne.

Dragging yourself to your usual booth, you watch him order at the counter and bring his drink to the table alongside a signature pair of macaroons, a slice of chocolate cake, and an eclair. He sets it all down with a huff and sits, looking over at you with an iron-cold gaze. You can smell the incoming lecture. 

"You're late."

You dip your head, but your patience is running on reserve, and your reply has more bite than you’d dare use otherwise. "I'm sorry, it looks like I’ve lost track of time."

"You're never late." Zayne doesn't sound any angrier at your attitude, but it still doesn't settle the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

"I've just been really stressed. You know," you wave your hand, "wrapping up residency."

"Is that so." Zayne's gaze is sharp as he fights to maintain eye contact. It's not a question. "I've noticed. You've been distracted and irritated recently, and I can't help but wonder why. Is it really the hospital? Am I demanding too much aside from your typical resident duties?” 

You shake your head, and the guilt is back. "No, of course not."

"Then I have to assume it's something else, is it not?"

"It's..." How on earth are you supposed to explain that the reason why you're a mess is because your editor is pressuring you to write a smut scene that you have no interest in, let alone sufficient experience with? And to someone you admire, your mentor, Linkon’s top surgeon, and apparently now someone your heart is deciding to blackmail you with. "I'm sorry, Dr. Zayne. It's nothing work-related, it's not your problem to fix."

Zayne raises his eyebrow, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms. “That’s the first time you addressed me as doctor outside of hospital property in over a month. ”

You really, really, can’t do this right now, or else you might start spewing some things you’ll regret. “Really? That’s fascinating, sir.” You watch him scowl at the title you know he hates. “Still does not entitle you to my personal issues.”

“As your mentor, it becomes entitled to me when your personal issues begin affecting your performance.” He says.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your anger down. "It's really not something I can talk about here, nor to you. Can we just have a regular check-in?"

"We are."

“You know what?" You stand, chair falling back with a screech. “I think I need a rain check today, sir. You know. Stress.”

"You’re not leaving until you tell me what is bothering you."

You're about to grab your bag and walk away when you're suddenly reminded of how tall Zayne is when he stands. Practically towering over you, he leans across the table, grabbing you firm enough to prevent you from slipping away, yet never harsh enough to harm you. “Please, we’re making a scene.”

You sit. Zayne follows. 

Seeing just how reactive you’re being, he softens, genuine concern in his tone as he reaches an arm out. “Is it a family issue? Are you alright?”

“No. Yes.” You inhale deeply through your nose, but your mind is still reeling at a mile a minute. “No, it’s not a family issue.”

“So if it’s not about the hospital and not family, then what could possibly be causing you this much stress.” Zayne’s eyes narrow and you see his jaw tick. “Don’t tell me this foolishness is over a boy.”

“No! God,” you want to push yourself off a building. Or him. “No, it’s this fucking–” You’re rambling. You’re rambling, losing control, and you’re going to blurt it out and regret it. “It’s this smut scene!”

You’ve really outdone yourself this time.

Zayne chokes on his drink and slams the cup down, coughing as liquid comes out his nose. You flounder in panic, trying to help but he holds a hand up and turns, still coughing into his arm. You can only manage to pull out a few napkins, handing them over in a pathetic bundle.

“A…” Zayne almost seems to buffer, clearing his throat before looking back at you. “An erotica scene?”

Your face is burning. You can practically feel the heat radiating off of it in waves, and you have to remind yourself that writing is your job. A respectable, decent-paying, well-appreciated job that you do for the sake of womankind everywhere.

“I write for extra income alongside residency, and recently my editor got it into her head that we’ll sell even more with some extra spice.” You scoff, “But it’s been months of looking at a blank doc. Now the deadline is approaching and I still have nothing to show for it.”

Zayne doesn't say anything for a moment, and you have to check if he's breathing, or if the shock has killed him. Finally, he shifts back in his seat, adjusting his tie.

"That sounds like a difficult position to be in, doctor."

You look up, and Zayne has his arms crossed. It's an expression you're familiar with, one that means he's actually thinking about what you've said, but the way he says "doctor" now feels strange, almost as if the term has no place here.

"It's fine, I'll figure it out." This is also why you didn't want to tell him, as if Zayne has any place worrying about this on your behalf. “Besides, I’m as much a writer as a doctor, this is my job after all. I have to figure it out.”

“Of course. I’d expect no less." Zayne nods a little to himself, slightly dazed, and you scramble to find a way to change the subject back into something even remotely work-appropriate.

"Anyway, I've been keeping up with my rounds, and I think I've been able to handle more cases on my own recently, too."

"You have."

Zayne is quiet for a beat too long and you frown, tapping the table.

"Are you alright? I know this is a lot, I shouldn't have burdened you with it."

When Zayne faces you again, you watch as his brows furrow. "But if this is such a pressing issue…” He clears his throat, looking at a spot directly above your head. “Then, what if I helped you?”

You swear your head is spinning, his words ringing over and over and over in your mind. The only thing remotely in focus was Zayne’s face, far too close for comfort now, even across the table. Oh gods, you’re having this conversation in public, too.

"What do you mean by help, exactly?"

"If you’re in need of experience," Zayne's voice is low, but he still manages to keep eye contact, the intensity of it making you smile nervously. "Then I could offer my assistance. Better coming from someone you know and trust, yes?"

There’s no way you heard that right. Your mind blanks, but apparently your smartass mouth hasn’t. 

"Are you offering to be my fuck buddy? Sex consultant? My smut guide, if you will?"

A deadpan, “I would prefer the term sexual partner.”

Even the way Zayne says it makes it sound more like a business proposal than an actual proposition, and it throws you off guard. He leans back, trying to act nonchalant. "You did mention lack of inspiration was your main issue, correct?”

“Well, yes.” That, and your lack of any novel-worthy sexual experiences.

“And you have had—“ There it is again. Not quite embarrassment, and if you weren’t so tuned in to Zayne’s resting expression, you may not have noticed it, but there is a deeper furrow between his brows as his eyes evade yours, and the slightest tint of pink on the tips of his ears. “You have been with partners before, yes?”

The stoic, pragmatic, level-headed Doctor Zayne is embarrassed asking you whether or not you’ve had sex before.

You nearly laugh.

“Yes,” an amused giggle escapes you at the absurdity of this entire conversation. “I’ve been with partners,” you mimic, slightly mocking his word choice, “but it has been a while, and I haven’t really…”

Zayne moves to take another sip of coffee. “You haven’t?”

“I’ve never come. Orgasmed.”

And he chokes. Again.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” You jump from your seat to hand him yet another pile of napkins, but this time Zayne stops you halfway there, grabbing your wrist as his coughs subside.

Neither of you speaks as he drinks water and coughs once more, his grip still iron and far colder than you imagined it would feel against your bare skin.

“My apologies,” Zayne releases you immediately, going back to staring at his coffee as his hand flexes once. Twice. “Continue.”

You can only watch him in fascination, sitting back down in your chair. The entire time he avoided eye contact, and he was definitely blushing. You almost wanted to push further, to poke and tease and test his reactions, but you knew that would end with you losing your head. Or worse, you muse, heart fluttering against your chest.

“Ah, I mean, I’ve felt pleasure before. It’s not that my previous partners were unwilling to do stuff for me, I’ve just never gotten over that little plateau.” It’s not resentment that washes over you, and not quite embarrassment either. Just a little bit of dull apathy towards the subject. And yourself. “Biologically speaking of course I know it’s possible, but there are also plenty of women who simply don’t climax during sex. I’m probably just one of them.”

Zayne, who seems to have returned to his usual stoicism, frowns at that, mouth drawn taut as though he wanted to say something.

"And if we were to engage in sexual acts," He's so clinical, even as he says something that could send anyone else running. “Perhaps that is what you need to start writing again. It would make sense. To write a compelling,” he stumbles over the word, “erotica, you’d have to experience pleasure."

The gears in your mind turn, and slowly, it begins to make a twisted sort of sense. You'd have to feel it for yourself, to be able to describe the sensation, the passion, the tension with conviction. Perhaps it really would get you closer to finishing this damn book.

But then you remember who you're talking to. Doctor Zayne. Your coworker. Worse than that, your mentor and direct superior in your field, and someone you happen to admire very much. So then why would he…?

"What do you gain from this, Zayne?"

Zayne stiffens. “I’m a doctor, it’s my duty to help my patients.”

A sly smile cracks against your lips, and you prop your chin against your palm. “I didn’t realize I was your patient now, doctor?”

His eyes snap back to yours and he straightens, his demeanor slipping back to his typical formality. "You have a bright future in front of you. This is an investment in you, and I believe this will help us both. I will draw up a contract tomorrow for us to discuss, you can meet me in my office after your shift.”

“Rather formal,” you say, but Zayne doesn’t take the bait this time.

He simply takes another sip from his coffee, and you swear you catch him smiling behind the porcelain rim. “Then perhaps I could also get a signed copy of your next book?"

You scoff, waving him off as you slouch back in your chair. "Of course, I'll throw one in the mail the day it's out."

"It's a deal then.”

He’s about to push in his chair when you lunge from yours, grabbing his sleeve as his eyes widen slightly, looking down at where your hands meet. "Thank you,” a smile. ”Zayne."

His gaze softens and he smiles a bit, nodding. "Of course, doctor."

And with a wave, he's gone.

_______

You don’t know what you expected. 

Zayne seemed like the type to take his girl out to dinner first, probably somewhere obscenely expensive. He’d show up with a single rose or another simple but romantic gift so seemingly contradictory to his outward appearance. Afterward, maybe he’d take her to a show or somewhere with fancy sweets, knowing his taste. Then, after all that, he’d invite her back to his apartment or allow her to whisk him away to her place.

You’d imagine it would go something like that. But then again, the terms of your relationship are quite different then the one he’d have with this imaginary woman. So when he texts you after your shift that Tuesday asking if you’re free tonight, you’re only moderately panicked. 

To make matters worse, he’s at your house five minutes early.

Two knocks, and you scramble to open the door, Zayne nearly dwarfing the door frame as he lingers outside the hallway. His trenchcoat only adds to his natural tendency to command attention, and you feel more vulnerable than usual in your sleep clothes. 

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.” 

Zayne adjusts his collar. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You tap your chin, pretending to mull it over in your mind, relishing in the slight nervousness your silence instills in Zayne. “It would be rather bothersome to fuck in the hallway, I suppose…”

Zayne shakes his head at the remark, but you can see amusement dancing in his eyes. With that, you step aside, and he ducks under the doorframe to slip inside. It’s as though something irreversible- something inevitable- shifts as you watch him cross the threshold, and it doesn't get better when you close the door and lock it behind him. 

You'd say he makes himself at home, but his stance is still too stiff, too awkward, even as he’s hanging his coat and slipping out of his shoes. It almost feels domestic.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Zayne shakes his head, "Not this time."

He says it so casually, and yet the notion of a next time has you dizzy. Of course there’s a next time, you’ll need more than one night to get inspiration. It was only a natural assumption, you reason with yourself. 

"You seem tense," he says, and then your back is against the wall.

Zayne leans down, hovering above you as his hand comes up to your waist. A tentative touch, and you give a small nod, feeling his arm relax, palm sliding further into the plush of your hips. He looks so good like this, in a work button-down with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and his lips parted. Gods, and he’s not even trying- there’s genuine concern written in the way he scans your body with a deep crease between his brows. You hope he doesn’t notice how you squeeze your thighs tighter.

"It's the deadline, is all," you say, trying to brush off the question.

"Ah, of course. How inconsiderate of me. I’m supposed to be helping you and here I am making it worse.”

Zayne's voice is low and smooth. The cadence in his words, the slight drawl, is a sound that makes your heart skip a beat. It's a shame it's so easy to hide your arousal when you're this nervous.

“Well,” You smile, and his gaze flickers down to your mouth. “I suppose I can forgive you if you uphold your end of the deal.”

His stare is heavy, and it feels like the room is closing in. But you understand the man well enough to know that he wouldn’t dare move first, not until you asked for it, not when you have yet to set a precedent. So you loop your arms around his neck, forcing Zayne closer as his forearm slams against the wall to hold himself up against you. 

You nip at the lobe of his ear, smiling to yourself as he shivers with each warm exhale. Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your side while he lets you grind against him, guiding your movements as you groan against his neck. 

But Zayne feels you rush through the movements, a messy sort of impatience less from desire and more from routine. As though you wanted this done. As though you wanted him gone. 

You feel a familiar flutter against your core as Zayne’s knee comes up against your core, but when you move to grind against his thigh, the hand at your waist stops you. 

“I want to do this properly. You deserve—” he cuts himself off. Starts over. “Where would you like to do this?”

You’re about to tell him that right here is fine, not wanting Zayne to feel as though you needed any more special attention, when you realize just how serious he is. “Bedroom," you say.

Zayne hums, and the rumble reverberates throughout his chest. He offers a hand, and you take it.

And with that, you lead him to your room.

Somewhere between the span of your hallway and bed, Zayne seems to have decided how tonight will go. Despite your desperate touches, teasing up his body and luring him closer, Zayne slows his own pace, leaving burning trails traced with agonizing slowness over the curves of your body. Despite your fumbling to strip off your shirt, Zayne grabs your wrist, forcing it behind your back as his other hand teases the exposed skin of your ribs in a way that has you shivering. Despite your hushed complaints for him to just hurry up Zayne merely smiles in amusement, refusing to give you anything more as he scolds you with a click of his tongue. 

Zayne refuses to rush this. He wants to savor every moment, to etch the sight of you into his mind and commit it to memory, to relive it in this life and the next. 

He continues walking forward, each one forcing you to take a step back until your knees hit your bed, buckling as his form looms over you.

“The largest mistake in any relationship- sexual or not- is lack of communication.” He loosens his tie, “So if we are to do this, you have to talk to me. Tell me what you like, what you don’t.”

As he speaks, Zayne continues undressing, unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt before rolling up the cuffs so every glorious inch of his forearms is exposed. Your breath catches with each trailing vein, shadowed in the dim lighting up until they disappear under his sleeves.

Maybe you should write a Victorian-era piece next. Clearly, you had a thing for small swaths of exposed skin.

As if hearing your thoughts, Zayne undoes another button before his hands venture south. With a slow, deliberate motion, he unbuckles his expensive leather belt and allows it to slide through the loops of his pants. It drops to the floor, joining all the other articles of clothing as he takes a seat on the mattress, resting his hand on your bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where your sleep shorts have ridden up.

"Tell me what you like and don't like." Zayne repeats, eyes focused on yours, "And remember, you say no, and this stops."

Zayne moves painfully slow, his hands fluttering down your shoulders, breasts, hips, until he plants them behind you, caging you between his broad chest and the mattress. His hand slips under your shirt’s fabric once more, and you feel yourself tense.

You aren’t wearing anything fancy. After all, you were simply writing in bed, nearly falling off when you suddenly got Zayne’s text. Only a pair of shorts and a cami, but gods, when Zayne’s hands begin trailing up your stomach, dragging the thin fabric up with him, you really wished you put something sexier on.

He doesn't stop until his fingertips brush against the underwire of your bra, thick fingers slipping under the band as he practically tugs you toward him. "Can you take this off for me?"

"Don't know how to do it yourself?" You tease.

Before you even finish taunting him, Zayne's hand has already snuck around your back, undoing the clasp and forcing you onto your back. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Now, now, we'll be here all night if we start fighting." He chastises you, tone far too smug. Zayne tugs the undone bra up, his fingers tracing the red marks it left against your skin. You tremble under his touch. "Didn't realize how sensitive you are." 

His tone is even, but you can see the slight curl at the corner of his lips.

"Your hands are cold," you say, voice wavering as Zayne begins taking your shirt off as well. You try not to fidget, knowing that the way your arms are held up only emphasizes the size difference, Zayne being able to completely lift your chest against him as the other binds your wrists. You're not tiny. But next to him? It barely mattered.

"I apologize." But it feels half hearted at best, especially with the way he’s staring at your bare chest, not even bothering to take your shirt all the way off. It almost feels more embarrassing like this, cotton bunched against your collarbones under his palms.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

The way he says it causes a rush of blood to your face. “I’m not some virgin that might break.” You grumble under your breath, but Zayne is as stupidly attentive as always and frowns.

“Do not mistake my care for pity.” 

Something ugly aches in your chest when he looks at you like that.

Zayne’s hand comes up, large enough to encircle the entirety of your cheek as you’re enveloped in the chill of his touch. His body is nearly atop yours, each word breathed into your mouth. “Then, if you have no more snarky remarks, allow me to begin."

Zayne’s gaze drops to where he thumbs at your lips, leaning in as you watch his pupils dilate, flickering with something before he flinches away, kissing the corner of your mouth instead.

His other hand cups the curve of your breast, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You gasp, the sensation heightened by the feeling of his teeth against your collarbone, nipping marks into your skin. 

It takes a moment for all his featherlight touches to register, your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb rubs your chin. You try to ignore the way he avoids your lips, refusing to get too close.

All for the better, you remind yourself.

He kisses lower, down between the valley between your breasts, hot breath the only warning you get before his tongue meets your nipple while his fingers deliver a sharp flick to the other. The contrast of the heat from his mouth to the cold of his fingertips sends you reeling as you muffle your cries into your palm. 

Zayne doesn’t like that. He forces your hand from your mouth, biting your nipple as if in vengeance as you moan, the sound broken and desperate as you claw at his forearm.

Satisfied, his tongue smooths over the bright pink bite mark and swollen bud, the unpredictable pressure fogging up your every thought before he retreats with a wet pop. 

Finally, Zayne moves to fully remove your shirt, but pauses when you flinch.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I undressed as well?” Zayne begins to take off his own shirt, but you lunge for him, stopping his hands as your voice escapes in a whoosh.

“No.”

His collared shirt was utterly ruined, unbuttoned just enough so you could see his flushed chest when he bent over. And now when he sat up straight the bottom rose up just a bit, exposing a stretch of his lean torso, a peak of his abs, and a dark happy trail that dipped into his tailored pants. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it sent a shameful throbbing down your core.

“You can keep it like that, it’s hot.”

Zayne doesn’t respond, but when he averts his eyes you swear you watch his lips curl into a smirk. It’s gone by the time he looks at you. Not that you have any time to dwell on it, not when Zayne closes the remaining space between you, guiding you against the pillows.

You try not to focus on how out of place he seems in your apartment, mere presence dwarfing everything else as he makes his way between you, forcing your knees apart.

Zayne leans back, his fingers trailing up your leg, edging up the fabric of your shorts up with his touch, but never daring to slip past the self-imposed barrier of the cotton. He coaxes your hips up, and you kick the shorts off in a clumsy movement, Zayne's eyes now focused between your thighs before you snap them shut as best you can around his waist.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– Doctor–”

“Relax. I can’t guide you if you don’t let me, now open.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Zayne’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You could call this off, he’s told you that much directly, and knowing Zayne if you did so everything would go right back to how it was before. A mentor and student. Coworkers. Strangers.

You force the tremors in your thighs to relax, knees dropping from Zayne’s hips to the sheets below as you move your left leg just enough to feel the inner band of your underwear stretch.

It’s a bearable amount of embarrassment and vulnerability, until you look up at Zayne again, and akin to a deer in headlights, you freeze. He watches with enough intensity for it to be clinical, a vicious sort of attentiveness that sees every twitch, every strain your body responds with, as if committing it all to memory. As if he were to devour you alive. 

You think you’d let him.

Zayne reaches over, and his thick finger trails a line up your inner thigh, immediately followed by goosebumps, knuckles ghosting the inner seam of your panties.

Your body reacts before you do. Before you can even breathe, the air catches in your throat, and your legs squeeze together in a pathetic attempt to hide yourself.

Zayne pins them down immediately, gaze snapping up to you. You expect a reprimand. Maybe a warning or a punishment, and the anticipation makes your stomach twist.

Instead, his brows draw in, as if lost in thought. “You said you never came from touching yourself either?”

You can barely manage a nod.

“Hm. Then you weren’t doing it right.” He says, so bluntly that you can only blink at him. “Show me how you do it.”

Zayne sits back between your thighs, one hand still absent-mindedly caressing your knee, waiting expectantly.

And you feel the flush burn all the way up your ears and down your chest.

Oh, that was not what you expected him to say. You were prepared for him to touch you, or to guide you, but instead he asks for the complete opposite.

And, well, you could only ever try your best for him— ever the people pleaser. 

It's humiliating how easily your fingers slip under the elastic band. Even more so when the pads of your fingers run down your folds, and you feel yourself clench at the mere contact, already slick and wanting. You move to tug your underwear off, but Zayne stops you, grabbing at your wrist.

"Wait," He's panting, eyes blown as he continues to stare at you, at the wet patch accumulating in the center of those damned panties. "Keep them on."

His tone is so serious a part of you wants to laugh. You're about to make a quip when he pulls your hand up, bringing your fingers to his lips and wrapping his tongue around them. The way he teases from the pad of your finger to your knuckle, sucking as he goes, has you lightheaded. Your hips stutter upwards, a pitiful sound escaping from your throat as you try to keep yourself together.

He doesn't stop. Not until your fingers are clean and your thighs have grown unbearably sticky, neglected and throbbing.

When he finally lets go, you're a gasping mess, and Zayne looks downright smug. "Now, you can continue."

The bastard.

You don't know how you manage to move, let alone bring your fingers to your entrance.

Pushing aside the cotton, your first touch is tentative, and you flush at how much easier it is with Zayne’s spit covering them. Your breath catches both from the initial stretch and the way Zayne leans in closer to see, even though the thin elastic prevents him from watching the way your cunt flutters around the new intrusion. 

You shift, but your need has grown nearly uncomfortable, hips beginning to buck up as one finger quickly becomes too little, and you whine as you attempt to push in another, to push in a little deeper.

"Slower. You're going too fast."

You can't help the scowl, your tone sharper than intended. “How would you know?" 

Zayne’s face is a cool mask, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement. "You did ask me for advice, did you not?" Then his voice takes on a sharper edge, demanding again. "Slow down, then you may continue."

As if you needed his permission to continue. But you do as he says, rocking your fingers in and out, pace painfully slow, mere friction sending jolts of heat throughout you. 

Usually, this was the best part, the delicious and tortuous build-up that would ultimately lead to nothing. Not nearly long enough, your fingers hit just below your sweet spot, and you could feel tears of frustration prick against your eyes. Writhing, you tried to plunge further, choking out a moan again and again at the barest brushing against your sweet spot, mindlessly grinding your hips up to meet each cruel thrust of your fingers. 

You cry when you finally hit that spot inside you, head falling against the pillows as you tense, about to move again when something stops your hand, ripping it away from your desperate chase. 

“You–“ Zayne shakes his head, breath ragged as some combination of a frustrated exhale and moan rumbles through his chest, the sound going straight to your cunt. “You’re too impatient. Too rough.”

You try to swallow, try to hide how the sound of his moan and the rough cadence of his voice makes the muscles of your belly and thighs spasm, but Zayne doesn't miss a thing. He doesn't release your hand, not fully, but rather guides both of your digits to trace around your clit instead.

"Again," he says, “This time slower. How does it feel?”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you feel his hand continue to guide yours, entire body jolting when he catches against the hood of your oversensitive clit, tapping as he lets you circle it on your own. 

“Good. It feels really good.”

Zayne hums, but he already knows that. He feels it through the drenched bottoms of your panties, rubbing your poor swollen clit through them, watching as you gush again, the slick coating his palm and dripping down his wrist in sticky strands.

It takes everything within him not to withdraw his hand and lick it all. Or even better, take his mouth to you directly. Not yet. Not yet, he reminds himself. Next time.

You have to bite your lip as you feel Zayne’s hand take over your own, almost greedily pushing and pinching your clothed cunt, the fabric both a delicious friction and a damn barrier you wish was gone so you could finally feel his bare fingers on you, in you. It’s torture, every nerve on fire as Zayne continues to focus on your clit while your fingers return against your folds, teasing your entrance with a light touch before pressing in.

But it's still not enough. It's not what you need.

You look to Zayne for direction, but his expression is unreadable in the darkness. "Deeper. Keep going."

The angle isn't quite right, but you do as he says, trying and failing to muffle your sounds as you fuck yourself on your fingers, desperately chasing the feeling building up once more.

“Again. Deeper.”

It hurts. Your wrist is beginning to ache, and you’re really not sure how much longer you can keep going, crying out again when Zayne forces his hand flat against your clothed core, shoving your own fingers deeper and causing the wet fabric to rub deliciously against your clit. 

You don't even have time to react before he's pulling away, his own hand rubbing the wetness on his fingers together as he watches the strands break and drip down his hand.

His tone is so nonchalant despite the way he keeps his gaze trained between your legs. As if the sight of you, flushed and gasping, with your cunt pathetically leaking and yet still demanding more, wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. 

“Ask,” Zayne demands, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Ask for it.”

“Need your help, please, Zayne” you manage, voice airy and heart still racing from unintentionally edging yourself over and over again. “I want your fingers.”

It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. Hands gentle enough to care for patients, steady enough to perform surgeries, cruel enough to tease you this mercilessly, and yet you can’t help but imagine what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly. 

You’ve probably thought about his hands more times than you’d like to admit.

At the hospital, at the cafe, at night in your apartment. Every inch of his body seems to haunt you like a forgotten memory your body had already grown addicted to.

The moan that rumbles out of Zayne’s chest is low and addicting. He sits back for only a moment before your hips are dragged down the bed, a yelp leaving your lips from the sheer force. 

Zayne practically knocks your leg over his shoulder, and when you arch off balance, you press against something that has you inhaling sharply through your nose. Fuck, Zayne’s hard.

He shudders violently at the contact, falling onto his forearms as you roll against him once more, watching his face twist from the painful pleasure you know all too well. You feel his control slipping, both in the way his fingers tighten at your hips and the throbbing heat you feel twitch against your thigh.

And just realizing how much you’ve affected him is enough to send your eyes rolling back into your skull with a violent tremor. 

You attempt to grind up against him again when Zayne roughly pins you back down. You writhe helplessly, hips pinned to the mattress as Zayne curses, adjusting himself in his slacks with a rough squeeze. “No.” A command to both himself and you, “You asked for my fingers, so that’s what you will get.” 

You’re about to open your mouth to make another demand, but Zayne is one step ahead of you yet again. “That’s all you’re getting.” As if to quell your anger, he begins to thumb at your clit again, moving to take off your last remaining piece of clothing. “Next time.”

A promise he has every intention to keep.

Ironically, Zayne is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your endeavors, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow. But you’ve been worked up far too long, and as soon as Zayne begins fucking you with two of his much thicker fingers, you already feel the familiar tension building.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re feeling?”

“Not really,” you manage through clenched teeth. 

You feel Zayne pull away and thrust your hips up into nothingness, only making yourself more sensitive when he roughly thumbs at your clit. He slams your hips back down, a cruel pinch to the oversensitive nub forcing you to arch into him as your jaw falls slack.

 “That was not a question.” Zayne is still hovering above you, watching as his fingers slip against your cunt, slick with your arousal. “Use your words.”

His voice takes a dark edge every time he commands you now, and you bite your lip to not whimper at the tremor his voice sends down your skin. It’s not fair, the effect something so simple has on you. But while his demand is still ringing in your ears, Zayne curls his fingers further upwards, rubbing directly against that sweet spot inside you with frustrating ease, and you sob. 

"Please,” you can’t even remember to beg. Zayne nearly abuses the spot, curling into it over and over again until you’re certain you’re drooling all over the silk of your pillow, writhing. "Please, I'm– I need more, and, ah—“

Zayne hums. "More? You're going to have to be more specific if you actually want to orgasm."

You whine, shaking your head as his eyes narrow. He’s only halfway through scolding you when his finger smacks against your clit, the sharp twinge of pain enough to make you cry. "Don't be a child. Words. Tell me what's giving you pleasure so I can help you."

"It's," a huff of air leaves you and you can barely manage to form a coherent sentence, your mind fogging over completely as Zayne continues to talk. "Hah, your voice helps.”

“My voice?”

Your eyes nearly roll back at the sound of Zayne’s chuckle. A deep, cruel thing that you now think may be all you need to come as your eyes screwed shut. “Well, if that’s the case, then I suppose I should just keep talking. Keep your eyes open.”

You obey, and Zayne simultaneously pulls your jaw towards him, forcing you face-to-face with him. “Look at me.”

You do. You do and really wish you hadn’t because the smug smile pulling at the corner of his lips and the freckles of light green you now see in his softened gray eyes might really be all you need to send yourself over the edge.

And, as if listening, Zayne forces his fingers deeper inside, the tips of his digits hitting the same spot that has your mind fogging over, vision blurring with a disorienting mix of hazy and dizzy. You can barely hold on, fingers twitching against the sheets as suddenly it becomes too much, your hands shooting up as you press desperately against Zayne’s chest. 

“Wait–” You’re dizzy. The pressure is consuming you, and you’re losing control. “Please, Zayne.”

He stops immediately, pliant under your touch as he lets you push him away. Even so, his free hand comes up to meet yours, coaxing your fingers against his as he holds it up to his chest, letting you ground yourself with his heartbeat.

The rhythm is comforting.

Zayne isn’t speaking anymore, just looking, waiting for you to give him a sign. He doesn’t dare move, letting his fingers sit still, buried inside of you. You don't know if it's the dizziness lingering in your head or the fact that his fingers are insistently rubbing against a spot inside of you that sends sparks up your spine, but either way, you might be going insane.

“Keep your breathing steady, even when you’re close. Deep breaths.” In, out. In, out. Your chest rises as Zayne’s does, bare skin brushing his. “Good.”

Even as your vision clears, Zayne refuses to let go of your hand, this time pinning it beside your head as he begins to move his other hand too, thumb circling your clit as the others curl against your walls. 

When you begin to shake again, his lips ghost by your neck, dangerously soft and hesitant as he kisses down from your jaw, following each whimper and moan you give to him with loyal intent, sucking gently at a spot near your jugular and collarbone.

"Ah, Zayne. I think–" your breathing hitches as Zayne presses another soft kiss against your skin.

"Are you okay?" The softness of his tone nearly breaks you, and you force yourself to ignore it. Focus on the sensations; focus on what you can use for the novel. Nothing more.

You nod.

"What else, darling? Are you close?"

Your breath hitches. The sudden pet name has you reeling, and you feel Zayne keep his steady rhythm, even through your trembling and whining, his thumb mercilessly circling against your clit in ways you swear never feel the same when you’ve done it. 

"Call me that again," you cry, nearly begging.

"Come. Come for me, darling."

And you do.

Your vision blurs as you come around Zayne’s fingers, a silent scream catching in your throat. All you can manage is a broken moan as you arch into him, gripping his forearm and holding it in place. Your thighs quiver around his arm, and Zayne holds you still, coaxing you through it as wave after wave of pleasure wash over you.

The sensation is overwhelming. You're not even sure how long it lasts, the only thing grounding you is the weight of Zayne's hand laced against your own.

Slowly, he begins to withdraw his fingers, kissing your knuckles softly.

"How are you feeling?"

The room is quiet, and it feels like all the sound has been sucked out of it. Your head is fuzzy and your whole body is tingling, and all you can focus on is Zayne's soft breathing.

Good, you want to tell him. More than that, your body is still shaking from pleasure and desire, and you can’t stop looking at Zayne’s lips or remembering how hot and needy he felt grinding against your thigh. You can’t stop thinking about him, so instead you say, “Fine.”

Zayne stiffens. “Good.” 

He sits up, still scanning your face for something as you watch the fabric of his shirt pull taut across his chest and stomach, and once again you are overwhelmed by the desire to run your hands down his body, to feel his skin against yours. To see more of him.

“I’m going to get you water and a towel.” He says, not moving just yet. “Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head no. Zayne nods, leaning in as his hand goes to your jaw before he pauses halfway and steps out of bed, making his way to your bathroom.

You don’t really remember how much of the night goes by after that, a blur of Zayne attentively guiding you through proper aftercare and you throwing in a few quips here and there at his ceaseless worrying. Before long, he’s saying farewell, and you’re back at your computer screen, empty doc staring right back at you. 

But the words never form. Not when your head is still spinning, replaying everything that happened tonight in vivid flashbacks as an overwhelming rush of mortification and desire runs down your spine. 

You can’t help but feel that perhaps you just made an irreversible mistake.

[pedgito]

↝ FOR THE WORK (10k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [Pre-Outbreak]

↝ PATROLS (17k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. A collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to Joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next.[Set Post S1]

↝ SOFT & SWEET (5k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around Work Song by Hozier. A comfort fic with lots of angst and fluffy goodness. Content Warnings: mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it’s just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

↝ MEET ME IN THE WOODS (50k words) | (Finished Series) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Taking a much needed vacation for the holiday, you aren't aware your cabin has been double-booked until you're face to face with the other guest the night you arrive, left with a big decision to make and the possibility of a month with a man you know nothing about. But, through communication and isolation, you learn that you and him might not be that different after all. Consumed by your shared loneliness, you find company in the unlikeliest of place—a stranger named Joel, in the middle of the woods. [No Outbreak] (6 chapters)

↝ MET THE DEVIL LAST NIGHT (6k words) — (AU) Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: 18+ Demon!Joel, Virgin!Reader, this was little plot and mostly smut lol.

↝ THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR RIDING (3k words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots.

↝ HANDSOME, DIRTY, RICH (12k words) — BFD!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The rich father of your bestfriend, Sarah — Joel Miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. ↝ RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW (2.7k words) Summary: joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises.

↝ MILLER'S GIRL (24k+ words) | (Finished Series) — (AU) Professor!Joel Miller

Summary: A sudden infatuation with your professor yields strange, unnerving results and Joel Miller, in his first semester at a new job finds himself in an unlikely position with a student that hides their intentions behind innocence.

↝ MOONLIGHT (8k words) — No Outbreak!Joel Miller

Summary: a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.

↝ STICKY SWEET (3.2k words) — dbf!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

↝ DIRTY LAUNDRY (5.6k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. After all, what are neighbors for?

↝ ANYWHERE BUT HERE (1.8k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: A poor damsel in distress, saved by the most unlikely of man.

↝ ABSOLUTION (Ongoing Series, last updated 7/18) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

REMORSE FOR REMEDY (Ongoing Series, last updated 8/21) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

BONUS (+ other characters):

TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE (9k words) — Tommy x Reader x Joel

Summary: Both the Miller brothers have a thing for you and you have a thing for them. They give you an ultimatum and you don’t like that. So, instead of one, you choose both.

UPDATED: 8/23/2024

[lovelettersfromluna]

The Summoning

summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?

an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)

warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!

A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.

God you hated the holidays.

Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.

So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.

Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.

After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.

Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.

So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.

But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.

It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.

And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.

In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.

Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.

You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.

As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.

“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.

But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.

Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.

You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.

“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.

She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.

You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.

You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.

You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.

She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.

You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.

You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.

Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.

But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.

You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.

"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.

Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.

The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.

You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.

Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.

You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.

Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.

You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.

You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.

She’s looking at you.

And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.

But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.

If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.

When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.

You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.

Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.

Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.

But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.

There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.

And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?

Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.

“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.

“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.

But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.

You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.

“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.

You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.

“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.

“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.

She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.

That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.

Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.

Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.

“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.

Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.

‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.

You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.

“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.

All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.

“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.

You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.

Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.

“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”

This catches you off guard.

Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.

You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.

“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.

“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.

“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.

And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.

They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.

“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.

“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.

Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.

You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.

“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.

After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.

You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.

And so were you.

When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.

Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.

You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.

“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.

“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.

As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.

The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.

“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.

You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.

“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.

You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.

“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.

Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.

Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.

You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.

The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.

You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.

“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.

Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.

You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.

You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.

You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.

“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.

“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.

“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.

You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.

You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.

The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.

No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.

And that scared you.

Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…

The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.

You realized, you needed this date.

So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.

The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.

And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.

Right?

You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.

Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.

It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.

You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.

You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.

You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…

Leaving Ellie for the night.

All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.

But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-

Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.

She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.

“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.

You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.

“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.

“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.

But she does hear you.

Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.

“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?

The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.

You know it isn’t good.

Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.

“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.

Fuck.

You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.

And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.

Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.

You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.

She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.

“Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.

“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.

“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.

She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.

Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.

“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.

And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.

“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.

“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.

“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.

It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.

Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.

She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.

“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?

If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.

Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.

“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.

Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.

After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.

“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..

Because Ellie never left marks.

It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.

Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.

You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.

You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.

You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.

You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.

“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.

“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.

Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.

You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.

You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.

You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.

She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.

She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.

You felt like you were dreaming.

All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.

Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.

She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.

“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.

And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…

But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..

Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.

Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.

Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.

“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.

You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.

And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.

Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.

Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.

Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.

“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.

“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.

“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.

Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.

The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…

And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..

Because she’s in love with you

[blacktabbygames]

We're thrilled to announce that we've wrapped principal development work on Slay the Princess — The Pristine Cut. We'll be releasing it this Fall (date TBD) so we can simultaneous ship the update with both the game's console release (surprise!) as well as official subtitling support for 11 new languages, all with the help of our wonderful new partners at Serenity Forge (who you might know from their publishing work on Doki Doki Literature Club Plus!)

There's a lot for us to share about The Pristine Cut, but before we get into the details, please check out our new trailer!

Here's what we've got coming for you: Content

For those of you who are just now hearing about The Pristine Cut, it's an entirely free director's cut of the game that adds about 35% more content on top of the initial release.

This includes massive expansions to The Den, The Apotheosis, and The Fury routes, each of which is over three times bigger than their release versions, with tons of variations to discover across multiple playthroughs.

On top of this, we're adding three brand new chapter three routes that will add even more depth to your stories with The Damsel, The Prisoner, and The Spectre.

And we're adding a new ending.

All in all, these additions come to over 2,500 new voice lines, over 1,200 new hand-drawn illustrations, and over 15 new tracks of music.

We're also adding an extensive CG gallery with over 400 unlocks to help all you completionists track your progress, complete with cryptic hints to help you discover some of the game's more obscure and buried interactions.

Languages

And all of this is coming with a giant wave of localization support, covering the following languages: Simplified and Traditional Chinese, Korean, Japanese, French, German, Russian, Spanish (Latin American), Brazilian Portuguese, Italian, and Polish. These localizations are just going to cover subtitles, so we can be as thorough as possible about maintaining the quality of Jonny and Nichole's performances.

Consoles, Physical Release and New Merch

With the help of Serenity Forge, we’re bringing Slay the Princess — The Pristine Cut to every major current console — Nintendo Switch, PS4 + 5, and Xbox.

And these won’t just be available as digital downloads. You’ll also be able to pick up a physical edition for the Switch and PS5, with an exclusive sticker sheet and a download code for the game’s soundtrack.

And if that’s not enough we’re also doing a Collector’s Edition, complete with a 7 inch statue of the Princess, a mirror with a lenticular lens, an acrylic standee, and more.

And finally (for now), we’re launching the first wave of new line of sticker sheets, featuring chibi art of the Princesses as seen in The Pristine Cut’s new gallery. Pre-order them now at Topatoco!

Alongside these developments, we've also launched a new website for the game: check out slaytheprincess.com where you can order the physical editions, check out merch, and more!

Thank you so much for your patience while we've worked to make The Pristine Cut the definitive version of Slay the Princess. We can't wait to share all of the game's new stories with you this Fall.

Until then, we're back to working full-time on the next Episode of Scarlet Hollow (and have been for about a few weeks now!)

Best, Abby and Tony