#I can’t wait up and have my heart hammering this fast

[vcrnons]

these were taken for me and for only me

[dyaz-stories]

your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.

word count: 4.1k

warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.

So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.

You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.

You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.

“C��mon now, I haven’t got all day.”

You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.

“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.

It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.

“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.

But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.

The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.

You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.

Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.

But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.

You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.

Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.

Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.

It’s fine, though.

You’re used to waiting for him.

Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—

And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.

He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.

“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.

“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.

You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.

Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…

He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.

He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”

Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.

“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”

He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.

“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.

You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—

“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.

“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”

“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.

“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”

Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.

“Ask me what?”

His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.

“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”

It’s like a bomb just went off.

Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.

“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“No, no, I’m, uh—”

You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.

“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”

It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.

He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.

Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.

But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.

“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”

A light buzz starts again in his ears.

“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”

“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”

He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.

“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”

He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.

“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?

“Please,” he whispers.

Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.

Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.

His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.

“Is that okay? We can stop—”

“No, I—”

He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.

But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.

After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?

“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.

Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.

From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.

He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.

“Still good?” you ask.

And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.

“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”

“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.

“I could tell.”

What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.

Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.

You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.

Your fingers hook in his hoodie.

“Can I?” you ask.

He’d go to the moon and back for you.

He nods.

You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.

You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.

He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.

Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.

You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?

His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.

“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”

Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.

“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”

The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.

Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.

Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.

“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”

But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.

“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.

“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”

“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”

“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”

“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”

And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.

“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.

“I would. I would like that.”

Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.

He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.

i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.

next one-shot

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare through the window as hammering echoes through the glass. Despite the muffling of the barrier between you, it’s loud enough to put you on edge. Or maybe that’s because of the man calmly bringing the iron down on the nails. 

As if he can sense you, he looks up, his dark hair flopping back. You quickly spin away. You have to be going stir crazy. Bucky was just concerned. A lot of people come up this way and get freaked out by the wilderness. You used to when you visited as a child. 

You go back to the kitchen and take out the ingredients for your grandma’s classic turkey stew. It’s always a comfort as the temperature starts to drop. Still, it’s never as good as she made it. One day, you might figure out the secret. 

Cooking is a good distraction. There isn’t much to do up here. Often, you enjoy that facet of your existence. You work then disconnect and just do your own thing. Now you can’t help but feel the desolation. 

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The hammering continues. You put the turkey into roast. It’s always better to season and cook it first then shred it up for the stew. You set the broth to simmer with the chunked veggies and pace the kitchen as you wait for it all to come together. 

You use a fork to pick the meat of the turkey legs and dump it all in the boiling pot. Another hour to meld together and it’ll be ready to serve. The longer you let it, the better. It’s always best the day after. 

The silence doesn’t hit you until you hear the back door. The smell of pine follows Bucky inside. You put your attention to the pot and stir it. 

He sniffs and sighs loudly as he enters. “Ah, smells delicious. Chicken?” 

“Turkey,” you correct him as he twists on the faucet and squirts soap into his hands. He lathers up and looks at you. “It’s funny. Back in my day, not to sound like a crotchety old geezer, women cooked. They had recipe cards on the counter. These days, half the girls I talk to can only use some app to order pizza that tastes like ketchup on cardboard.” 

“Oh, yeah? I kinda miss fast food,” you say dully. 

“Huh. ‘Cause I miss the home cooking. It’s just... simpler.” He shuts off the tap and shifts closer, drying his hand on the dishcloth as he looms. “If it hadn’t all gone to shit, I probably woulda found a good woman. Settled down, lived the good life.” 

“Right,” you nod awkwardly and set the spoon down.  

He clicks his tongue and turns, putting his hand on the counter as he leans on one foot. His other hand goes to his hip. “But then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Fair,” you say, distancing yourself as you step around him to get to the fridge. “I got some cider left over? Want some? It’s mulled. Julian down by the Rocks makes it--” 

“Think I’m good,” he says. 

You put the large glass jug on the counter and open the cupboard. Bucky catches it and shoves it closed with a snap. You face him in surprise. He’s strong. You know that but feeling it is something else. 

“Sorry, I... I’m in your way?” You wonder. 

“No, you’re right where you should be,” he says. 

You try not to lean away from him. Your heart is racing. You swallow and peer over at the dimming window. 

“I could help you cover up the lumber before--” 

“Already did that,” he interjects. “You know, I think I’m where I need to be too,” he edges closer. “Think after everything, I did find that good woman.” 

You blink, speechless. You can barely think above the tempo behind your ears. 

“I hear it.” He puts his fist to his chest and knocks on it. “I know you feel it too.” He stills his hand and holds it over his heart. “I was pissed when Sam brought me up here. Dropped me off like some stray dog. The longer I’m here, the more I realise he did me a favour. He didn’t dump me on you...” you wince as he pulls his hand away from his chest and opens it to cradle your face, “he gave me you.” 

“Bucky,” you latch onto his wrist but can’t move it. “I think we need some space. Don’t you?” 

“No,” he says flatly. 

“You spend too much time in the same proximity, and it starts to get weird--” 

“No,” he repeats. “I’m right. It’s perfect. You’re strong, you cook, you’re handy, not afraid to get a little dirty,” he slides his hand down to cup your chin. You flinch but can’t pull away. “And you got a nice ass.” 

“Bucky,” you breath and gently shove his chest. “I’m saying to you that you’re wrong. I’m flattered and all but no.” You push harder as he squeezes tighter. You whimper, “ow, let me go. I’m calling Sam-” 

“Shh,” his other hand swoops up to back of your skull. He lurches you closer, bringing you to your nose as he snarls down at you. “You’re not calling anyone.” 

“Bucky--” 

“It’s the way you say my name,” he growls. 

“Please, you’re hurting me--” 

He hushes you again as his thumb rubs behind your jaw. He turns you so your penned in against the counter. You splay your fingers across his chest, dragging them down to his stomach as you push on him. He stands unmoving. 

“Let go--” 

“You. Let go,” he insists calmly. “You built this wall around you. Let it down,” he drops his hand from your head and lets it trail down your back, “let me in.” 

“No, I’m telling you.” You squirm against him. “Stop this, right now.” 

“I know you want me. I found that toy. The little flower, hm?” He tickles along your side, your jaw aching in his grip. “You wanna feel the real thing? Huh?” 

“Please,” you clasp the fabric of his shirt in your fingers. 

“Doll, I want you think about this,” he buries his thumb behind your jaw until you whine. “You’re up here all by yourself. Lonely days, lonelier nights. Anyone could catch on. They could figure out just as fast as I did.” He leans in until you’re nearly bent backwards. “You need a man because any old beast could snatch you up.” 

Your eyes glisten and you search his face. He doesn’t look human. He’s animalistic. His eyes are dark and dilated and his jaw is set with slathering hunger. Your lip trembles. 

"Wouldn't you rather have the beast on your side, doll? Instead of tearing it down?” He purrs and shifts his hand around your chin, bringing his thumb up to poke at your lower lip. “I can be good for you, all you gotta do, is the same.” 

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

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Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

[oomisluvr]

practice

SYNOPSIS: it's the night before your wedding and — wait, should we just skip to the part where we kiss?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, SUPER suggestive but nothing actually happens, sakusa is so in love but so is the reader so it all works out, warning: happy endings, atsumu is pissed lmao, 800 words!

“Should we practice?”

“Practice what?”

“Getting married.” 

Egyptian cotton sheets, layers upon layers of mattress toppers, and memory-foam pillows that feel like literal clouds – KIYOOMI has the softest bed of anyone you’ve ever known. It engulfs you like quicksand, with no hope of escaping. You don’t want to.

“Okay,” you yawn, eyes still closed with your feet kicked up on the wall. “As long as I don’t have to get up.”

“You don’t have to.” He copies your yawn, knocking his foot against yours, “Because I sure as hell don’t want to either.”

That pulls a laugh from you, and Kiyoomi stretches his arm for what feels like miles to find your body buried somewhere in the comforter. He thwacks you in the face instead. You don’t even feel it.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I was looking for your hand.” He finds it, then slots his fingers in the spaces between yours, squeezing lightly, “Found it.”

“You are so stupid.”

“Yeah,” He agrees easily, “But you’re the one marrying me. Which makes you stupid by association.”

You push your foot harder against his to establish dominance. Kiyoomi lets you, and his legs drag loudly down the wall before landing softly in the comforter. It makes a funny, airly little sound that makes you giggle. Your giggle makes Kiyoomi chuckle, until you’re laughing at the fact that he’s laughing, which in turn makes him laugh harder. He squeezes your hand, face flushed a strawberry red.

“Should we skip to the part when we kiss?” He whispers, and it sounds so far away, the baritones of his voice escaping you.

“Nah,” Somehow you find the energy to clamor onto him, collapsing your weight onto his lower half with an unattractive grunt. Something jumps to life beneath you, and you angle your hips in a way that makes Kiyoomi start to sweat. “I think we should skip to the consummation-of-marriage part. Right now.”

“Like, right now, right now?” Kiyoomi’s eyes are closed too, eyelids pressed shut like he’s dreaming. The faint smile on his face tells you that he is. 

“Yes, like, right now, right now, right now.” You grin, making quick work of undoing the buttons of his now-wrinkled shirt. 

“Okay.” He smiles harder, eyes still closed. Your fingers are moving so fast, “That tickles.”

It takes all of your focus to slip the ivory buttons through the narrow silk slits. You fumble with the same button repeatedly, your head so disconnected from your body. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first crawled into his lap, nor can you even recall how you ended up in bed with him. 

You can feel your fingers moving, but you aren’t sure how to control the movement. You give up with a huff, “This isn’t working.”

“I can always keep my shirt on,” Kiyoomi hums, lifting his hands to fidget with the buttons of your pants. You’re straddling him in the way that makes his heart hammer in his chest, looking up at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky, “This, however, must be done away with.”

This would have been romantic if he could actually get your pants off. Unfortunately for both of you, Kiyoomi struggles equally as hard, the buttons of your dress pants can’t seem to stay in his grip. With a sigh, his hands drop. It takes everything in you to not laugh out loud. 

He’s quiet when he asks, “Does the bed feel like it's rocking for you, too?”

“Yeah,” you decide, resting your hands on his covered stomach, where you didn’t quite make it far enough with the buttons, “I’m very drunk.”

“I’m very drunk, too.”

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” You reach to poke his cheek. He catches your hand before you can make it, pulling it to his lips to kiss your palm softly.

“I’m so drunk I don’t even care.”

“This was a terrible dress rehearsal.” You pull away your hand in favor of touching his hair. It was meant to annoy him, as Kiyoomi hates people messing with his curls, but he preens at the attention all the same, “It’s the night before our wedding and we didn’t even fuck.”

With one swift motion, Kiyoomi opens up his arms to pull you into his chest, then rolls over to trap you underneath him. He lands an obnoxious wet kiss on your cheek, smiling softly to himself at the sound of your laughing, “We’ll make up for it tomorrow night.”

You huff and push his face away. He nibbles at your fingers drunkenly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks for marrying me, by the way.”

“Whatever.”

Miya A [11:47]: WHERE ARE YOU Miya A [11:47]: WE CAN'T HAVE A BACHELOR PARTY WITH NO BACHELOR Miya A [00:13]: AND NOW NOBODY CAN FIND Y/N Miya A [00:20]: you fucking freaks i should have known you two would run away together Miya A [00:30]: THIS IS THE LAST TIME I DO ANYTHING NICE FOR YOU Miya A [00:30]: 🖕🖕🖕

hiiii so im not dead! just rly busy w classes/work/internships!

but i have a couple short stories like this that im gonna put out every week for fluff-tober! so uhhhh maybe i'll make a masterlist for that idk

love as always, niko

[xueyidweams]

rambling once again (aventurine x cat-person gn!reader) (this kind of pattern is what I’m talking about.) (read more bc this became quite long, sorry!!!)

Aventurine in his life of working for the IPC has come across a lot of stealers or kids trying to find their food for the day. he usually gives them some money and send them on their way. however, he really didn’t expect for someone to try and rob him in Penacony, in the dreamscape no less. Somehow he didn’t sense the man hurling himself towards him and grunted in surprise as he was pushed down, before he could even open his eyes the man was off of him and running away with claw marks all over him.

dumbfounded, he gets up and looks around, only to find two cat eyes staring at him… except they weren’t a cat… well.. half cat half person? He thought the species went extinct long ago. though, you were living proof of the opposite. you helped him sit up, he felt your claws brush against his knuckles and you felt the coolness of his rings on your paw-hand. observing his every move with utmost attention, your feline eyes following his every mimic and body movement.

“well thank you kind stranger—“ you accidentally cut him off as you smell him closely and realize who he is, he smells just like those bastards from the IPC! way too rich to be true smelling! your ears curl backwards and you pull yourself away hastily as you run away from him. He blinks as he sees you run, so fast… is this why the IPC hunts you all down like you’re all one of a kind? He yells after you, “Hey wait! just listen to me, please!“ you look back at him, your teeth snared and your pupils as slanted as they can be, “leave me alone IPC scum!”

you turn a few corners and your eyes widen in horror to see a dead end… what the hell, you know this place like the back of your hand! did they build this just now or have you been hanging in the unfinished part for way too long? the hairs on your tail stand up and your ears curl back as you hear his footsteps, taking a step back your back meets the wall with an oomph.

“Hey look— don’t be so hostile, we don’t have to be enemies. you can trust me.” yeah right. with those eyes? they’re unnervingly pretty and somehow frightening. your gut is telling you to run but your heart is hammering way too fast in your chest and the sound is drowning out his voice and you feel like everything you’ve had to endure to not fall into IPC’s slimy hands again has all been for nothing and—

you feel a hand on your arm, you look up and meet his eyes. then you feel the warm tears staining your cheeks, your tail hugs your leg as your ears droop, “look. please don’t give me up to them, i’ll literally do anything. do you want any dirty work done? i can do it! please just leave me alone, i don’t want to go back i can’t go back!” you see his eyes… soften somehow. to him, you’re a stark reminder of who he was, maybe still is. the way you fight so hard to protect the most precious thing to you, your freedom reminds him so much of the unsavory memories that he doesn’t notice he is squeezing your arm a bit hard and some of the fur is stuck on his rings. you flinch and grimace and he untangles your fur from his rings, he pulls his hands off of you.

he coughs in his hand and looks at you once more, voice softer yet firm. “im not going to hurt you or give you up. that’s not my job anyways. i just wanted to thank you, for helping even though it could put me in serious hot water. cats hate water right?” you half rolls your eyes at his teasing remark, “yeah yeah pretty boy, cough up some cash if you want to thank me. thanks for not turning me in but empty sentiments won’t feed me when i have to wake up from this dream.”

he smiles and takes off the ring from his index finger, he looks at you, “can i hold your hand?” you feel a slight warmness spreading through your face and squint your eyes, “fine but don’t try anything funny!” he chuckles and takes your hand in his gently, “wouldn’t dream of it.” he slips the ring on your ring finger, winking at you. “you can sell this for at least five hundred thousand credits, plenty to eat hm?” you look at your finger, the ring and at him as your heart does summersaults in your ribcage. you’ve never… even as a tease you’ve never been flirted with this is—

he takes advantage of your stupor and strokes your shoulder, squeezes slightly and gives you a smile. “you haven’t seen me and i haven’t seen you, yes?” you nod, speechless but thankful. he turns around and you finally get your voice back, “wait!” he looks back, his eyes watching you with interest. he raises his eyebrows, “thank you. i dont know what else to say but i’ll never forget this. and i wasnt’… joking when i said i could do your dirty work. so if you need something and i can get it done, i’ll do it free of charge.” you manage to tumble out as your voice trembles a bit, still shocked. his smile returns, “I’ll think about it, maybe fate will make us cross paths again huh?” he gives a little wave and starts walking, “oh also, do take care of your fur, it’s rather soft.”

you look dumbfounded, your face morphing from surprised to angry to flustered but he has already left. you look at your ring finger again and play with the ring, maybe the aeons have pitied you now?

‘he’s really pretty…’

you think to yourself as you pocket the ring and think of all the fish, meat and bread you’re gonna eat. and maybe you’ll try that soul glad thing.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Gaps 3

Yandere Platonic Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This is a yandere work, and as such, contains themes of obsession and unhealthy relationships. This particular snippet from Gaps will be an escalation, since this is a series, so trigger warning for kidnapping, non-consensual drugging, obsessive behaviors and manipulation.

There was a half full bottle of psychiatric meds in the glove box of your car. You have absolutely no clue when this got there, buried as it was under your insurance information, registration, and car owners manual, but it was there.

You turn the bottle over in your hands, reading the small label. Prazosin. You were glad to have some extra, in case Bruce hadn’t been able to get your refill this month. He had been good about it, the past couple of months while you waited for your appointment at the DMV, but it was always good to have spares, just in case. And something in your stomach urged you not to rely on the billionaire too much.

You pocket the bottle of pills. Sure, your script had been changed from prazosin to nitrazepam, by Dr. Leslie Thompkins since she was the only person that would treat you without an ID, but you didn’t like how the nitrazepam left you sluggish the next morning. You also didn’t like the thought of just how vulnerable you would be, in such a deep sleep.

Your cell phone rings. You pick up on the first ring, humming.

“(Y/N).” It was Damian. A bit of a surprise, since he didn’t really seek you out, but not an entirely unwelcome one. “You used to have a cat, correct?”

You snort. Of course one of the few times Damian calls you, it was about an animal. You didn’t expect anything less.

“Yeah. I had a Maine Coon kitten for a while before I moved. She was the sweetest little thing too, would always climb onto my shoulders whenever I got home from work.”

“What happened to her?”

“When I moved, I had to give her to my roommate. I visit her whenever I go to Bludhaven.” You explain, beginning your nightly routine. You brush the knots out of your hair, root around for your pajamas, drop two tablets in your hand.

“I see. I’m sorry you had to leave her behind.”

You smile, glancing at the time. The two tablets go down easy, and you double and triple check your locks. In Gotham, it didn’t hurt to be vigilant.

“It’s not a problem. I do have work tomorrow, so I’m gonna turn in, okay?”

“Of course. Get some rest, (Y/N).” He says it like it’s practically a demand, and you laugh when the line goes dead.

You drift off to sleep, eventually, your limbs heavy and numb.

——————

Your woken up by the sound of your bedroom door creaking open. Your heart stops, before thundering in your chest, slamming fast against your ribs.

Your mind races, and you force yourself to breath slow and deep, feigning sleep. The average thief wouldn’t bother to kill a sleeping person, but who knew what would happen if they thought there were witnesses. Carefully, you shift, making sure the movement looked to be the shifting of a sleeping body.

There’s a sound of crackling above you, and you don’t know what that means before the intruder speaks.

“You sure you got the dosage right? They’re moving around a lot for someone who’s sedated.” A modulated voice, indistinguishable thanks to the static. Your stomach drops, and it takes everything you have not to stiffen in terror. No average thief would have a fucking voice modulator. And what did they mean, the dosage? What the fuck did they mean?

Your fingers close around the handle of the small folding knife you kept under your pillow.

“It’s not full sedation. They’ll sleep deeply enough that we can move freely, but too high of a dosage would cause issues.” A low, gravelly voice and you feel your breath hitch. Both voices go quiet.

You hear a soft rattle as a pill bottle is picked up. Your heart hammers in your throat. You can’t remember which bottle of meds was by your bedside.

“Didn’t you get them put on nitrazepam?”

“Yes.”

“Old man, this isn’t nitrazepam. It’s an old script of prazosin.”

Silence. Deafening silence. Your eyes snap open.

You don’t even give yourself time to process the fact that there were two of Gotham’s vigilantes in your room. You don’t give yourself time to panic, or feel betrayed, because if you do, you won’t stop. You’ll be frozen and defenseless and unable to do anything.

You lunge up, throwing the blankets off yourself, and you try to twist away when the goddamn Red Hood lunges to catch you, only for his arm to wrap around your waist, yanking you back. The small fold out knife clatters to the ground, and a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Why don’t we all just cool off, yeah? No more stabbing attempts.” He sounds almost amused, but there’s an edge of danger in his voice that makes you shudder. He releases you, and you stagger away from him.

Batman hovers in the corner of the room, and even though he is the furthest from you, he feels so much closer.

“You got my script changed. Why?” Your voice is trembling, and you grimace. You don’t like the way you sound far too vulnerable.

“The old man is paranoid as hell, that’s why.” Hood grumbles, crossing his arms. He leans back, giving you space, and even though you know you aren’t any safer, you appreciate it.

“Hood. Now is not the time.” Batman growls, and Hood snorts.

“When would be the time old man? We would have avoided all of this if we had just gone with my plan.” Hood points out. You have no idea what he means.

“They weren’t ready.” Batman snaps, and you don’t know what that means. “This isn’t the place for this discussion, Hood.”

He turns to you, and for a moment, hesitates. The moment passes, and he lifts his hands, tugging back his cowl.

You stare. Staring back at you with intense blue eyes is Bruce Wayne.

So many things click in your mind. The inexplicable cancelling of your appointments. The paranoia. The way you had been struggling to work past the constant fear you were being watched. The way your things went missing when you needed them.

“(Y/N), I know you’re confused right now. Just let me explain.” Bruce says gently, and you shake your head, backing up.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now. You.. how long have you been breaking into my apartment? How long have you been using my meds to do it? And why?!”

“(Y/N), you barely manage to function on a day to day basis. I was just insuring your safety.”

“My safety?! Arguably I would be even more vulnerable SEDATED in an apartment in Gotham? Why do you think I check my locks so often? Why I have lists, of every possible thing I could need? I KNOW how to take care of myself, but clearly I made some sort of mistake when met all of you!” You shriek, and there are hot, ugly tears streaming down your face.

You didn’t need this, you didn’t need him, and you certainly did not need him pulling the strings on your life.

“Alright, you clearly can’t handle this old man.” Hood turns to you, arms crossed. “Listen, I get it. Batman’s a controlling, manipulative bastard. But we aren’t having this discussion here.”

You yell when his hand closes around your arm, and raise your hand to slap him away. He tugs you forward, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there, and you yell.

A sharp pain in your neck, and your vision blurs.

You feel your knees buckle, feel yourself start to sag.

Gloved hands hold you up, and your head spins. Armored arms scoop you up, and you push at the thick Kevlar.

The last thing you see before unconsciousness takes you is white lenses staring down.

[guppydoll]

This Isn't Barbie Land: Chapter 2

Ken x Fem!Reader

>:3 hehehehe. I've been in a bit of a writers block but here is chapter 2. Also don't hate me but it's left on a cliff hanger! I felt bad for no updating as much as I want to but I figured I give you all this teaser and how much fun chapter 3 is gonna be hehehehehe

I'll be completely honest this has been super hard to write. I want to just get it out but damn writing Ken is just exhausting. I also have a little plot in my head but I'm making it up as it goes. I'm used to writing something cute but don't worry my angsty hands will be ruining all of their fun shortly

This is 18+

Warnings: porn watching, almost smut, making out

Word Count: 2172

Ken didn’t expect that there was so much to being a real person. Drinking actual liquid, eating real food, and actually sleeping and time not passing by magically. He wanted to do everything with you. When you had made a makeshift bed on the couch for him, he ended up sneaking into your bed after you had fallen asleep. Which ended up in him being smacked in the head with a pillow when you woke up. Apparently there were some things people did alone, e.i. bathing.

He learned that when he barged in on you showering, naked and ready to join, instead of the “Hi Ken!” he expected you had screamed at him to get out. Ken also learned that being nude in front of each other wasn’t normal either. When you had exited the shower he had been waiting for you, still naked. Again, to his surprise, you slammed the bathroom door shut and hid from him. He tried to coax you out but you made it very clear that until he was clothed you weren’t coming out.

You ended up giving him your laptop and told him he could look up any questions he had when you went to work. Ken hated you leaving, you were gone for what felt like an eternity. What made it worse, by the time you got back you were too tired to do anything and went straight to bed. You explained to him that your job was only open late. You went to work at 3pm and arrived back at 11pm. Ken would try to sleep while you were gone but he just couldn’t. Why couldn’t you just stay home with him.

He moping on the couch, the laptop in front of him playing a video on horses. He had only been in the real world for a week and you had worked every single day. He partially understood why you felt so lonely, you were busy every single day working yourself to the bone. He snatched up the laptop and began typing away in Google.

Things to do for your girl after she’s had a stressful week

Ken gasped when the search engine corrected the word girl to girlfriend. Did those mean the same thing? His heart had that weird feeling again. Hammering away in his chest so fast he swore it would burst. 

It didn’t take long before Ken had fallen down a rabbit hole of “Things to do for your girlfriend”. Some articles said to cuddle and kiss her, while another mentioned cooking a romantic dinner for her. Another said to buy her a gift, a necklace or chocolates. Ken didn’t know how to cook or have any money, and the thought of holding you tight caused his heart to soar. He began typing away once more. 

Romantic dinners when you can’t cook

A list of restaurants nearby showed. He could take you to dinner but what would you do afterwards? You had mentioned something about dinner first then something else. A switch flipped in his brain, you said he should take you to dinner before beach sex. He had forgotten all about that! He had been meaning to ask you about what beach sex was earlier but you had been so busy he was more focused on getting to know you first in the small time he had with you. Ken knew everything there was about the beach and yet beach sex didn’t ring any bells. You had made it seem that beach sex comes after dinner, and if dinner would help relax you then beach sex must do the same thing.

Beach Sex

Ken clicked the first link there and it led him to a lot of videos. Videos of beach sex. It couldn’t hurt to watch just one, this was for you after all.

~~~~~~~~

It had been another exhausting night but you were thankful your seven day stretch was over and you had a full five day weekend. You knew you had to shop for groceries seeing as you were feeding two mouths now and also stop by the mall to buy Ken some clothes. He had only moved in with the clothes on his back and you hadn’t had time to pick some up for him. At least you had an obsession with men’s clothes for pajamas so at least Ken didn’t have to go naked. You cursed a little, remembering him being butt ass naked in front of you when you had been in the shower. You had expected a doll body but nope, he was fully equipped. You also had to give it to him, he was equipped very well. 

“Ken, I’m home.” You opened the door of your apartment, kicking off your heels and bracing yourself for the immediate bear hug Ken always gave. Instead you were greeted to the sight of Ken, bug eyed watching your laptop, with loud moans and slapping noises blaring from its speakers. He was watching porn. Ken was watching fucking porn.

The blonde quickly paused the video and jumped up, rushing towards you. You wanted to shrink, avoiding looking anywhere near his nether regions, scared of what was most certainly there.

“You’re home already!” Ken beamed. “I lost track of time! I wanted to set up a surprise for you before you got back!”

“That’s very sweet of you Ken…” Excuses rushed through your brain, trying to find one that would allow you to lock yourself in your room.

“I want to say thank you for letting me stay, so I was looking things up on the internet websites that I could do.”

You wanted to scream, the internet was the wild west. Of course Ken would come across porn, you just didn’t think you’d walk in on him watching it. At least it had just been porn and not some insane website filled with awful garbage or a scam website that would fill your computer with viruses. 

The gentle touch of Ken’s hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear pulled you from your thoughts. You looked into his eyes as he softly dragged his fingers over your cheek, then your jaw making you swallow hard. Ken’s face was stern and focused as his fingers drifted down your neck, his palm just ghosting over it.

“Ken? W-what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to help you relax.”

“Ah. Um, thank you Ken.”  He was not relaxing you in the slightest. You pushed his hand away and began inching towards the bathroom. “But I’m gonna go shower, hehe you know how sweaty I get at work.”

“No.” Ken grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. The look he had was intense, you didn’t know how to react. You couldn’t meet his eyes, a blush crawling up your neck. You were used to his big smiles and shining eyes, not this.

“Ken..”

“I can’t cook for you or buy you gifts, but I can hold you. Kiss you. Fuck you.”

You would be lying if you hadn’t been eyeing Ken up for the past week. He was hot. He never wore a shirt or when he did it was always an open shirt. He would flex at you “subtly” whenever the two of you chatted. On top of that he was sweet and excitable, and so so beautiful. It was a small crush, now that crush just said he could fuck you.

“I looked up what beach sex was and in the videos they kept calling it fucking and the man said he would fuck the lady. So I searched what fucking meant and if that could help relax you. I learned sex, not just beach sex, can be therapeutic.” Ken grinned, very proud of the big word he used.

  “Ken, it’s very sweet that you want to help me relax but sex isn’t something we should do together. Those people are couples, usually, sometimes not but that's not the point.”

“But you're my girl, apparently that's another word for girlfriend.” Ken pouted, stepping even closer to you.

“That’s not what that means in our context, Ken.” You stepped back, bumping into the door behind you. Damn, you really had failed at escaping.

“But it fits how I see you!”

“Ken you really only known me for a few days, you don’t-”

“But I’m your doll!” Ken cut you off, stepping even closer, trapping you against the door. You watched him fidget with his hands before he rested them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

You opened your mouth to protest again but Ken forced his mouth onto yours. The kiss was terrible. Sloppy and teeth clicking together. He was pressing too hard, letting neither of your lips move in sync. You slapped his arms sporadically trying to get his attention but he was lost in the kiss, if you could call it that. He finally pulled away for air and looked down at you with pupils blown wide and an even wider smile.

“Wow.” He moaned and you squeezed your legs tight. His voice was like honey and you needed to hear more.

“Ken..” You gasped, dumbstruck with what just happened. You were speechless as the blonde held you in his arms, who also noticed your hesitance. He took your hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beating of his heart.

“When I look at you, I feel things I don’t understand. When I was watching those videos, I kept thinking about you. I also learned that another name for sex is making love. I want to make you feel loved. That’s the reason why I wanted to find you.” Ken leaned in close to you again, hot breath tickling your face.

Fuck it, you had nothing to lose. You placed your hand on his cheek, leaning towards him and kissing yourself. Ken tried to push hard again but you pulled away to look at him.

“Gently Ken, let me show you.”

He kissed you again but softer, letting you take the lead. You ran your tongue on his bottom lip causing him to gasp. You took the advantage and pushed your tongue into his mouth. You swallowed the low groan he made, allowing him to push you against your apartment door.

“Y/N…”

Ken’s moans were music to your ears and you continued kissing along his jaw and down his neck. You bit down on his pulse and Ken bucked his hips into yours, forcing a whine from you.

“Bedroom. Now.” 

“Okay!” Ken didn’t even struggle, lifting you with ease and carrying you straight to your bedroom. 

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed and jumped back into kissing you. Ken was a faster learner, it didn’t take long before he was the one in charge of the kiss. His large hands roamed your body and you mimicked what you had done to him earlier, kissing along your neck and biting hard hard. He licked at the spot you knew that a mark was gonna form in the morning but that didn’t matter now. Ken was all that mattered.

“Pants off.” You fiddled with Ken’s belt and made a mental note to thank him for rarely wearing shirts. Ken excitedly hopped off the bed and dropped his jeans with record speed until he was on you again. He was excited, so excited he wasn’t allowing you to breathe. It had been so long since someone had smothered you with this amount of love. You actually weren’t sure if you’ve ever been shown this amount of love before. 

Ken was touching you but not the same other men had. He was soft, admiring your bumps and curves. He didn’t fight with your dress, leaving it on, not even pushing his hands up the skirt. His hands ghosted over your breasts afraid to touch them. You had to shove his hands down onto you just so you could half of the friction you desired. 

“Ken… let me get out of my clothes.”

Ken was a good listener, pulling back immediately. You finally got to admire the man in front of you. His face was flushed and a smile was plastered over it. Ken’s chest looked fake, the perfect contour of each muscle was mesmerizing. You sat up, one hand behind you finding your dress’s zipper and the other running down his chest. You paused at his navel and you played with the waistband of his boxers. His cock was straining hard against the fabric, begging to be touched. You danced your fingers over the bulge, forcing a whimper from Ken.

You retracted your hand, looking up at Ken. His baby blue eyes were watery now, shifting uncomfortably from the lack of your touch. You laughed and peeled off your dress, thankful for the constrictive clothing to be gone. Ken’s eyes looked as if they were going to explode from his head as he watched you unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts. This was gonna be fun.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag List!

@stanfanfiction

@lubunnii

@fethavila

@uncle-eggy

[kedsandtubesocks]

baseball spring training started & I miss Gojo so here we are lol, this is dedicated to @stellamancer @seiwas & @vigilante-izuku for always supporting my baseball Gojo brainrot, love you babes

01: change-up.

baseball player!gojo x reader

-

The weather is gorgeous.

“A wonderful day for baseball,” the lady checking your bag into the stadium even grinned when she told you that.

You don’t know baseball. Didn’t even know spring training was a thing. Yet with the amount of fans in the smaller stadium, and the cluster of photographers and news reporters lining the media area, you could’ve sworn this is a regular game.

And it’s all because of one man, the same man you met at a coffee shop.

Satoru Gojo - born on December 7 1989.

Thankfully you didn’t have to stare at the wiki page for long because every sports outlet online happily was ready to tell you more about him.

He’s considered a once in a lifetime player. He hit a home run once where the ball busted out of the Tokyo Dome. He broke a pitching record his first season in Japan’s Major leagues. He has one of the highest batting averages a pitcher can have.

As a pitcher you learn he is known for his notorious changeup.

It’s a type of pitch that relies on deception, tricks a player into believing a fast pitch approaches only for the ball to change speed and throw off the batter. You can’t wrap your mind around a ball even being able to do that.

But you couldn’t help but think how it fits Gojo. This seemingly way too tall and annoyingly charming guy turns out to be an absolute mega star of an athlete doesn’t feel real.

Because now here you are at a baseball spring training game not even knowing a single clue about the sport.

Currently waiting for the game to start, you scroll through the ESPN page and accidentally press a video attached to his section. It starts up a recent interview of him at a talk show. The sigh of him in a sleek gorgeous deep navy suit that brings out his eyes has you memorized. Then hearing him talk, hearing him laugh through your phone breaks the spell.

You quickly scramble out of the article, click away all open tabs, even clear your history and wonder if you should maybe just leave.

He did beg you to come see him, but how would he even know if you came…

That’s when the team line ups are called.

In the 00 jersey, batting second and not pitching this game, the announcement of Satoru Gojo’s name makes the crowd erupt in a frenzy shocking you.

A kid behind you, with absolute adoration in his voice, excitedly tells his dad how amazing Gojo is and how this year their team had to make it to the championship because of him.

Your eyes zone in on the man constantly trying to pay for your coffee shop order.

He even paid the poor barista to make a messy baseball sugar cookie with a sad face on it as an apology for you.

Now he struts onto the field drawing all the attention to him, yours included. It’s unfair how handsome Gojo looks in the uniform that highlights his tall frame and broad shoulders. He also wears sleek sunglasses that block his eyes.

Once on the line with the rest of his teammates, Gojo wearing the most charming smile takes off his hat and nods his head ever so slightly to the reception given to him. His face turns to skim the crowd in front of him, smiling and waving at everyone.

That is until he spots you.

You feel caught red handed and your heart hammers inside your chest so rapidly.

Suddenly Gojo slides his sunglasses down and blatantly stares at you. You regret sitting so close in the arena because now his twinkling sky blue eyes refuse to let his gaze leave yours.

Then, with the most amused grin, he winks at you and slides his glasses back on.

You’re horrified, almost squawk, and think about walking to sit on the opposing team’s side. But it’s because of all the nasty butterflies trying to infest your stomach.

Whatever was on your face, whatever reaction you made, suddenly has Gojo laughing.

It’s a bright thing he tries covering up by coughing, but you saw it. Even his teammate standing beside him notices.

Even with gorgeous weather, the wonderful energy of the crowd so eager for the game to start… watching Gojo, finally taking in this new reality in, feels like something dangerous is starting to brew in your chest.

[thefallennightmare]

Can I just say that you have literally become my favorite writer on this app and I don’t mean it lightly. By the time you see this, I hope you’re having an amazing day.

If I could request a Nicholas Ruffilo headcanon please? where the reader has been wanting to get a Bad Omens inspired tattoo and is talking about it to her friend while in line for a meet and greet with said band, but can’t find a good enough artist in her opinion. Nicholas overhears this and decides to do the tattoo for her, and after finishing the tattoo decides to sign it as well as a memento.

@missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera @whenthesummerdies @exitwoundsx @lookwhatitcost @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @xxkittenkissesxx @madomens @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @pathion @thisbicc @blueskylinesx @cncohshit @collidewiththesavannah

Your sweet words brought a smile to my face! thank you love!

You couldn't believe this was happening.

Even when you felt the needle of the tattoo gun against your skin and those dark eyes glancing up at you every so often.

You never expected what was only supposed to be a meet and greet with Bad Omens to turn into a private tattoo after the show.

While you were waiting in line for the meet and greet, Nicholas couldn't help but overhear you talking to your friend about how you couldn't find the perfect artist to do your Bad Omens inspired tattoo.

Nicholas was immediately taken by you, the sight of your smile taking his breath away, so he didn't even think twice about offering to do your tattoo. He loved the idea of the design and you knew if anyone could do justice, it was him.

Your heart hammered in your chest, loud and fast, as Nichola's fingers grazed over the skin of your thigh, and the close proximity made your cheeks burn with a blaze of heat.

The two of you made small talk, him getting to know you, and when he was almost finishing up the tattoo you could feel your heart drop. You didn't want the night to end. The subtle flirting every so often told you that Nicholas didn't want it to end either.

"You know," you said slowly. "We never talked about how I would pay you for this."

Nicholas' eyes flashed dark as he looked up at you and you tracked every movement of his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips.

"I can think of something," he suggested while setting the tattoo gun down.

Looking at the fresh ink, you broke out in a huge smile when you realized he brought your idea to life.

You were so entranced with it and seeing that he also signed the tattoo, you almost didn't hear what he said.

"Wh-what?" You asked, breath hitching in your throat.

He slowly rose to his feet so he could lean over you, who sat on the couch in the green room. His finger traced your cheekbone. You desperately wanted to close the distance between you two but were afraid to make the first move.

"I think you should come back to my hotel room tonight. I can give you pointers on tattoos aftercare."

You bit your lip and slowly nodded.

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 10 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12

Contains mild kink (under-negotiated and going slightly wrong—all for plotty purposes, honest!)

(also on AO3 here)

...

Steve POV continued

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t think about it now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the quivering beams of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab one end of the rope, loop it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, despite longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Stevie, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Fuck!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

“How?”

“Robin said there was a track, remember? Shit, shit, shit! Turn the flashlight off. Now.”

Eddie obeys. Pitch darkness slams down. “Fine,” says Steve, struggling to keep it together. “You gotta untie me, man.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Cold sweat carves rivulets down the back of Steve’s neck, soaking the hair as his nape, while Eddie fumbles at the rope. Eddie’s frantic, singsong voice unsettles Steve further: “Nooooo. Can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You tied the dumb things? How hard can it be!”

“Stop struggling. You’re making the knots tighter.” 

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t realized he was doing that. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Eddie switches the flashlight back on. 

“Are you insane?” hisses Steve.

“Not the expert I thought I was, okay? I’m gonna have to slice them. Don’t wanna slice you.” Eddie retrieves a flick-knife from his back pocket, starts hacking above Steve’s right wrist. “Aaaaargh! You blunted this thing slashing your way through that goddamn jungle.”

“Somebody had to carve a path for you two great wusses. Just… Don’t be a klutz.”

“Aaaaah, I suck at this, Stevie. I don’t like this. I don’t like this.”

Neither does Steve. An engine revs and grinds, waaaay too close. “Turn the stupid light off. Go! Warn Robin. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“But—”

“DO IT!” Steve’s furious desperation hits home. Eddie kills the flashlight, leaving Steve tethered by the wrists. Totally helpless.

Calm down, calm down. Focus, Harrington. Free yourself and then you can help them.

He grits his teeth, tugs again at the ropes. They simply bite deeper into his flesh. Nevertheless, Eddie has sawed partially through the rope above his right wrist. He throws everything into that, shoulder and biceps burning, until…

Snap.

His right wrist flies free, and he slumps forward into the darkness. Which makes the bonds around his left wrist snare super-tight, like he was caught in an animal trap.

Ooow! Oh great, just great.

He staggers upright to slacken the remaining rope, gives it a single strenuous tug then pulls short, gasping. At this rate, he’s gonna squeeze his own goddamn hand off.

He hears murmured voices—Eddie? Robin? Two beams of dusky white light streak through the small windows of the cabin—headlamps!?! 

His increasingly feeble struggles dry up. Whoever is coming is nearly here, and he wants to punch something, to kick something. Anything! He’d do anything to protect Eddie and Robin. Anything… Anything.

Giddiness swirls through his body like a mist. He’s nearly bent double, before the wrench through his shoulder revives him. Ow, Jesus! He scrambles to find his footing, to lighten the burden on his shoulder socket, though he’s still light-headed, his chest tight and shuddering. Are the army here? Have Robin and Eddie been taken? Oh God, oh God!

Something that feels like a mini lightning-storm consumes his brain, echoed by a deafening clap of thunder, and then…

Nothing.

…

Eddie POV

Eddie dips around the wavering beams of the slowly approaching headlights. He dashes into the bunkroom, where Robin is asleep.

In the gloom, he grabs her shoulder, shakes her. “Robin!” 

“Mind the kittens… Huh? Shit, sorry, dreaming. What the—”

Eddie flattens his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he hisses.

“Shit-birds, what do we…” Robin sits up, slides to her feet. Her attention swings to Steve’s empty bunk. “Where is he?”

“Long story. Listen, you gotta run. Now. Hide.”

“Where? There’s only one way out.” Her arms flap everywhere. “Where’s Steve, Eddie?” 

“Gonna get him. Come on!”

They sidle out of the bunkroom, keeping tight to the cabin and the shadows. The revs from the vehicle are hard-by. “Hide in the trees,” says Eddie. “Go.”

“Not without Steve! Where is… Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Two headlight beams dazzle, as the vehicle enters the camp. A few fleeting heartbeats later, lightning forks across the sky, echoed by a deafening thunderclap. As Eddie and Robin charge deeper into the shadows, the heavens literally crack apart and a wall of rain slams down. Eddie sprints for the cabin where he left Steve, already soaked to the skin, no idea if Robin followed.

“Steve?” he whispers. “Steve! Shit! Shiiiiit!” Blundering in the dark, he discovers Steve’s completely out of it, dangling limply from one wrist. Eddie’s clumsily bracing his weight, when a flashlight sets him squinting, and a large figure blocks the doorway.

It’s all over.

Somebody roars, “What the hell is going on?” 

It sounds like Chief Hopper.

Eddie’s so stunned that he almost lets Steve drop. Fortunately, Hopper is already there—or, at least, some tall, lean, mean-looking dude that resembles him. Whoever he is, he gets his arms around Steve, while elbowing Eddie out of the way.

“Eddie? What? Why? What did you do to him? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?” Robin, holding the light, sounds ten times angrier than the thunder.

“It… uh, it wasn’t like that.” Eddie wrings his sopping hair. “I can explain?”

“Save it, Munson,” mutters the Hopper-look-alike, who’s already produced a vicious-looking blade and is hacking Steve free. Then he scoops one arm under Steve’s knees, and with a grunt, he picks him up.

“You got beds somewhere?” asks Hopper. Robin nods, before leading the way out into the easing rain.

Part 11

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

[yanderemommabean]

In yyour Elias-fic (that man has my heart in a chokehold rn), he mention in his thoughts waiting for a new division to be made where he'd have read er for himself. And how terrifying would that not be?

Sure, the personnel has always been a bit on the cold and clinical side, more focused on their end goal. Hell, that's why you had to visit so often to begin with, but, as you wake up dizzy and tied up, this must be too far even for them, right?

They've always kept an eye out on your visits, so Nothing went too far, so they wouldn't just... Toss you in like this, right?

But No matter how much you think, you're still here, tied up, with Elias entering in an a normally good mood.

Would he do something to you? You've seen him hurt others, but he's always been to attentive to you, so sweet, maybe he'll be as shocked to see you like this? Maybe he'll simply untie you and that?'s it?

But the look in his eyes as he approaches ypou makes that desperate hope wither.

You’ll beg to be let go, to go home, that they can’t do this to you, but you simply get cold and stern words in return as Elias giggles like a maniac and wraps his arms around you.

“You’re dead, love. Gone. Vanished. No one knows your whereabouts anymore but me and my dear doctor friends”.

His hands slide up under your shirt, pressing right against your heart as it hammers against your ribcage. They wouldn’t do this right?! This just has to be some test for Elias to pass! But as the doors lock and the jingling keys fade, you begin to realize with rapt horror what’s happened.

“Such a delicate little heart you have. Fluttering so fast like a humming bird. Feeling it beating like this against my hand, your warm skin, oh it’s doing wonders for me”.

His lips form a smile as he kisses just behind your ear, allowing his hands to slowly wander over your chest and abdomen as he holds you, breathing deeply to truly savor your scent. “I ever tell you how much I miss your smell? It’s always so calming to me. On nights you weren’t able to visit it kept me from killing the staff out of sheer rage”.

You shudder, his lips kissing down to your shoulder as his hands map out your body, slow and sensual like you two were lovers in a private hotel rather than two captives being tested on for government gain.

“D-don’t you think it’s a bit much to kidnap someone and hold them here like this? Like animals?” You pipe up, tensing when his hands try to dip into the back of your pants and tease the back of your hips.

“Mmm it might be a bit annoying, but I promise, you won’t be hurt here. I was told if I wanted my own sector to obey and not misbehave, and in return I’d get to have you with me. I think a bit of annoying security is worth that”.

His teeth come to nip at your ear, hands fully sliding into the back of your pants so he can squeeze the meat of your ass and your thighs as he presses you forward against a wall. “Enough boring work talk. I’ve missed you, you know? And now I get to reintroduce myself and my touch to this wonderful body of yours”.

(-Mommabean, hope this was ok! ❤️)

[annalu86]

First date

“Yeah. I do.”

They stood in Grey’s office smiling at each other for a few more moments before Lucy took a big deep breath.

“Right, I should let you finish” she reaches her hand out and grazes her fingers over his elbow. The motion is quick as a flash but she watches his breath hitch and his eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’ve got hours of work left and you…” he smiled broadly “are a distraction”

Lucy couldn’t believe how quickly and easily they were falling into open flirting with each other. She took three slow steps back, neither of them breaking eye contact. She paused at the door and took another deep breath before walking out of the room and making her way out of the building.

Before she had even got to her car she had her phone in her hand.

Lucy: so, this date. What are you thinking we should do?

The three little dots spring up instantly and Lucy grins knowing he must have had his phone in his hands to respond that fast.

Tim: how about we decide when first?

Before she can reply the dots are back

Tim: if I suggest tomorrow does that make me look eager?

Lucy laughs as she climbs into her car

Lucy: a little eager but I’m not mad about it!

Tim: good because I am eager.

Lucy: you are adorable

She knows he won’t be able to leave the bait and she’s not disappointed

Tim: I can change my mind you know Chen

Lucy: you don’t intimidate me, sir.

She takes great pleasure in picturing his glitched out face as she watches the dots appear and disappear over and over.

Lucy: how about we talk it through tomorrow. I think I’m distracting you again!

Tim: if I don’t finish this paperwork Grey may never let me leave and we’ll be having our first date in the break room with terrible coffee and Smitty in the corner slurping soup. Talk tomorrow Lucy

Lucy waited for a minute in case Tim had more to say before starting her engine and beginning the journey. The whole way home her mind races. This is actually happening. Finally.

She arrives home and instead of trying to sleep she grabs her laptop, climbs on her bed and starts researching. When she finally drifts off to sleep there are many tabs open, restaurants, hikes and more.

Tim wakes before his alarm the next morning, he dresses quickly. He and Lucy are due in to work at the same time but he can’t help but arrive early, just in case.

He beams when she pulls her car in next to his less than 5 minutes after he arrives at the station. They look at each other through their windows before they both climb out.

His breath catches, his heart hammers. He doesn’t know why he feels more nervous than the night before but in the light of day everything suddenly feels so real.

Lucy is standing in front of him, smiling up at him. He knows he should say something, anything but The stupid grin remains.

“Hi” she sounds as nervous and excited as he feels

“Hi” he manages and they stand there. Neither knowing how to move forward and neither really wanting to break the moment.

Fortuitously a colleague walks past and calls a greeting or Tim feels like they would have stayed like that for the whole shift, dopey smiles and soft eyes. It’s exactly the wake up he needed. He gives himself a little shakes and turns to lead them both into the station.

Just as Tim is about to bring up the topic of their first date Lucy starts “So, I did some research”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm”

“So what do you suggest?” Tim raised an eyebrow

“I’ve got a list of restaurants, classics, fusion” she pauses and looks up at him “romantic”

“I like the sound of that” Tim feels like keeping his relationship with Lucy a secret might be harder than he expected as he reminds himself to take half a step back. They’ve never been good at ‘personal space’ but the building certainly wasn’t crowded, there really was no need to stand quite so close.

“I made a ‘wild card’ list, too” she added, seemingly unaware of his inner thoughts as she instantly fills the gap back up with a small step forward. “Paintball, shooting range. Those kinds of things, your kind of activities”

He’d kiss her if he could. He will kiss her, not right now but this date is going to have to happen sooner rather than later.

“Send me your lists and the nights you’re free this week” he captures her gaze “I’ll do the rest”

“Ok” she holds his gaze

“I have to go, be safe.” He turns and walks off quickly.

Lucy sends him the lists as promised. He’s managed to find 10 minutes in his day to sit down at his desk and open his email. The message begins:

Lucy: It feels like we’ve waited so long for this, I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m free tomorrow night, I don’t care where we go or what we do. Let’s just not wait anymore.

For a moment Tim couldn’t breathe, the moment Lucy had told him he was the most important relationship in her life had felt, surreal, magical. It seemed like a dream. These reminders that what they were doing meant as much to her as it did to him proved that this was all real.

Tim decided then that he would make this first date special and to do that he needed help.

Aaron was minding his own business, he had paperwork to fill in. So much paperwork.

It meant that when Sergeant Bradford arrived at his desk he was completely unprepared.

“I have a job for you” the gruff voice came from behind his shoulder and he jumped sending papers skidding across the desk.

Aaron scrambled to pull the pieces of paper back into a neat pile “Sir, I’m… yes ok, of course sir.” He turned and looked up into the face of the much taller man “what do you need” finally feeling composed.

“You have connections” Aaron blinked, was that supposed to be a question

“You need my sword guys number?” He tried “I’m not sure if my mom would be happy for me to expense another private jet just yet.”

Tim just glared at him, Aaron was getting used to this look on Tim’s. It was his companion for most of his day.

“Restaurants” was all Tim said, his expression not changing. Aaron smiled broadly, this was his world. His area of expertise.

“Sure! I’ve got contacts at some of the best places in town” his glow of pride didn’t last long as Tim continued to stare

“Tomorrow night, 8pm.” Tim handed him a piece of paper. Aaron opened it, it simply had the names of two restaurants. “One of those”

Aaron’s eyes widened, two of the hardest to get into and most romantic restaurants in the city “for how many?”

Tim’s only response was to glare harder.

“Two, of course” Aaron spluttered “I’ll make some calls” he sat back down at his desk and took out his phone. He looked back up into his sergeant’s face to see it soften a little.

“Thanks Thorsen”

“Any time” Aaron called to his receding back

Well, thought Aaron, they’ve finally done it!

[sweet-villain]

Just Hanging By The Moment With You ~ S.H

Words : 5.4k

Author's note : This was so adorable, you are adorable too. I get the little snort. It's cute.

@babyloutattoo89 @palomam18 @becca-alexa @sadbitchfangirl @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @steddieandstonathansprincess @haileighboi @bookshelf-dust @moonchildquinn

@strangerfreak asked:

Idea for fluff!! I think this could be short. When Steve meet reader first time, fast falling in love- blah blah blah- then couple months later, they been together and going strong. Whatever Steve making a joke and first time to hear her laughing and snorting! Like a adorable snorting he ever heard. (I laugh snort a lot, yeah I was embarrass but my girlfriend love it so I can’t hide it from her 🩶)

He stared in awe of you as you were helping Dustin carrying some things out of your car. It was like the air out of him got knocked out and everything inside of him as he melted away. He couldn’t feel his legs. He felt his heart hammering against his rib cage. He felt his mouth go dry as the tip of his tongue felt frozen. He felt like hurling everything out. Dustin appeared before him saying something to him but Steve’s eyes only been locked on your figure as you shyly gaze up at him carrying a box in your hands. 

“ Earth to Steve Harrington?” Dustin yelled. Steve had not heard a word as his Adam’s apple moved and his eyes went widen. Dustin glances over at you seeing the look Steve’s face and shook his head. 

“ Absolutely not” Dustin says pushing past Steve whom was brought of his thought gazing down at Dustin with his eyebrows knitted together. “ What are you talking about, Henderson?” 

“ You’re not dating my sister or even taking her out on a date” Dustin points a finger at Steve with a stern brother look. Steve gave a look like he lost his mind or something. 

“ Pfft… wait your sister?” Steve asks with his mouth hanging open. He moves his head where you stood with your cheeks tinted red, a small smile on your lips. “ Where do I put this?” The sound of your voice made Steve’s stomach turn into knots. His own cheeks flushed as he mouth the words but they weren’t coming out. 

“ Uh..” He says taking the box from you and he swore he was about to drop it when he felt the brush of your fingertips against his own. He wanted to die right there and then. 

Dustin sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“ Steve this is Y/N, my sister” a head from behind Steve peeked out. He had a mane of curls with brown eyes and three rings on one of the hands that was on Steve’s shoulder. 

“ Y/N this is Steve…. And Eddie” he adds eyeing the boy behind Steve. “ Not you too, Eddie” Dustin threw his hands up in the air in frustration. You were staring at your brother in amusements as he spoke to himself underneath his breathe. 

Eddie softly smiles at you once your eyes meet his. 

“ Hey” he says. “ Never knew Henderson had a sister…. And a pretty one” Steve shoots a look over his shoulder at Eddie like dude I got her first. Eddie smirks feeling the glare on him. 

“ Are you going to join us?” He asks. You shake your head at him, brushing your hair behind your ear as your eyes land on Steve. You hope he says something but he doesn’t causing your heart to sink. 

“ No, I have to unpack” you mumble. 

“ She has gotten back yesterday morning and she’s staying. Right? You’re not going back?” Dustin asks, his eyes are with worry. 

You shake your head, “ No, I’m here to stay.” 

That made not only Dustin happy but Steve as he hoped he had some sort of a chance even though Dustin already disapproved of this. Your eyes met with Steves as his sparkled. God, he was beautiful. 

That was the first time you met Steve Harrington. Where the only journey began. 

Your eyes were scanning the convince store with your eyebrows knitted together in focus and the tip of your tongue as you were looking for your favorite candy. In your hand you had already picked up the kids favorite candy deciding to treat them. The door jingled open and you haven’t noticed who stepped inside unit you heard the sound of his voice. 

“ Hi there” he says. Your eyes tore away for looking for your favorite candy to the left where Steve Harrington stood with his hands on his hips. He wore his red long sleeve sweater and a pair of jeans. The red color standing out to you the most. 

“ What are you doing here?” You asked. His eyebrows raised at the question rather not getting the hello from you like he thought he would. Your cheeks flushed and you cleared your throat thinking that was really rude of you. 

“ Uh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t right. Hi” you greeted him with a smile hoping it would sound less rude and he wouldn’t look like what he looked like at the moment. Shocked and surprised. 

“ Much better” he says, putting his hands down. His eyes drop down to your hands where you held a bunch of candy. He throws his head back with a groan knowing who they are for because he knows the kids favorite candy too. 

“ You’re going to give them a sugar rush” you shuffle the candy in your arms and spot your favorite candy behind Steve. “ Aha!” You shout and brush past him. He stumbles back a bit but catches his footing. “ What are you even looking for?”

“ These” you showed him, shaking them in your hand. His lips grow in a disapproving look as he shakes his head. “ You’re going to be jumping off the wall with the sugar rush and I’ll have to deal with you.” 

“ I am not a chore, Harrington” he quickly shook his head and puts his hands up. 

“ That’s not what I meant” he says. You giggled. Steve swore his heart swelled up at the sound. His mouth a jar knowing you were messing with him now. 

“ What did you come here for?” Steves mind drew a blink as he forgot what he even was looking for. “ Huh? I don’t remember” he says. It seems like you have distracted him enough to forget on why he walk in here in the first place. It was something he’s been looking for. 

You walked up to the counter to pay for the candy you were going to buy for the kids and yourself when a hand beats you with cash of their own. 

“ Steve” you turn to look at him. “ I’m more than capable of paying” He nods. 

“ I felt like treating you and the kids” the store owner looks between you and Steve and roll his eyes. “ Young love” he says. Steve and you shake your heads.

“ We’re not in love” the both of you said together while cheeks flaring up in red. The store owner laughed and nodded. “ That’s what they all said and before they know it, they are in love. You two kids have fun” he says after the candy was paid for. 

You cleared your throat averting your gaze from Steve and taking the candy. Steve had the door already opened when you turn to walk out the store. Brushing your hair behind your ear while you exit, not casting a look at him as you thank him. 

“ You’re welcome” he says as he follows you out the door. He walks you to your car where you turn to him not really knowing what to say to him at the moment. No words really are needed. The both of you look at each other as if you hung the moon and given each other a piece of it. 

“ Uh.. I should go..” You motion to the car getting out your keys with one hand. “ Do you want me to hold those while you unlock your car?” He asked motions to the candy in your hands. You shake your head with a “ no, thank you. I got  it.” 

You opened the door and reaching in to place the candy in the seat next to yours. While you were bending down, he swore underneath his breath as his eyes fallen on your ass at it was begging for a smack. But he had to bite down the inside of his cheek to hold himself together. 

You stood back up to face him to see him struggling. You can tell from the face he was making. “ is everything okay?” You asked reaching out with your hand to touch his for a brief moment. Steve swore he would melt right there from your touch. 

“ Uh.. yeah” he nods, some strands of his hair falling to his forehead. He brushes it away as soon as he can. His hair was his best asset. He really did have nice hair that you wish to run your fingers through.

“ Okay, I’ll see you around” you give his hand a squeeze not once but twice with a soft smile gracing your face. His heart melts at the smile your giving him which he returns. If only he knew how he made you feel.

“ See you” he says wanting nothing more than to reach over to kiss your cheek but he holds back thinking you don’t even look ay him like that. He was being delusional about how he was feeling and his mind was thinking other things. 

He watches you get into your car and back away from the store. That until it hits in on what he had came here for, he mentally slaps himself in the forehead and races back inside, muttering underneath his breathe. 

It was the first time you’ve made Steve’s mind cloud with only thoughts of you and what he wanted to do.

“ I’m telling you, Sarah has been staring at you across the room for almost an hour. You should really talk to her” you motion to Steve holding your cup to your lips. Sarah was a girl in your classroom that used to have one class with Steve and she always gushed on missing having him around to look at at school. When he appeared with you and Eddie by his side, she was beaming with happiness. 

“ Was she really?” Steve asked, “ I haven’t been noticing” he shrugs. Eddie snorts as he knows the real reason why Steve isn’t interested in Sarah as you told him she was. Steve shoots him a look of shut up or else. 

“ What is funny?” You look towards to Eddie who’s holding his laughter in. “ I want in on the joke” you were looking now between Eddie and Steve in wonder. The two exchange glances. Steve saying with his look see now look what you’ve done and Eddie’s look is idiot just tell her. 

“ It’s nothing” Steve says. He feels a tap on his shoulder where he turns around and there stands Sarah with her hands folded together. She looks at you then to Eddie and then to Steve. 

“ Hi, I hope I’m not imposing but I just wanted to say it’s good to see you again Steve. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was in one of your classes and we were partners for one project that time.” 

Steve eyebrows pinch together like he’s thinking about who she is and when nothing comes back to him, he shakes his head. 

“ I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are” a flash of hurt crosses her face and she nods, looking away. “ Okay, sorry again. Just wanted to say hi” Eddie and you exchange looks of surprise on how Steve was acting like this. He said he came to the party to catch a girl’s eye. But it’s not the girl he wanted. His eyes casted down to see your reaction with Sarah and you don’t have any emotion on your face.

It was really hard to read you. 

Sarah walked away leaving the three of you. Eddie speaks up as he nudges Steve’s arm. 

“ What was that all about? I thought you’d be interested in someone like her” He says. 

“ Not the girl I was talking about “ Steve says while his eyes are on you. You felt his stare and met his gaze. You swore you felt that connection with just that one look and felt like he was speaking to you like his own mind was screaming for you. It was screaming that he might be talking about you. Your own heart was screaming for you. 

Eddie notices the looks between the two of you. He knew those look even though himself he hasn’t dated anyone. But he knew that Steve was talking about you. He knew from the beginning since you walked into their lives. He knew you were feeling the same and didn’t n need to tell him.  

You ended up going go with Steve driving you after he dropped Eddie off. He parks the car right in front of your house. Dustin and your mom were sleeping by now. Your mom didn’t know you snuck out of the house for a party. 

You are meant to be her good little sweet girl that she raised to be honest. But you had your own life and choice to make. You weren’t going to be locked up in that house. 

He turns the ignition off and turns to glance at you.

“ Did you think I was going to ask her out?” You turn to face him with your eyebrows pinched together being confused on who he was talking about. 

“ Sarah” he confirms for you seeing the confused expression on your face. 

Your mouth forms into an o shape and you shrug like you didn’t care what he does and with you. But you did, deep down you’ve would of been hurt that he would go off with her and who knows what might happen. You had heard stories about him when he was King Steve and honestly it surprised you on how he is now. He’s different. 

You also know his history with Nancy, not someone who you are close with. But she knows you and you know her. 

“ No” you shook your head. Your eyes are telling him another story. 

“ I should go, goodnight Steve” this time you took it upon yourself and leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek. Not only were you surprised with yourself but Steve froze in his seat feeling your lips on his skin. 

You had kissed his cheek. 

You reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to kiss your cheek, “ Goodnight.” 

This time you look back at him and there was a look that you two shared telling you well you did that and now you made me melt inside but I can’t tell you because I don’t want to lose you. 

Steve watches you race to he side of your house where you room was and climbed the fence up to your room. He watches as you make it safely inside, flashing your lights to tell him that you were okay and he could go home.

It was a signal the two of you made between each other when he dropped you off late at home.

For the first time Steve drove home with a wide smile on his face. 

The following more when you sat down at the table, Dustin drops his comic book on the table as his eyes you. His eyebrow raises in question waiting for you to tell him that you snuck out and weren’t home till later. 

“ What?” You asked once your mom places a plate of pancakes in front of you and places a kiss on your forehead. “ Eat your food, Dusty bun. It will get cold” she says. 

Dustin opens his mouth to speak but you give him a dirty look feeling like you knew what this was about and if he told your mom about it, then you would tell her something Dustin was hiding from her. You knew his game and he knew yours. 

He leans in and hushed whispers, “ You were out late last night and snuck out.” 

“ No I wasn’t” 

“ Yes you were, I heard you last night. Who brought you home?” He asked. “ It better not be Steve or Eddie” He hisses. He has told plenty of time to Eddie and Steve that you were off limits. He was being over protective brother.

You had spend most of your time living with your dad while Dustin lived with your mom. That was part of the divorce where siblings were split into house holds. You were only very young when it happened. 

“ Robin” you muttered to him. His eyes squinted, “ Robin doesn’t drive.” 

“ Her mom did” you muttered to him. He kept his eyes squinted not believing you as he leaned back in his seat. 

“ Mom, Y/N snuck out last night!” You gasped tearing a piece of your pancake and chugging it at him not believing he would rat you out. Your mother turned from the stove and put her hands on her hips staring at you disapprovingly. 

“ Is this true, Y/N? Did you sneak out last night? Where did you go?” 

You huffed leaning back into your seat, “ I didn’t sneak off last night to no where but Dustin stole $10 out of your wallet yesterday.” 

Dustin gasped as he threw his food your way. 

“ You swore you wouldn’t tell mom!” Dustin shouted. Your mother shook her head at the both of you and sighing to herself. What was she going to do with you? 

“ Enough you two, you better finish your food and head upstairs to your rooms where I don’t want to see you till dinner. Do I make myself clear?” She pointed the spatula at the both of you. “ No sneaking out either or I’ll take the car away.” 

You huffed putting your arms over your chest staring angrily at Dustin. He stared right back at you. This meant that he couldn’t go out to see Mike, Lucas, Max and the rest and it meant the same for you too. 

You headed to your room after cleaning up after yourself and helping your mom with the dishes, stomping up the steps making sure Dustin heard from his room that he was closer to the stares. Then you slammed the door shut to make sure you told him you were mad at him.

It felt like hour until dinner was ready. You walked down the steps helping your mom set up the table while Dustin came down moments later watching you.

“Help your sister, Dustin” she says motioning. You were reaching out for the cups when he stood by your side mumbling he was sorry that he overreacted and told mom on you. You glance down seeing his eyes were big and pouty. 

You couldn’t stay mad at your brother too long. 

You sighed, “ I’m sorry too.” The both of you hugged it out as your mom walked in seeing the hug. She awed causing you both to pull away and telling her the other had germs. 

“ Can’t believe these are my children” she says as she set some chicken wings on the table.Your stomach growls seeing the food she placed on the table. 

“ You’re drooling” Dustin says. You took a piece of bread throwing it his way where he hunched down and you missed his head. 

“ Would you two sit down and eat. Can we have a nice dinner without you two playing with your food?” 

You both apologized to your mom sitting down. This was a normal family dinner you had since you got here. It always was a start of playful dinner in the Henderson house hold. Even though your mom scolded you for food throwing, she knew it had because sort of a thing between you and Dustin.

It made her laugh at one point until she didn’t like the food she made to be played with. 

You were reading a book when a knock came to your window. You hadn’t thought of anything at first until there was another knock on your window. Your eyebrow scrunched up together trying to figure out who it was when you heard the sound of Steve’s voice. 

“ It’s Steve” he says. You threw the window open seeing he had cuts on his face and a black eye. Your eyes scan his face with worry that he’s hurt. 

“ This is nothing” he says motioning to his face as slips into your room, more like he fell with a thud. Dustin is in the other room when he hears the sound from your room. His eyebrow pinch together as he listens. 

Your eyes are wide and slam a hand over his mouth. You place a finger to your lips motioning to him to be quiet knowing that Dustin has heard the sound. Once you knew and heard nothing from your brothers room, you let out a sigh of relief and pulled him up to your bed.

“ What happened to you?” You asked. “ Who did this?” 

He waved his head as he rest his head on your pillow. Your scent surrounds him bringing him comfort as he closes his eyes. But the shaken from your hands bring him out of his state as his eyes falls on you. Your hovering above him with worry in your eyes. 

“ You can’t fall asleep here, Steve.” 

He groans clutching his side. Your eyes follow where his hand is and push it away to look at the wound or where it hurts. You look at his face to have permission from him to have a look at. He nods softly, wincing as he moves his head. 

You lift up his shirt gasping at the big bruise forming on his stomach. Anger begins to flash through you wanting to handle whoever did this to Steve. It was the look on your face that made Steve bring up his hand and cup your cheek.

The gesture caused you to calm down a bit and stared down at him.

“ Don’t worry about this, I’ll be okay. I just need to rest a bit” you shook your head and in panic as he closed his eyes. “ Let me get my mom” his eyes flashed open at the mention of your mom which meant she would call his parents and he wasn’t up to having a talk with them about this. 

“ No” he shakes his head. You were about to say something else when there is a knock at the door. Your eyes grew wide as you place a hand over Steve’s mouth. 

“ Yeah?” You asked the other person on the other side of the door. 

“ I heard a sound earlier, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” Dustin asks as he stand in front of your door with his head to the door to hear any sounds that seemed off to him. He didn’t hear anything until he heard a shuffle. 

“ Is someone in there with you?” He asks. He knocks on your door. 

Your eyes are in panic looking around in your room for Steve to hide. 

“ Hide in the shower” you tell him in a hush tone. He softly groans as he sits up but the door to your bedroom opens minutes later with your brother flying in. He’s fallen on the ground from flying inside your room but his head picks up as his eyes land on Steve who’s groaning in pain.

“ What happened?” Is the first question when catches the sight of Steve. “ Who did this?” He asks. Steve is his friend too, worry casts over him. Steve is leaning against your shoulder as his eyes close. Your in panic not knowing what to do either. 

Dustin looks over to you seeing the worst in your eyes. 

“ How long has he been like this?” He asks. “ Let me get mom” you shake your head. 

“ He doesn’t want mom to know” Dustin is having a hard time deciding weather to get his mother or not. He can’t decide. He wants Steve to be okay and on the other hand he’s worried that Steve won’t be able to hang out wit him anymore. Then he looks over at you seeing you brush away his hair, worry over him.

“ You like him, don’t you?” Dustin asks. “ You care about him, alot. Right?” 

You don’t have to answer Dustin because he can tell from the look on your face and the single tear that running down your cheek. He watches as you place Steve into your lap while you hold him. 

“ I’m going to get the first aid kit” he tells you walking into your bathroom as he finds it underneath the sink knowing you kept it there for safe measures. 

He returns to see you running your fingers through Steve’s hair. 

“ I think I’m happy that you like Steve instead of some stranger. I feel like you’d be good to him and he would be too. But if he doesn’t, well he’s going to have to deal with all of us going after him.” 

You laughed watching as Dustin opened the first aid kit. You felt like this was an approval coming from him. 

The next time Steve woke up was laying in your lap still while you had a book in your hands that you were reading. You hadn’t notice he’d woken up until you felt a piece of your hair being twirled. 

A smile appears on your face at the sight go him. 

“ Hi” he greets you. He felt like this was dream he didn’t want to wake up from. 

“ Hi, I’m so glad your okay” he smiles down but you place a finger to his lips which causes his eyes to go wide but when you motion to his side, he looks over to see Dustin was sleeping there. Steve scrambles to get up, slightly waking up Dustin who groans as he opens his eyes.

“ Do you have to be so loud?” He asks, sitting up as he rubs his eyes. Steve has a look of panic across his face taking it the fact that Dustin was in the room meaning he found out that Steve stayed here. He knows Dustin told. Him any times to stay away from you. But he can’t. 

“ Relax, Steve. We patched you up” Dustin tells him. That’s when Steve notices the bandage around his waist and he feels his face, feeling small bandaids on his face.

“ You’re not mad?” He asks Dustin. Dustin shook his head. 

“ I’m mad that you keep doing this” he motions between you and Steve. “ Hiding this.” 

Your head hangs feeling like he was about to yell at Steve and race to tell your mom but he doesn’t as he slide off your bed and puts on his cap. 

“ Just don’t hurt her, please.Besides my mom, she’s the only family I have.” Steve shakes his head. “ She’s been through a lot too, there is a lot of hurt in there” he points to you. “ Life hasn’t been too kind to her and you’ve walked into her life and it’s like there is this bright cloud above her where she doesn’t stop smiling. If she does, you’ll have me to handle. Not only that but all of us.” 

“ I got it, Henderson. I won’t hurt her” Steve says when he looks at you. His words are caught in his throat on what he wants to really say and then he does say it, your own breath stops. 

“ How could I hurt someone that took my heart from the moment she looked at me?” Yours and Dustin’s mouth drop open at his confession. Steve knew it wasn’t the best time to tell you this but now it was out in the open and he didn’t know you were going to take it. 

“ Yo-ou lov-ve me?” You slide off the bed and made your way over to him. 

He clears his throat fearing you weren’t going to return the feeling as he shook his head telling you to forget what he had said. You cupped his face with you hand turning his head to meet your gaze.

You were smiling. 

“ You’re a goofball and an idiot sometimes Steve Harrington, but I love you too.” 

His eyes widen and a smile appears on his face. He winces when he tries to reach you but it was interrupted when cough was heard. Your body froze in fright hearing your mother and she stood there by the door that was wide open. 

Dustin had forgot to close it when he fell asleep on the bed. Dustin gives you oh shit look on his face and tries to scramble out of the room without his mom noticing he’s there but she does. 

“ You sit back down, Dustin.” 

He sits down on the bed as her eyes fall onto Steve. 

“ You must be Steve, right?” He nods as he sits up with a wince but you help him up to stand. Your mother walks into the room as she squints her eyes at him.

“You boy, if you hurt my little girl ever. I mean ever, I will unleash hell on you. Do I make myself clear?” Steve gulps as he nods his head that he’s understanding. Her eyes drop down to you. 

“ I’m disappointed that you never talk to me anymore, we used to have fun” then her eyes look over to Dustin, “ this isn’t like you Dustin to keep things from me either.” 

“ I didn’t know she liked him until last night, she was almost close to tears seeing the sight of him. You should of seen him” Dustin points to Steve. 

“ Close to tears? I’m right here” Steve wraps his arms around you bringing you to his side. He winced in pain but he took it because he had you by his side. Till that day, he hasn’t told you who had hurt him to have him crash onto your bedroom door where the following day he confessed his feeling to you. 

Many months pass by and your relationship with Steve was stronger than ever. He made you happy, he brought you flowers, he drove you around and was a gentleman. The gang had teased Steve that you had him whipped but he didn’t mind. Not at all. He was more in love with you with each passing day. 

You were laying in bed with Steve placing kisses on every spot that he could find causing you to giggle. You mom was at work while Dustin was staying over at Mikes meaning you had the place to yourself. Steve came over after his shift, dressed in his vest which he tossed behind your chair when he walked into your room. 

“ Stevie…” you giggled pushing him away. “ It’s ticklish” he smiled continuing his kisses, not wanting to stop hearing the giggle. It was one of his favorite sounds. He pulled away one he had a question on his mind, it was more of a joke he’s been waiting on to tell you. 

“ Can I tell you something?” He asked, hovering above you. You nodded, a hand going into his hair and running your fingers through it. 

“  Are you a dictionary? Because you give me meaning” he says. You couldn’t help it but the sound that came from you caused Steve to laugh as he rolled down besides you. You had snorted while laughing at his lame joke. It was kinda cute but you couldn’t help it. 

Your hand reach up to cover your nose and mouth thinking Steve was laughing at you. You looked away feeling slightly hurt at his action. Steve stopped laughing noticing you had moved away from him and he frowns seeing you were hiding from him.

“ Hunny?” He asks. “ Are you okay?” He tugged at your hands that were covering your nose and mouth but you refused to move them away. He sat up and turns around thinking he upset you somehow. 

“ What did I do?” You put your hands down and sat up too, a small pout on your lips where Steve wanted to kiss it away but held back as he listened to you. 

“ You laughed at me when I…. You know snorted.. “ you mumbled treating the shape on your sheets. It was rather more interesting than your boyfriend’s face at the moment. Steve shook his head as he cupped your face with both his hands. 

“ I wasn’t laughing at you, it was cute. I was laughing with you at my lame joke I’ve made. I’m sorry if you thought I was laughing at you. I would never, believe me.” 

“ Okay” you nodded a growing smile on your face. 

“Are you a barista? Because I love you a-latte!” He says causing you to snort yet again at his lame joke which he laughed too, this time tackling you on the bed as he begin placing kisses across your face again as you try to get away, giggling. 

He loved everything about you. Even the little snort you’ve made twice at his lame joke. You were a keeper and he tended to keep you as long as you’d have him. 

[tar-maitime]

silent in any still alive

Rating: T Characters: Maedhros | Maitimo, Ereinion Gil-galad, Fingon } Findekano (mentioned) Additional: modern AU, Nirnaeth Arnoediad, car crash, character injury WC: .75k

For @russingonweek Day 5 - War Prompt - Fire

Maedhros sighed and rolled her shoulders as she walked into the pharmacy, holding Gil-galad’s hand in hers. Just this left, and then home, where hopefully Fingon would be waiting. His commute was longer than hers since they’d moved to their little house, but he hadn’t had any errands today.

Getting the prescription refill she’d come for was the work of a few minutes, and she turned to go...only to have her eyes catch for some reason on the news playing on the wall TV, with its footage of the fiery aftermath of a car crash.

“...collision of a gasoline tanker truck with a passenger vehicle on State Route 2, nicknamed the Nirnaeth Speedway for its frequent fatalities,” a news anchor was saying, with far too much calm, because the car silhouetted against the flames and emergency lights was much, much too familiar. It can’t be...you’re imagining things...other people have that kind of car...

As the anchor started discussing what had caused the crash, traffic camera footage came up on the screen. It was slowed down, so Maedhros had plenty of time to see the ridiculous silver star decals her nephew had insisted on giving Fingon for his car gleam against the blue paint, before the tanker truck, on the outside of a curve and taking it too fast, crossed into the other lane. It slammed into the back of Fingon’s car, sending both vehicles spinning into the barrier.

The news cut back to the anchor, and Maedhros made a small, involuntary wounded noise, then scooped up Gil-galad and held him close to her. He was getting almost too big for it at five years old, but. If it had been Fingon’s turn today to pick him up from kindergarten...if they had both been in the car...

The news hadn’t said there were any fatalities yet. Sometimes they didn’t.

“Amme, what’s wrong?” Gil-galad asked, slightly muffled against her shoulder. 

Maedhros made herself breathe. “I don’t know, baby. Maybe nothing.”

Maybe Fingon was fine. Maybe she was letting her mind run away with her.

She shifted to hold Gil-galad with her right arm, and reached for her phone.

But before she could call FIngon, it started ringing, an incoming call from an unknkown number.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she picked up. “Maedhros Noldoran?” a professional-sounding female voice on the other end asked.

She swallowed hard. “That’s - that’s me.”

“I’m calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Fingon Vanyaran, does that sound right?”

It took a moment before she could get the words out. “Yes. He - he’s my husband.”

The woman’s voice was tinged with sympathy that made Maedhros want to climb out of her own skin. “All right. Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you there’s been an accident. Can you come to the Esteva Hospital emergency room on Lome Street as soon as possible?”

“I - I can - I can do that. I’m ten minutes away,” Maedhros managed, heart hammering, the whole world seeming very distant, even Gil-galad’s small warm body against hers. “Is he - is he alive?”

“He is,” the woman confirmed, and Maedhros’ whole body sagged. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more information than that, though.”

“That’s all right. Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Maedhros hung up, and just stood for a moment, trying to take deep breaths and gather herself.

Then she pocketed her phone and started to walk out, hiking Gil-galad up on her hip a little.

“Amme, what’s happened?” Gil-galad asked quietly, pressing close against her.

“Atto’s gotten in some trouble. He’s hurt,” Maedhros said quietly, with what she thought was admirable steadiness. “I have to go get him. So I’m going to drop you off with uncle Curvo and grandpa at their makerspace on my way to go see Atto, okay?” It wouldn’t be her first choice of babysitters or location - that would be Maglor and his wife at their place, since they knew the meaning of a decent bedtime - but the makerspace was the only option that was en route to the hospital, and she needed to get there fast, and she couldn’t take Gil, just in case...just in case...

“Okay,” Gil-galad said, sounding subdued. “Tell Atto to feel better for me?”

Maedhros bit back a sob as she set him in his car seat. “I will, baby. Promise I will.”