#No sex this chapter but there is a gay kiss | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hayakawalove · 2 months ago

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Test of Love (Chapter Ten)

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Summary: Waking up in Satoru's and Suguru's bed, before going to work. Later, Satoru and Suguru fight.

A/N: "Gay sex" we all say in unison. Thank you for continuing this journey with me, I'm so glad everyone is enjoying so far. What're you thinking? Comments are always appreciated. I love hearing what you have to say. Thank you!

CW: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (m to m), cunnilingus, creampie, praise, verbal argument, Female Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 6,986

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Warmth. The sensation of the sun's rays hitting your cheeks wakes you up, the heat slowly spreading across your flesh as your eyelashes flutter. The first crack of daylight is shining through the windows in the room, kissing your skin. You feel a heavy arm around your torso, holding you tightly against a broad chest. You know it’s Satoru’s; not because you know you fell asleep next to him last night, but because his grip is different from Suguru’s. It’s tighter, a bit more urgent as if you might slip through his fingers otherwise. When you turn around to peer up at him, you’re met with bright blue eyes looking back down at you.

“Good morning,” your sleepy voice sounds heavy in your ears.

“Morning.” He’s whispering with a groggy tone, his lashes fluttering as he looks at your face.

You can’t manage to pull yourself away from his gaze, so you don’t. It feels like a trap, like a hypnotic hold has taken over you.

“You and Suguru didn’t go to bed with me.” He pouts.

Ah, right. You spent a large portion of the night attempting to soothe Suguru’s old scars. Images flash through your mind of what he looked like on the balcony, black hair flowing with the somber look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, we were just talking.”

“Did you guys have sex?” Satoru asks.

You let out a chuckle and scoot your body in closer to his, and his arm holds you greedily.

“No,” you breathe in deeply, letting your eyes pick out details of their room.

It was so clean.

“We just sat on the patio and talked.”

Satoru squints at you before reaching behind, blindly grabbing Suguru’s hand. He tugs it upwards towards his nose where he gives his nails a sniff. Satoru’s face sours as he looks at you before dropping his boyfriend's hand.

“Satoru, be careful! You’re gonna wake him up!”

“He smoked.”

Suguru said Satoru didn't like when he smoked. You weren’t planning on telling him, but it looks like he was able to find out all on his own. You nibble on your lip and look away, suddenly finding their closet very interesting. Satoru inches closer to you, wrapping an arm around your torso, his nails scrapping your rib cage. You can feel his nose digging into the side of your throat, with a gentle brush of his hair grazing your tender flesh each time he exhales.

“You snore, by the way.” You murmur, pressing your back against his front.

Satoru’s head pops up over you, his eyebrows pinched as he stares down at you. There’s an argument at the tip of his tongue, you can tell.

“Do not.” He replies.

You turn over to lay flat on your back, his large arms caging you in on either side. Golden rays are peaking through the blinds, bathing his profile in gentle sunlight. You can see the details of his eyes better like this. You knew they were blue, but you’re able to see other tones as the lights bounces off. Multiple colors shine underneath, giving depth to his already perfect gaze.

“Do too.”

Satoru squints at you, leaning closer down to your face. You think it’s meant to be intimidating, but it isn’t, not in the least.

“You sleep talk.” Satoru says. Pressure builds up in your chest from the close proximity.

You know for a fact you don’t. No one has told you that before, so you decide to call his bluff.

“Like hell I do!”

Satoru cracks a grin and leans down closer, his nose nearly touching yours. Subconsciously you bring your face closer to his, teasing the idea of dragging your lips against him.

“You don’t. It’d be funny if you did though. I would have to kick you out and make you sleep in the living room.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You like sleeping together too much.” You wrap your legs around his lean waist, pulling him closer to you. Your arms sling around his neck, offering him all of your warmth.

Satoru hums, his gaze flickering over your face. The morning is kind to him, you’ve decided. He looks good like this. The worries of the day haven’t hit his face yet, the muscles in his features completely relaxed as he looks at you.

“I do like sleeping with you.” His voice is low, quiet enough that you have to put effort into hearing it.

The temptation is too strong now, so you’re the first to give in. You press your lips against his, letting him reciprocate before you go any further. Satoru pushes his hips down into you, getting as close as physically possible. Even though his bed is comfortable, he thinks being wrapped in your embrace is ten times better. Satoru glides his tongue against your bottom lip, chuckling to himself at the soft moan you let out.

He drags his fingers down your face, delighting in the shiver you let out before resting them on your hips. Right now, it’s just the two of you. He lets you chase after his tongue, grazing it against yours once you find him. You dig your nails into his shirt, pushing and pulling as you kiss.

“Mmm, early.” You hear a second voice beside you.

The sudden sound startles you. The room had been filled with the noises of your lips smacking, but now you hear Suguru groaning on your left.

“Never too early.” Satoru responds, kissing his way down your cheek, jaw, and throat.

His teeth are unforgiving as they nip at you. Your eyebrows furrow as he assaults your skin, every bite he gives sending a rush of pleasure between your legs. The heat of Suguru’s gaze burns into your side, but you’re too focused on what’s happening. Satoru’s tongue is hot as he slides it down your neck, covering you in kisses.

There’s shuffling beside you, and you decide Suguru must be getting out of the bed. Your heart tugs in disappointment, wondering if he was leaving to sleep elsewhere. Satoru pays it no mind as he drags his lips back up to yours, his kisses much more demanding than before. You’re finding it hard to breathe around him, his mouth completely covering yours.

After a couple minutes pass, Satoru’s being dragged away from your person. He whines as he’s tugged back, your limbs helplessly falling to your side as you watch. Satoru’s panting, his eyes droopy with desire as he stares down at you. Suguru is behind him, a hand tangled in Satoru’s hair as a way to pull him back. The motion causes Satoru’s throat to be exposed, the long column of his neck on full display. It was mouthwatering.

The room is silent as Suguru’s eyes flit over Satoru’s face. You aren’t sure if you should butt in or not, but the display is a bit too interesting to interrupt. Suguru leans down and places his lips against Satoru’s, leaving his hand in his hair. Satoru immediately leans into the kiss with his body still facing yours. You can see his cock trying to break through his pants, the hard bump painful to look away from.

Suguru twists his tongue around Satoru’s while devouring his moans. The sight causes something inside you to stir, the heat between your legs growing more and more noticeable. Suguru is rough with Satoru, his demanding hands holding him against his body tightly in case he thought about escaping. Suguru pulls away to mumble against Satoru’s lips.

“Starting things this early, Satoru?”

“She started it.” Satoru stutters a response.

He wasn’t completely wrong. Suguru’s eyes flick over to yours at that, the heavy look causing your heart to stop. He didn’t look mad, but there was certainly a fire to his gaze.

“Is that right?” Suguru asks, sliding his lips down Satoru’s neck.

He places a kiss on Satoru, before sticking his tongue out to trail against the sorcerer's throat. Satoru shudders in response, his chest heaving as his boyfriend works him up. You’re throbbing now. The space between your legs was leaky, making a mess out of you before you even started.

Suguru opens his jaw and bites down against Satoru’s neck, eyes closing in bliss at the sound he lets out. It’s almost weird to see Satoru so helpless, so at the disposal of another human being. Satoru may be the strongest, but it was undoubtedly clear that Suguru held all the power right now.

“Lay down,” Suguru whispers in Satoru’s ear before stepping back, releasing him from his tight hold.

Satoru nearly falls forward, only preventing himself from crushing you by sticking his arms in front of him. He’s hovering above you, a dusty red tint set across his cheeks. You share humid breaths before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips against yours. You want to complain when he pulls away, but you save it. You’re interested to see where Suguru takes this.

Satoru lays on his back, while Suguru sinks to his knees on the floor. Your eyes flick back and forth between the two men, unsure where you should settle them. Satoru’s breathing hard even though he hasn’t been touched, and Suguru looks like sin incarnate, his low eyes the epitome of lustful temptation.

“Take his shirt off.” Suguru orders.

He’s dragging Satoru’s pants down carefully while your hands fumble to remove his shirt. Satoru’s brows are furrowed as he watches the two of you work him.

Satoru’s cock springs out, precum already dribbling past his red sensitive tip. Your eyes are glued to the way Suguru handles him, his hand gripping the bottom of Satoru’s cock.

His eyes are closed when he sticks his tongue out, sliding it against the head of Satoru’s cock. Satoru groans loudly, the volume scaring you. When you toss a look back towards Satoru you notice his eyes squeezed shut, while his fists desperately try to cling onto your thighs and the sheets.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Suguru murmurs, placing kisses up his shaft.

You dig your teeth into your lip, and turn back around to watch Suguru. You’ve never seen him go down on Satoru before. The sight is more delicious than anything you have come across so far. He opens his mouth and takes in Satoru’s cock, sliding down until he hits the back of his throat. Suguru opens his eyes to glance at you, and you feel like you’ve been caught red handed, but your desire makes you unable to look away.

Satoru’s moaning beneath you, his fingers clawing at your thigh as Suguru deep throats him. It's hard to tell what’s getting to you first. The sight of Suguru swallowing Satoru’s cock, or Satoru’s moans filling your ears. His volume only increases as Suguru speeds up. A symphony of whimpers and groans fill the space between the three of you. Suguru drags his head back up, Satoru’s cock bobbing against his lips. There’s a string of precum and saliva sticking to Suguru’s mouth, where he sticks his tongue out to disconnect it.

“Quiet him down, will you?”

He goes back down, sticking his tongue out as he places his lips around Satoru once more. You turn your head towards Satoru and watch his eyes roll back in his head, pleasure coursing throughout his body. You aren’t quite sure what Suguru meant, so you just lean over to kiss Satoru. He acts as if he’s starved for the action, his lips quickly chasing after yours as he reaches a hand up to cradle the back of your head.

He shoves his tongue in your mouth, groans silencing between the exchange of breaths. You nip at his bottom lip, causing a whimper to flow past his mouth into yours. His fingers dig into your hair, tugging as you kiss. You can hear Suguru behind both of you, the sounds of Satoru’s cock sliding down his throat making your head spin.

You pull back to breathe and watch Satoru beneath you. It’s easy to tell how close he must be getting.

“Get on top of his face sweetheart, I wanna see you ride his tongue.”

There’s a sparkle in Satoru’s eyes when Suguru says that. You almost wonder if the sentiment was for you at all, or if it was more for the men’s pleasure.

You shimmy your clothes off before turning around, throwing a leg over Satoru’s face. You’re facing Suguru, eyes locked onto the way he sucks Satoru.

“You wanna watch me while he fucks you with his tongue? Naughty girl.” Suguru prods, bringing his mouth away to bully you.

That’s exactly why you faced this way. You wanted to see how he took in Satoru, how he made his boyfriend cum in your absence.

Satoru sticks his tongue out, gliding it through your wet folds. He groans when he gets a taste of you. You were soaked. All the teasing and patiently waiting was getting to you. His hands hold your hips as he slides his tongue around your pussy. You let out a moan and begin to grind your hips down, humping his face as he attaches his lips to your clit. Suguru opens his mouth and drags his tongue up the side of Satoru’s cock, eyes never leaving yours. You dig your nails into Satoru’s chest, pulling your hands down to leave fresh red marks.

“There you go baby, does he feel good?” Suguru taunts.

You bite your lip and groan, Satoru’s warm mouth sucking your sensitive nub. You must be leaking all over his face now, but that only spurs him on further.

“You hear that Satoru? Making our girl feel so fucking good. Such a good boy, our good boy.”

Your mouth drops open as you listen to Suguru goad Satoru. The praise isn’t even for you, but it sends electricity coursing through your system all the same. Satoru’s fingers dig tighter into your hips, his moans muffling against your pussy.

Suguru wraps his lips around Satoru once more. Saliva is dripping past the sides of his mouth, coating Satoru as he sucks him.

You push your hips harder down against Satoru, your stomach tightening. He’s speeding up, his tongue dragging across your clit in an almost manic matter.

Suguru’s bobbing his head up and down on Satoru, throat moving as he swallows large amounts of the precum sliding down his throat. It feels like your head is spinning as you watch the event unfold. How did you get fortunate enough to witness something like this?

Satoru wraps his lips around your clit and gives a harsh suck, making you double over. He must know that you're close, probably clued in due to how much you were leaking onto his skin. You moan and push your hips over on his face, using his mouth to get you off.

It's close. You’re so close.

You can tell you aren’t the only one. Satoru’s whimpering is muffled against you as Suguru sucks him off. His eyes are pinched shut as he fucks Satoru with his throat. There’s a distinctive schlick noise resounding throughout the room, and if you focus on Suguru for long enough you can tell that it’s coming from him. His frame is shaking as he wraps a hand around his cock, jerking himself off to the sounds of his two lovers.

Satoru throws one hand down to grip the sheets, his fingers long and white knuckled as he digs into the bed. A thick black bang falls in front of Suguru as his head moves, covering a part of his eyes.

Satoru stills beneath you and you hear a wince from Suguru. It's hard to tell, but Satoru had cum and Suguru was desperately trying to swallow it all.

When he pulls away there’s strings of cum connecting his lips to Satoru’s cock, with some of it dripping from the corners of his mouth. His cheeks are bright red and he’s panting, trying to recover the lost oxygen Satoru had taken from him.

When he looks up at you, you almost pass out. His eyes are hooded as he raises his thumb, swiping the corners of his lips while he watches you. It’s so fucking lewd that it takes your breath away. You claw down Satoru’s chest as you feel your orgasm inch closer and closer.

When it hits, it hits hard. There is no warning, instead only a chorus of your moans bouncing off the walls of the room. Satoru guides you through it, sucking your clit harshly even when it begins to hurt.

Suguru’s watching you the entire time, only standing up once you finish and your heart is pounding. His cock is out and hard, dribbles of precum pouring from his neglected tip. You’re sliding off Satoru without even putting any effort in. It’s like there’s a magnet between you and Suguru, drawing you closer and closer to him.

Once you’re at the edge of the bed, centimeters away from him, he leans down to kiss you. He tastes like mint, and you put the pieces together that he must have gotten up to brush his teeth when he left the two of you. You can also taste Satoru’s cum in his mouth. It’s salty and savory, the flavor transferring from his saliva to yours. Suguru pulls away before you can ask for more.

“Get on your hands and knees, honey.”

You slide a tongue along your bottom lip and flip around, getting into position. Satoru’s beneath you, body completely still. He’s still breathing hard, eyes loopy from pleasure and oxygen deprivation.

“Hi,” you get out.

Satoru chuckles airlessly and looks up at you. “Hey.”

Suguru stands behind you, palms greedy as they ghost over the skin of your ass. He watches as globs of your cum pour from your cunt, making his throat dry. God, you’re fucking perfect.

Suguru grabs his cock and strokes it a couple of times before lining it up to your hole. He’s fantasizing about how tight you must be, even though you’re right in front of him.

Your eyes bore into Satoru’s face, hypnotized by his beauty. It feels like the three of you are the only ones in the world, everything else but a mere mirage. Satoru’s gaze can’t settle on one place, instead dancing around all of your features. It appears like he’s looking at something beautiful, something even more breathtaking than himself. But that can’t be right. Not when he’s the most beautiful thing to ever cross the earth.

Suguru dips his cock into you, your pussy quickly latching onto his length as he sinks in deeper. Your mouth widens, unable to focus as he stretches you out from behind. Satoru is quick to soothe your nerves, his hands sliding up your sides as his boyfriend eases into you.

“H-he’s so big, Satoru.”

“I know.” Satoru sounds breathless as he watches you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

Suguru’s watching the way your pussy hungrily takes him in. He was a bit perturbed by Satoru waking him up, but he’s beginning to think he had the right idea. Suguru never wanted to stop.

Once he’s fully inside, your eyes roll back into your head. His cock is kissing your sensitive walls, nudging against each fiery nerve ending. He pulls back before thrusting himself back in, swearing under his breath at the moan you let out. Suguru knows he won’t last long, he was already getting close just from the noises you and Satoru were making, and you feel even better than he fucking remembered.

“F-fuck,” he moans, holding onto your hips as he slams into you.

You can’t focus. All you feel are Satoru’s hands on you and Suguru’s cock fucking into you. Satoru must be cooing praises at you from below, soft enough that only you can hear them, but it’s going over your head. Suguru pulls out until he’s slipped free, before slamming back into you. He’s straining his ears to hear your moans above his own, but it’s hard.

His vision is foggy as he watches your pussy grip onto him. When he looks up he can see bright blues poking up from underneath you, flicking over to him before flying back to your face. Suguru feels you clench once Satoru looks at you again, and it almost has him doubling over.

“Baby, you’re gonna make me-“ Suguru moans, his hips stuttering.

He doesn’t warn you as he’s cumming. His body stills as he pulls your ass against him, unleashing each drop of cum he has for you. His eyes are shaky as he winces, pulling his cock from your body. His cum dribbles out, white pouring from your cunt as it drips down.

The entire room is a mixture of all your breathing. Suguru chuckles before flicking his hair back, and stepping away to get a washcloth.

It takes everything in your being not to collapse on top of Satoru. He looks just as exhausted as you. Even so, his eyes shine like stars beneath your form.

You feel something rough slide between your legs, a towel Suguru had recruited in cleaning you up. It helps ease the discomfort of the warm liquid pouring from your hole. Once he’s done, you collapse on your side and take a deep breath. What a way to start the day.

Satoru stands up, sweat gleaning over his abs as he presses his lips against Suguru. It’s sweet, but it does leave you wondering where you fit in all this. At times you still felt like somewhat of an outsider, even though you know you shouldn’t.

“Guys?” You ask.

Satoru and Suguru look at you, mild confusion on their faces.

“What…are we?” You go on.

At the risk of feeling stupid, you’re unable to stop yourself. Both men turn around fully, blank expressions on their face.

“What are we?” Suguru repeats.

“Yeah, I mean like you guys are dating and I know we went on dates, and have done other things…” you trail off, the feeling of Suguru’s sticky residue between your thighs reminding you of what you’ve done. “But we’ve never said. If you don’t want it to be official that’s fine, I just want to know.” You tell yourself it would be fine if you were just a hookup to them, but you know that isn’t the truth.

Satoru barks out a laugh, his hearty reaction filling the room.

“You’re funny.” He sighs out, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

You furrow your brows and look at him. Was this a joke to him?

“I’m not j-“ you start.

“We would love if you joined us,” Suguru begins, walking closer to tilt your chin up with his finger. “We just didn’t say anything because we thought it was obvious.”

You pout, your eyes darting over to Satoru before looking back up at Suguru. Warmth spreads from the crown of your head to the bottom of your feet.

“I want to. Join you, I mean.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to me.” Satoru teases.

“I can still take it back!” You call out after him, watching his backside as he makes his way to the shower to get ready for the day.

“I’m glad.” Suguru murmurs, leaning down to place a minty fresh kiss against your lips.

“Me too.” You reply, watching as he stands up straight.

Now that that was handled, as well as your other needs, you knew you would have to get ready for the day.

~~~

The sky was clear and blue today, the air surrounding the school much lighter than the day before. You and Satoru were in between classes, having decided on taking a walk for lunch. His shoulders are relaxed as he strolls beside you, unimportant conversation flowing between you. You feel bad that you aren’t fully invested right now. Your mind is too preoccupied with Suguru. He was so distraught last night. You were hoping he would feel better today, but you weren’t sure if that was the case. Suguru seemed like the type to normally mask his emotions, so you would have no way of knowing if he was upset or not.

You and Satoru wander up to a row of vending machines set out for the students. He has a couple of bills pulled out, eyes darting around to decide what to drink.

“What do you want?” He asks.

“I can pay for myself, don’t worry.”

Satoru side eyes you, his gaze flickering up and down while his lips are set straight. You aren’t able to see his eyes, but you can feel them. Like pin pricks and ice cold water.

“Nice try, what’re you having?”

You click your tongue and murmur a response, settling on a bottle of juice. Satoru lifts his fingers up to press the buttons, your drink and his soda falling down into the bottom.

“So uh, Suguru and I talked last night. He said he wanted to be a teacher.”

He leans down to pick them up, passing yours to you as he leans against the vending machine. He’s much taller than it, his head poking above it.

Satoru doesn’t respond, only popping open his soda and taking a sip. You play with the bottle in your hand.

“He said you didn’t want him to be one in case he went rogue.”

Satoru lets out a light laugh, kicking one of his legs out in front of him.

“Is that what he said?”

You open your juice and take a sip, careful in your approach.

“I didn’t want him to be a teacher because I know he’d have a hard time emotionally. Suguru cares too much about everyone. Not really convenient when you see students and your coworkers die. It would rip him apart. It wasn’t about him going rogue. I would be able to handle it if he did. I was just worried about him.” Satoru turns his head away. “Still am.”

“Do you think he’s capable of switching sides?”

Satoru opens his mouth before clamping it shut. You can tell that there must be a lot of history there, a lot of stuff left unsaid. You feel like you might be butting in where you shouldn’t, but it’s too late to back out now.

“Now? No. Before?” Satoru scratches the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

It almost knocks you off your feet when he says that. Suguru told you it was bad before, but part of you was hoping he may have been exaggerating. If Satoru agreed, then it must’ve been really bad.

“Does that scare you?” He questions.

You freeze in place. You don’t know how to answer that question. Does it scare you? No, not really. You were scared that someone as strong as Suguru could be an enemy, but you weren’t scared of him as a being. Suguru had only shown you love and warmth.

“No. I’m dating you, I don’t think much could scare me.”

“Mean.”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

Satoru whines and knocks his foot against yours. You let out a chuckle and survey the campus, your eyes trailing over the many trees.

“I suppose we should get back to our classes.” You murmur, wishing you could stay with him instead.

“What, you’re done making fun of me?”

“For now.” You reply, turning away to head to your class. “Thanks for the drink!”

~~~

You have been teaching your students for the past two hours. Today was a mellow day, which was needed. The classroom was quiet as each student worked on a worksheet, allowing you time to sit back. It was about time for you to see how Kawaguchi and Itsuki were doing, the idea sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m going to go check on something. Yuuta, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Yuuta’s eyes widen as you slip out from the classroom, leaving no room for debate.

Your shoulders feel light as you carry yourself down the hallway. The conversation from this morning was flowing easily through your head. You were actually a part of them now. You were in their relationship. It was a bit hard to decipher what that actually meant, and how things would change from now on. You were hoping nothing would change. Things were already perfect.

You release a heavy breath as you turn the halls, lifting your hand from your pocket to reach for Kawaguchi’s door. The metal is cold beneath your palm, biting into your skin as you turn it.

Empty.

The room is completely empty, devoid of any signs of life. You blink a couple times, as if that might make Kawaguchi magically reappear. It doesn’t. It feels like your stomach is full of lead, and your breathing is picking up. You run into the room and frantically look around in case he might be hiding anywhere. He’s not. There’s nothing in the room. Only a chair sits in the middle.

Your eyes fly to the door across the hall where Itsuki was placed. It feels like an out of body experience as you open the door to his room. Empty. Almost empty. There’s a piece of paper laying square in the middle of the floor. Your feet stumble over to it, gaze sweeping the paper as you read what was written.

“I’ll be waiting, Suguru.”

The room is spinning as you charge out the door, your feet bounding down the halls of Jujutsu High. The kids. All you can think about are the kids. You just saw them, but what if Kawaguchi and Itsuki snuck by you? You can’t breathe. You can’t fucking breathe. Yuuta’s a higher grade than you, but it doesn’t change the fact that you were in charge of them. You run to your classroom, feet skidding once you come to a stop in front.

Inumaki and Panda are in the front, writing something on the chalkboard as Yuuta and Maki watch in the front row.

“Oh! Hey,” Yuuta looks up towards you. He must see the alarm on your face, because his expression morphs. “Are you okay?”

They’re okay. You’re finally able to breathe as you assess each of their features. You didn’t want to leave them again, but there was somewhere else you had to go.

Without saying a word, you run to Satoru’s classroom. His voice is loud, bouncing off the walls as you approach closer and closer. He’s teaching his students, a rare occurrence, but it seems like everything is okay.

Satoru’s head snaps up the second you reach his classroom. His mouth drops instantly while he takes you in, as he quickly sees that something is wrong.

“What?” His voice has an edge to it, sharp like a blade.

“K-Kawaguchi and Itsuki.” You breathe heavily. “They’re gone.”

The first years look clueless as they sit in their seats, their eyes darting back and forth between you and Satoru. You can tell Satoru must be calculating his next move. It only takes half a second before he’s headed toward you, throwing an order out over his shoulder.

“Megumi, keep watch over everyone.”

Megumi dips his head in acknowledgement, before the other two begin to argue over each other about why they can’t be in charge. You don’t stick around long enough to listen to their reasonings.

Satoru follows you out of the hall as you explain the situation to him. His lips are spread in a thin line as he listens, discontentment clear on his face.

“I’m going to search for them. Go report to Yaga so we can put the school on lockdown.”

The idea of telling Yaga that the men escaped seemed daunting. It was a group effort to keep an eye on them, but you couldn’t help feeling personally responsible.

“Satoru-“ you grab his wrist and stop.

Satoru whips around, eyes drawn to your skin against his before he looks up at your face.

“They left a note. For Suguru.” You explain, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper.

Satoru quickly reads it before his nose pinches in revulsion.

“Don’t tell Suguru about that.”

“What? Why?”

You barely get the words out before Satoru is gone. He must have teleported to his next location, which almost irks you a bit. Why couldn’t you tell Suguru about the note? He was just as involved in this as you were. You stuff the paper into your pocket before heading off to Yaga’s office.

When you get there, he’s filling out paperwork at his desk. He looks relaxed, his elbow propped up as he writes. You felt horrible for interrupting him, knowing it would turn his mood upside down.

“Yaga, Kawaguchi and Itsuki are gone.”

He drags his eyes up to you and slams his pen down.

“God damn it!”

“Satoru is looking for them right now.” You say, playing with the piece of paper in your hand.

It would be smart to tell Yaga about it.

You don’t.

“We’ll shut the school down, and employ other sorcerers in the search.” Yaga replies, running his hand against his mouth.

If that many people were going to look for them, there was a good chance they would be caught.

~~~

Suguru’s had a long day. He exorcized five curses since the three of you got out of bed this morning, and he was sore. He was grateful his technique was so strong, but he couldn’t ignore how physically draining it was.

His stomach was turning over and his throat was killing him. No matter how much gum he had, it still didn’t get rid of the awful taste tainting his mouth.

It was 11 pm and Satoru still wasn’t home. It was late, but not by Satoru’s standards. Oftentimes he wouldn’t be home until 2 am. It bugged Suguru that Satoru rarely had breaks, but he’s grown used to it. He hopes Satoru hasn’t. He wants Satoru to want for more.

Suguru didn’t have anything else to do, so he decided to go outside and wait. He’s been sitting downstairs next to the entrance for the past couple of hours, his back leaning against the building's wall as he watches groups of people pass by.

Suguru’s nursing a cigarette in between his fingers, occasionally bringing it up to his lips where he takes long drags. He watches normal people pass by in increments. Each of them were living peaceful lives. He didn’t need to ask to know that. None of them had the same worry lines etched in their faces, the same heavy drag of their feet.

Something shifts in the air, and that’s when he knows Satoru must be home.

Suguru’s eyes search through the bundles of people before he finds his boyfriend, his tall body maneuvering through the crowds. Suguru doesn’t even need to talk to him to know that he’s exhausted. Satoru’s shoulders are hunched, and his blindfold is clutched between his fingers.

Satoru stops in front of Suguru, looking down into his eyes. Suguru is quiet as Satoru plucks the cigarette from his hand, dropping it to the cement before stepping on it with his foot. Suguru follows the action with his gaze, neither upset nor surprised.

“Welcome home.” Suguru speaks.

“What’re you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you.” Suguru’s voice is flat as he replies.

Suguru stands, now eye to eye with Satoru. He reaches out and brushes his white bangs back, lips twisting when Satoru winces. Satoru leans forward and presses his lips against Suguru before pulling away, only looking mildly offended at the taste of tobacco on his lover's tongue.

Suguru grabs hold of Satoru’s hand and leads him upstairs, quiet the entire way back to their apartment. The second they step inside, Suguru dims the lights. He knows just how to take care of Satoru. He’s got it down to a science, his method perfect after years of practice.

Satoru slides onto the stool at their bar, watching as Suguru walks around the kitchen. His head is pounding, the effects of his six eyes already plaguing him. Suguru searches through a cabinet before pulling out a king size chocolate bar, tossing it over his shoulder without glancing towards Satoru. He can hear the plastic make contact with his palms before it’s ripped open, pieces being shoved into his mouth.

Satoru mumbles a ‘thank you’, which makes Suguru smile softly. He’s worked on Satoru’s manners over the years. Suguru’s quite proud, he’s the one who hounded him over it. Now isn’t the time to be polite though, he knows this. His boyfriend is in pain.

Suguru retrieves another blindfold from their bedroom, one that is much more thick. Satoru desperately reaches for it before tying it around his head, a bit too tight. Suguru furrows his brows and looks away, head hurting just from watching the action.

“Any luck?” Suguru asks softly, careful not to speak too loudly.

He knew that Kawaguchi and Itsuki had gone missing. You called the second your meeting with Yaga was over. Satoru had been searching for hours, so Suguru assumed he didn't find anything.

He grabs ingredients from the fridge and cabinet as he begins to cook Satoru a meal filled with sugar. He used to tease Satoru on his intake, but overtime he slowly learned the real reason. Satoru didn't eat like a five year old because he wanted to. He ate like that because he had to.

Satoru’s on the last piece of his candy once he begins to talk.

“No. I couldn’t find any trace of their cursed energy nearby.”

Suguru looks up from his task to catch a glimpse of Satoru. He looks a little less pained now, creases no longer decorating his forehead.

“I’m proud of you for looking that hard, though.” Suguru gives compliments to Satoru like he has an abundance of them. He understands no one cares to ask Satoru how he’s doing, or to inform him that he’s doing a good job.

Suguru knows Satoru must be irritated because he doesn’t have a witty response immediately.

“Where would they have gone? And why are they so good?” Satoru rambles.

“Do you think they used their techniques to escape?”

“It wouldn’t match either of them. There must be more people involved. I don’t understand how they could have flown under our radar, though.” Satoru responds.

Suguru finishes cooking and slides the plate over to Satoru. He quickly wipes up the counter, and tosses the towel over his shoulder. Suguru watches Satoru dig in, his large frame leaned over as he devours his cooking.

“So they just left? They didn’t say anything weird this morning?” Suguru asks, leading up to his next question. “Didn’t leave anything behind?”

“No.” Satoru responds.

The ease at which he lied to Suguru bugged him. Suguru lets out a chuckle and rounds the counter, standing next to Satoru.

“I know about the note.” Suguru says your name. “She told me.”

Satoru remains expressionless as he looks up at Suguru.

“You can’t lie to me, Satoru. Not when we all need to be working together.”

“I lied to protect you.”

Suguru feels the heat of a fight coming on. They didn't fight often. Argued, sure. But rarely did they fight. The two saw eye to eye more often than not, and when they didn’t they would appreciate each other's differences.

“I don’t need your protection, Satoru!” Suguru’s tone rises. “I know you’re used to protecting everyone and doing everything by yourself, but I don’t need it. You may be stronger, but I’m fully capable of handling myself.”

Satoru pulls back, the sound of Suguru’s frustration clawing at his insides. He knew damn well how capable Suguru was. He wasn’t worried about how physically strong he was, he was worried about how strong he was mentally. It was obvious that Suguru was still rattled by the conversation with Itsuki. Satoru didn’t want to risk Suguru’s mind becoming affected, not when it was the best part about him.

“You knowing doesn’t change anything,” Satoru argues back, even though he really knows he shouldn’t.

Suguru had a right to be angry. But Satoru feels the need to fight back anyway.

“Yes, it does. If I’m going to help, which I am going to, I need to know every detail of the case. If they have some weird fascination with me we could use that to our advantage-“

“We are not doing that. I just need a little more time and I’ll-“

“God, Satoru!” Suguru walks away, slamming his towel on the counter.

The two men look at each other, feelings being conveyed even though Suguru couldn’t see Satoru’s eyes.

He knows that Satoru doesn’t think any less of him. Satoru is used to taking care of problems by himself. That doesn’t change how pissed off Suguru is. They have been a pair since highschool. He wants Satoru to lean on him.

“I’m going to help whether you like it or not. I’ll get my information from Yaga and our girlfriend, or from you.”

The term girlfriend slides effortlessly off Suguru’s tongue. Satoru has to suppress a shudder at the sound.

Satoru looks up at Suguru for a moment longer, before clicking his tongue and looking away. By all accounts, he knows Suguru is right. They need all the help they can get. It’s just irritating Satoru. This should be a piece of cake for him. Why is it so difficult?

“I’m going to go back out searching first thing in the morning. Do you want to come with me?” Satoru reluctantly offers.

Suguru’s face softens, the truce settling in the dust.

“I would love to,” Suguru squeezes Satoru’s arm. “We should head to bed, we have an early morning ahead of us.”

Satoru’s lips lift slightly, before he gets up to put his plate away. Suguru was right, they did have a long day ahead of them.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak, @spookysoowpprince, @reosnagi, @faerie-soirxx, @platrom, @oownowonwoo, @megumisdivinedogs, @sakui1, @maskedpacific, @riri-twix, @nanasukii28, @sugu-love, @bunviixo, @zeyzeys-stuff, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @gothiccwhore666, @reiluvr, @svtbpbts

If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know. Please specify what you want to be added to.

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

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A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #game show au #tw: pet death #buckingham #not billy hargrove friendly #tommy hagan #everyone is gay

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4wkjun · 9 months ago

Text

daddy sim | sjy

summary: Jake and y/n have been living together for a year. When Jake sees the opportunity, he ends up confessing his feelings for y/n. The next thing they know is that she’s pregnant.

contains: Jake Sim x fem!reader, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI), friends to lovers, father!Jake.

author's notes: This is kind of a repost of Roomies to Parents (still my fic, lmao). I'm rewriting this so I feel a little less shitty about my writing! Also, their ages are not their real ages here; Heeseung will be a ‘96 liner; Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon will be ‘97 liners. The maknae line won’t appear as much, but their ages will continue this way: Sunoo will be a ‘98 liner, Jungwon ‘99, and Niki ‘00.

➥ Comment down here if you want to be a part of the au’s taglist!

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Chapter 01: is this code for gay? ➥ Contains: a little bit of humor, insinuations of homosexuality, mentions of alcohol, and swearing.

Chapter 2: I kissed you first ➥ Contains: suggestive talk, fluff, swearing.

Chapter 3: You're insane, aren't you? ➥ Contains: smut (MINORS DNI), swearing, talk about boundaries.

Chapter 4: Happy birthday! ➥ Contains: a little angst if you squint, mentions of nudity, a single mention of abortion, crying, mentions of smoking, swearing.

Chapter 5: Congratulations. ➥ Contains: angst if you squint, mentions of abortion, crying, swearing.

Chapter 6: Oh, my God. ➥ Contains: mentions of miscarriages, crying, swearing.

Chapter 7: Something’s wrong. ➥ Contains: mentions of sex, pregnancy complications, swearing, a especifically heavy joke.

Chapter 8: He would die for you. ➥ Contains: pregnancy complications, swearing, crying.

Chapter 09: is it a ‘yes’? ➥ Contains: crying, mention of family issues, mention of pregnancy complications, mentions of needles (IV).

#enhypen au #enhypen fanfic #jake au #jake sim x reader #jake fanfic #jake smau #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #jake fluff #jake smut #4wkjun #roomiestoparents

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king-urameshi · 5 months ago

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my favorite bucktommy fanfic

I figured I've read enough fanfic for this ship to curate a list of my favorites since wading through the ao3 tag can be a challenge. Some of these have been recommended numerous times already on here but hey, what's another shout out for some good writing?

I will add more on reblogs as I come across other fanfic I like:

left breathless by elizabethgee [e] [11.4k words, 2/3 chapters]

summary:

Buck turns to Tommy for comfort when an arson case involving a man who looks like Tommy ends up being ruled a murder. And Tommy doesn't have daddy issues. Really, he doesn't. This fic will include very dark themes, including blackmail, murder, and arson.

prescribed burn by wakeupnew [t] [8.4k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy's busy fighting a wildfire at the edge of the Angeles National Forest, but every time he checks his phone, he has an increasingly unbelievable series of text messages. (Or: Over the course of eighteen hours with Buck and the 118, from a distance and then up close and personal, Tommy keeps having to reassess.)

gettin' bi by brewrosemilk [e] [10.3k words, one-shot]

(you have to be logged in to read it)

summary:

God, this feels really good. Everything about it; from the size of Tommy’s hand cradling his face, to the gentle yet firm way he sucks Buck’s bottom lip into his warm mouth - to the rough traction of their faint stubble, a slight sound going with it. Men, Buck decides right then and there. Yeah. Men are good, too. disclaimer because i have picked up on some confusion: this is not a friends with benefits > lovers story. they are good friends, but they are not in love. this story embraces the concept of casual and platonic sex, especially between bi/gay men because it tends to be something that is heavily stigmatized.

company through every twist and turn by kitthekazoo [m] [12.2k words, one-shot]

summary:

Five fights that help Buck and Tommy grow closer.

all the vices i can't give up by starryeyedjanai [e] [4.6k words, one-shot]

summary:

It’s kind of second nature at this point—if he’s not sending a picture to Eddie, it’s probably going to Tommy. So his mind must have been running on autopilot when he hit send and now he has to deal with the fact that he accidentally sent Tommy a picture of him with water dripping down his chest, a clear come on. And that Tommy took the bait. or, Tommy doesn’t kiss Buck when he comes over to make things right between them, but Buck still manages to accidentally bag him

while you arranged flowers by newtkelly [e] [4.6k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy’s eyes catch his and Buck is taken aback by the state of them, blown so black and glassy. He always looks so tongue-in-cheek, like he’s in on some joke and waiting for everyone else to catch on. He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Tommy’s composure is waning—the guy who takes on the world with a million dollar smile and a statuesque cleft chin and flies choppers to Vegas on a whim and into Cat 5 hurricanes to help old friends and kisses clarity into men who thought they were finished figuring themselves out, that guy is just as much a slave to his desire as any mortal man, and Buck is winded by the fact that he’s played any part in that. — Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

looking for an ocean breeze/so i can fill my mind with ease by newtkelly [e] [8.8k words, one-shot]

summary:

“Can I top you off?” Buck’s head whips frantically in Tommy’s direction. “Huh?” “Your champagne,” Tommy says with a sooty half-smirk, while Buck irrationally feels like his bluff’s been made. Tommy taps a finger twice against the plastic in his hand. “It’s empty. Can I get you some more?” — Maddie gets married in an emergency room and Buck learns how to ask.

of coming outs and spiderman kisses by alicemcgee [g] [1.9k words, one-shot]

summary:

After coming out to the two most important people in Buck's life, he decides to wait with telling the rest of his friends. he's ready, he just wants to find the right way to do so. Naturally, as this is Buck we're speaking about, things get a little out of his hands. Or should we say mouth?

the ally and the beast by jobairdxx [e] [2.4k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy knows he's late, and he feels awful about it. He so badly wanted to make it to the wedding, but the fire was an absolute inferno that would not go out. When it was finally extinguished and Tommy was given the okay to head out, he jumped in the rig with the rest of his crew, immediately asking them to drop him at the hospital. And of course they had given him grief for it, but he didn't care as long as they got him where he needed to be. When he walks through the ER bay doors and sees Evan, he's instantly apologetic. “Sorry I'm late, that fire was a beast.” But then Evan hits him with a, “So are you,” and grabs him and kisses him, and he wouldn't be able to stop the moan that leaves his mouth if he tried.

i could be the one (or your new addiction) by milominderbinder [t] [4k words, one-shot]

summary:

“You know you’ve got a hard limit on five Tommy mentions per day,” Hen says. She puts one hand on her hip, and the other points accusingly towards the large jar in the middle of the coffee table; once home to Cap’s homemade trail mix, it’s recently been emptied out, labelled the Tommy Jar, and is already stuffed half-full of Buck’s hard-earned dollars. It’s only been four weeks since he came out to everyone. The jar was introduced by the end of week one. With a sigh, Buck reaches for his wallet. He pulls out two dollars, walks over, and stuffs them both into the jar. “That’s one on credit,” he says, “'Cus you have to let me finish the story—" Five times Buck had to put a dollar in the Mentioning Tommy jar during 7x07, and one time nobody was around to catch him.

an outlier that should not be counted by dadvans [e] [7.4 words, one-shot]

summary:

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

flying blind by kat2107 [t] [3.3 words, one-shot]

(have to be logged in to read)

summary:

Evan Buckley loves his boyfriend. He also loves sex. He would love to have sex with his boyfriend. When he gets a bad feeling why Tommy insists on keeping things PG13 way past any necessity, he turns to the only gay firefighter he knows. Consent is easy, right? It's all about the communication. note: There is a hint of bad sexual experiences Tommy had in the past when he was figuring out his sexuality. There is no details but it might be read as lack of consent, though it was more likely a lack of care.

little by little by mediawhore [t] [4.7 words, one-shot]

summary:

‘Some wounds never vanish. Yet little by little, I learned to love my life.’ Mary Oliver Or Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.

you've got the love to see me through by emquin [g] [4.7 words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy's POV throughout 7x06 where he's mostly just exhausted.

down, down, down by sketchytaco [t] [6.2 words, 4/4 chapters]

summary:

He rubs the smudged words on his chest more and more he gets older, wondering where his soulmate is. Wondering if they're thinking of him, if they're close. He wonders what they look like, what they sound like. If they've always been out, or if they're hiding, or even if its someone who hasn't figured themselves out yet.

five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by evcndiaz [m] [1.9 words, one-shot]

summary:

Buck meets God at a gay club. He finds him in an oil-slick puddle on a damp night, neon lights reflecting off the kaleidoscopic liquid in the parking lot. or; Evan Buckley falls in love with himself.

raspberry by evcndiaz [e] [4.4 words, one-shot]

summary:

“do you want to dance with him?” evan raises an eyebrow. “i want to dance with you.” tommy sways forward, nudging his thumb up underneath evan’s jaw so he can tilt his face up and to the side where the man is dancing against some young twenty-something that thinks they have a chance. and hell, maybe they do. but tommy’s not interested in the kid, not tonight at least. he drops his voice, hand snaking down to evan’s ass so he can pull him close. “let me change that: do you want me to see you dancing with him?” evan shivers. bingo. or; sometimes three isn't a crowd. or x2; buck, tommy, and a gay club. things get messy. literally.

evan, elated and euphoric by brewrosemilk [e] [16.5 words, one-shot]

(log in to read it)

summary:

For a moment, that’s all that seems to echo inside of Buck’s head, more than ever before; you have a man on top of you, you are kissing a man; you’re touching a man, and he’s touching you, and you like it. Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment.

a (not so) new hoodie by littlebipolarsunshine [g] [2.8 words, one-shot]

summary:

In which Buck doesn't look very closely when putting on a hoodie before going to work.

learning to fly by captainmintyfresh [m] [56k words, ?/8 chapters]

summary:

A fic inspired by the 7x05 promo Tommy gives Buck the love he deserves. AKA Tommy goes from 0 to whipped as fuck real fast.

#bucktommy #911 abc #otps #911 fanfic

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steddieunderdogfics · 3 days ago

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he could be brave by cuips_not_cute

@cuips-not-cute

Rating: Explicit

29,311 words, 10/10 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Getting Together, Pining, so much pining, Mutual Pining, And Then Some, First Kiss, Making Out, Lots of that, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, steve is lowkey kinda smooth?, and eddie is a disaster because of it, Post-Canon, post s4 v1, but not post v2, Post Vecna, everyone lives because I say so, robin and eddie are bros, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, First Time, Rimming, They're Switches Bitches!, Blowjobs, handjobs, Hair-pulling, Literal Sleeping Together, as well as the slutty kind of sleeping together, Bottom Steve Harrington, Top Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Not Actually Unrequited Love, canon compliant up to ep7 and then i make shit up, Period-Typical Homophobia, eddie "heart-eyes" munson, Protective Steve Harrington, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, they're moron4moron, steve is very very stupid and eddie wants to see him naked, background ronance (used as a plot device bc girls), 69 (Sex Position), (Nice), uh, Grinding, Hickies, finally decided on a chapter count guys, Anal Fisting, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, eddie is all too happy to tell him he's pretty, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, hate that tag, Fuck u Duffers, Multiple Orgasms, this is so soft actually, Porn With Very Little Plot, angst and pining then just filth, but it's all very tender, Slow Burn, for a bit then it's like 20k words of porn, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Ending

Summary:

Eddie Munson isn't very good at puzzles. Well. He can make them, sure, in the form of weeks-long campaigns for his bandmates and a ragtag group of now sophomores he'd come to adore. He's great at making them. Great at making villains that his party thought they'd had figured out, beaten, only to make a quick 180 and have them come back from the dead for a final, earth-shattering fight. Yeah. He can make them. What Eddie Munson can't do when it comes to puzzles, is figure them the fuck out. Especially, it seems, when the puzzle comes in the form of a boy one year younger than him and slightly shorter when you don't count his mass of gorgeous hair that makes him, falsely, look taller than Eddie. This puzzle had saved the world with him, had saved him when he was sure he was a goner. The puzzle's name, of course, is Steve Harrington. King Steve, to many, Hawkins High's golden boy, rich and charming and apparently, a fucking badass. Eddie never stood a chance.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @cuips-not-cute. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #rated e #getting together #pining #smut #slow burn

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paradiseismine · 2 months ago

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Instant Chemistry (part 1) - Finn Wolfhard x reader

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x actress!reader

Warnings: none yet, but of course, this fic will be packed with smut in its future chapters.

Summary: reader is an actress and her agent has a surprise for her - a hot scene in an indie film with one of her favorite actors, Finn Wolfhard.

Format: This is NOT a one shot like the ones I usually post, it’ll likely be a 4 part story (maybe longer).

Love note from Nina: I had a dream about Finnie recently and decided to write it down into a fic. Hope you like it 🫰🏻

Everyone in the industry plays an archetype: that was a given. Some actresses were the goody two shoes, some were femme fatales, some were girls next door. And as crazy as that might sound, you were growing into a femme fatale. That meant that showing some skin and partaking in more sensual roles was bound to happen - and it’s not like it bothered you.

Leo, your agent, had gotten you pretty far for a 22 year old with your background: you had gone from model, to extra in some bigger productions, to main star in a few indie films. You had started acting classes a couple years ago, and was trying really hard to become an actual actress, and make a living solely out of your acting.

One day, you made Leo a huge favor by preventing his future husband of figuring out Leo’s proposal before it actually happened, as it was meant to be a surprise. “I owe you one” he had texted you later that evening, “and I’ll make it count when I pay you back”.

Several weeks had gone by and a project you were once dying to get your hands on was finally going strong. You had gotten home after a long week of shooting your new indie film - a complex and delicate story about a young marginalized prostitute whose dream was to have a romantic relationship and live a normal life. It had some intense sex scenes, but lots of dramatic charge that would surely put your name on the spotlight. With your body exhausted but with your heart smiling, you fell asleep in your new apartment in L.A.

“Morning, rising star” you woke up to Leo texting you, your phone buzzing with his messages. “Remember that one I owe you? Just paid it”.

“lol what did you do?” you responded, the tips of your fingers rushing through the keyboard on your phone screen, curious. Leo was always full of surprises, and you loved that about him.

“You’d told me your fav tv show was stranger things, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, I think I just got one of the ST kids to be with you on a spicy scene next week hehehe” he texted, and your mouth went completely agape. “You’re welcome in advance, darling” he added, his jokingly cocky tone nearly audible.

“omg who????”

And… he didn’t text you back.

Your head was cooking for the entire weekend, trying to figure out which ST actor Leo had convinced to partake in the movie. He had said “ST KIDS”, so it was one of the core four, for sure. You crossed them out in your head after some extensive online research: Noah Schnapp is gay, so he probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such intense sex scenes with a woman… Ok, he’s not it. Gaten Matarazzo is probably busy with some Broadway play, he always is. Not him as well.

Finn Wolfhard is always juggling twenty different gigs at the same time. You wanted him the most, but it was very unlikely he’d take the role. So, Caleb McLaughlin was your best chance. He was surely a darling to work with, you’d heard, so you were still excited to meet him, of course.

As you entered the set on Monday morning, your mind was hung up on the idea that Caleb was your special guest. You’d rehearsed in your head how you’d introduce yourself to him, the things you’d say, everything.

Your brain turned into complete putty once you spotted FINN WOLFHARD sitting on a foldable chair, holding a stack of paper, eyes roaming through the script. Fuck. It was him.

You’d get to kiss him, to rub your body all over him. Not for a minute. Not for an hour. But for a whole day. Heck, maybe even two days. And you’d still get PAID for it. It seemed nearly illegal that a job would do that.

You approached him slowly, trying to gather words into your mouth to simply greet him. Soon, he raised his eyes from the script and spotted you.

- Hi - he smiled sweetly. - You must be y/n, right? I’m Finn, nice to meet you.

He shook your hand politely, and you tried your best to give him a firm handshake (Leo always says that a good handshake is important in a Hollywood career), preventing your fangirl reaction from shining through.

- Oh, hi - you smiled back at him, still trying to seem normal and unimpressed. - That’s me. Should we get to the chemistry read? I’m so excited for this project, you have no idea.

- Me too! I loved the script so much, this is just great - he flipped through the pages, his teeth showing through a cute shy smile.

- Quite a departure from fighting inter dimensional monsters, isn’t it? - you joked.

- Definitely - he laughed, standing up to follow you towards the chemistry reading table.

Once everyone was sat down and settled, the reading began. Finn would be one of your character’s clients, and was only supposed to be in a scene or two, in a cameo appearance type of thing. But at the end of the reading, that seemed likely to change.

The chemistry between the two of you was electric, the director had said. The whole crew was amazed at how naturally you seemed attracted to each other just through your words, how easily the scenes would develop. From a small role, Finn was now asked to play your character’s main love interest.

He called his agent on the spot and pushed back a few band gigs on his schedule and said yes to being half naked with you for a few more days. I mean, the project itself was an indie film, so it wasn’t even good money. His main reason to take the part must’ve been you.

#finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard smut #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x reader #miles fairchild #trevor spengler #imagine #smut #trevor spengler x reader #finn headcanons #finn wolfhard fluff #boris pavlikovsky x reader #ziggy katz x reader #ziggy katz #finnverse #finn wolfhard #finn fluff #Finn wolfhard fics

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e1e4n0r5 · 7 months ago

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Twisted Love: Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Summary: You always expected to marry your twin brother, Daeron. However, when this does not come to be, you find comfort with your siblings. As only Targaryens could.

Minimal smut in this one, we have some angsty conversations.

WARNINGS: canon-typical incest, jealous husband, relationship insecurity, ANGST, group sex, gay (male) penetration, lesbian sex with strap-on

Weeks passed. You enjoyed spending time with Daeron and getting to know each other again. He told you stories of Oldtown and the things he had studied during his years there. You filled him in on the politics inside the Red Keep; which families were trustworthy, which ones were snakes in the grass. You had tried telling him stories about the children, but quickly noted that he did not enjoy them. It saddened you that he wasn’t interested in learning about your children – his nephew and niece – but you could understand, so you didn’t challenge him.

All five of you spent time together walking along the beaches or taking tea in the gardens. You were always so happy to have everyone reunited once more that you didn’t notice the obvious tension brewing between your husband and your twin. They wouldn’t sit together; they would barely speak, and when they did it was subtly antagonistic. You only noticed Aemond’s hand on your thigh or arm around your shoulders, and that his presence was as comforting as it ever was. You didn’t notice Daeron’s sneer at the sight of you two cuddled together, nor Aemond’s cocky smirk to your twin over your head.

But eventually you did notice the tension. You blamed the happy bubble you had been living in since Daeron came home. You had just been so happy to be reunited with him, that it didn’t occur to you that mayhaps not everyone would be as thrilled. You knew Aemond had been tense the day Daeron returned, but you had chalked that up to the change of Daeron being home; it had been the four of you for so long, that you had just assumed adding in another sibling would disturb the status quo Aemond enjoyed. You had assumed Aemond would settle, and soon be happy that his younger brother was home again.

You had been wrong.

The tension felt like it was growing by the day. Once you had started paying attention, you observed Aemond’s jaw tighten every time Daeron entered the room, and how it would stay tight until the brothers were separated again. You watched as Daeron’s shoulders would slump upon seeing you and Aemond sat close together, or whenever your children were present – despite the fact that your two little ones had taken a real shine to their Uncle Daeron and loved being around him. You perceived how Aegon and Helaena interacted somewhat stiffly with the youngest Targaryen-Hightower sibling, like he was a visiting guest rather than their brother. You weren’t sure of the precise reason why they behaved so – was it as not to anger Aemond? Were they just not interested in reconnecting with Daeron?

Everything felt different after that.

The bubble had burst.

Even when you, Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena were together at night, you could only feel the whole time that someone was missing. It now felt wrong for it to be the four of you, knowing that Daeron was by himself in his rooms. Rooms that were connected to the very same passageway that gave your brother and sister entry.

That night, you tried to focus on the pleasure Helaena was offering as she thrust her leather strap into you, but you could only feel distracted. It didn't help to watch Aemond hammer his hips into Aegon’s. You couldn't shake the feeling that Aemond’s angry thrusts were representative of how he was feeling about the whole situation. Aegon didn't care, moaning loudly as he stroked himself whilst his younger brother vigorously filled him. The four of you had been in this arrangement many times before, but it didn't feel right anymore.

Helaena recognised this above you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. “Do you want to stop, hāedar (little sister)?”

You smiled, somewhat sadly. “No, issa doña (my sweet), keep going. I want to be with you.”

“Your mind does,” she whispered in Valyrian, slowing her movements but still maintaining a rhythm, “but your heart feels something is missing, yes?” Tears filled your eyes against your will. Helaena was always so perceptive. “It's alright to feel that way. I don't judge you for it. You have a lot of feelings right now, everything is changing. But all will be well, sister. The dragon has five heads, five hearts. Five hearts become one. Now let us reach completion, and we can start afresh tomorrow.”

Your tears became happy ones at your sister’s words, and you nodded. She picked up her pace again, and you let out your first real moan of the evening, both reaching your ends only a few minutes later.

You would start afresh in the morning.

You and Aemond strolled through the gardens with your children, listening to Maenor chat about how pretty the flowers were, picking one from time to time. You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately even as he protested. Aena was fighting a nap in her father’s arms, but Aemond was unrelenting in his soft singing and rubbing her back. She was slowly losing the fight, tucking her head under his chin as she sucked her fingers, tiny blue eyes taking longer and longer blinks, grunting occasionally as she futilely fought against sleep.

Still smiling, you glanced up, pausing. You saw Daeron on a balcony a few stories above you, looking down at you as you all walked. Even though you couldn't see his face clearly, you could feel through the bond you shared that he was distressed.

You turned to your husband. “I'll be back soon.”

He looked at you, squinting somewhat suspiciously. He had spotted Daeron a few minutes earlier. “Alright. Come back soon; Maenor will want to show you everything he picks.”

You smiled and nodded, beckoning a nanny to step forward and play with Maenor, kissing Aena’s cheek as Aemond held her, before heading off into the castle. You knew your way up to the balcony, hoping Daeron would still be there.

He was.

You approached him from behind, watching his still back as he rested his hands on the stone railing around the balcony.

“Daeron?” you spoke softly, coming to stand next to him. You lightly touched his back, feeling him tense under your hand.

“Everything is so different now. Everyone.”

“Time has passed,” you concurred. “But we’re all family, still. And you’re home now.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re a married woman.”

You flinched that time. “Yes. I have been for a few years now.”

“Aemond is your husband,” his face twisted into what could only be described as a sneer. “I could have imagined you marrying a Lannister, maybe even a Stark or Baratheon. But Aemond... Being his wife has changed you.”

You frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

“He makes your plate for you,” he said in disgust. “Does he truly think you so incapable, or himself so superior, that he gets to choose what you eat and how much? I would never dream of treating you that way! It’s an insult, Y/N, can’t you see that?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Then I suppose I must have changed, because I like that Aemond does that for me. Yes, he does it for me,” you insisted. “He asks me what I want, and he makes my plate for me. He has never once told me what I can and cannot have; if I want something, he gets it without question. I like it; it makes me feel like he’s taking care of me. It’s not him being controlling, or a brute; it’s a way that he shows me he’s looking after me and my body.”

“One of the many ways he brags.”

Before you could retort angrily, he continued. He watched Aemond and the children below. “You named your son Maenor,” he said, a disdainful curl to his nose.

Your hackles rose at the mention of your child. Putting your shoulders back and standing tall, you snapped, “What of it?”

“When we were growing up and thinking of names we would give our children, you always said you hated the name Rhaenor.”

“Which is still true-”

“But that you loved Maelon.”

“Again, true-”

“So why would you choose Maenor?” he demanded, his fist banging the stone railing.

You floundered. “We liked the name-”

“And then Helaena names her son Maelor! Why in the world would she choose such a similar name?”

“Because we were pregnant at the same time; our sons were born within the week.”

Daeron put his head in his hands, shaking in frustration. “But don't you see? We can never use the name Maelon now! The two names are already so similar; there can't be Maenor, Maelor, and Maelon! That would be ridiculous!”’

You calmed, suddenly understanding where Daeron was coming from. He wasn't just upset about some names sounding similar; he was grieving. “Our sons will have other names.”

He shook his head, looking at you with tears in his eyes. “I've always dreamed of having a son with you called Maelon, Y/N!” he wept. “When I was alone in Oldtown, I would picture our life together: me and you; our son Maelon; our daughter Daela... And now he's gone, Maelon’s gone. The son I've been dreaming of for years will never exist now! You've taken my children from me, don’t you understand!” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

Your own eyes filled with tears. “We’ll have our children, Daeron-”

“How?! You married Aemond!”

“I had to,” you protested, no idea that your husband was right around the corner, listening to every word. “I didn’t know when you would be coming home, or even if mother and grandsire would allow you to return. I challenged them why we weren’t betrothed, and they said they might need alliances with other Houses. I refused to be married off, so I asked Aemond to wed me. To keep me here. So that we could all be together again one day. So you could come home to me.”

Aemond had had enough. He stalked off down the corridor, not hearing what you said next.

“I love Aemond. I love him madly, he is a part of me. As are my children. As are you. As are Aegon and Helaena. You all have my heart. But he is my husband, Daeron. I will not – cannot – choose you over him. I want us all to stay together, I don’t want you to be the only one not with us. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing. I can see that, plain as day. You need to be here, idaña. Will you try that? Will you try staying with us?”

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “He’s rubbing it in my face, Y/N. Like he won a prize, taunting me that you're his wife and that I'm alone.”

“I know,” you nodded, hugging Daeron tightly. “I’ll talk to him.”

That evening after dinner, you and Aemond returned to your rooms. He hadn’t said a word all night. He had made your plate for you, like he always did, but he didn’t speak a word to anyone. He also didn’t touch you. He didn’t hold your hand, touch your thigh, rest his hand in the small of your back... Nothing.

Your handmaids helped you out of your dress and into your sleepwear, then the nanny brought in Maenor and Aena. Maenor had had a bad dream and wanted comfort, which had woken Aena and she was then refusing to go back to sleep. Aemond picked up your son, cuddling him as the young boy pressed his tear-stained face into his father’s neck. You took Aena and sat down, nursing her in your usual armchair by the fire.

“Thank you,” you said to the nanny in a soft voice, “we’ll take them back to the nursery ourselves when they’re feeling better.”

She nodded and curtsied, leaving you all alone.

The only sounds in the room were the fire crackling, Aena nursing at your chest, and Maenor’s soft sniffles and deep breaths which were gradually calming down. You don’t know how long you wait before you speak.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong now, or after our children are asleep?”

Aemond glanced at you. “I don’t know what-”

“Don’t, Aemond. Don’t even try that. You’ve been off all night. Something is wrong. Something has happened. So you can either tell me now, or when the children are asleep. When would you prefer?”

Your husband didn’t respond. He turned and sat down in the armchair opposite you, holding Maenor against his chest, his large hand rubbing soothing circles against his back.

He continued to be silent, so you did too. Fine, he would tell you later. After a while, Aena finished nursing on one side, so you switched her to the other. Maenor had also fallen back asleep, his breathing now slow and steady in his father’s arms.

“You were talking to Daeron earlier,” Aemond stated, looking into the fireplace.

You raised your head. “I was. You were listening, weren’t you? And what did you hear?”

His jaw clenched. “That he longs for children with you, which you seemingly want too. That you only married me because you didn’t want to be sold off to another House.”

You sighed through your nose. “Then you didn’t hear the entire conversation.”

“So you deny it?”

“No. I did ask you to marry me after Mother and Grandsire told me that they hadn’t married Daeron and I because they might have wanted alliances with other Houses. That’s true. You knew that the day we married; you all came into my rooms and I was crying.”

“So you did only marry me to escape some Lord in a castle somewhere,” he accused.

You said firmly, “I chose you to be my husband because I love you. Yes, the reason for us marrying so suddenly was political, but don’t you ever question my love for you. I’ve always loved you, Aemond. I’m delightfully happy being your wife, and I believe I can say the same for you as my husband. Or are you not happy?”

“I am happy.”

“So why are you doubting this now? Because Daeron is back? Because you think I’ve just been waiting for him, and my life with you has just been an exercise in passing time?”

He sulked, his hand still stroking up and down your son’s back. “You always wanted to marry Daeron. We only wed because you were about to be married off and you needed to prevent that.”

“If I had wanted to prevent myself being married to a stranger, I could have just laid with you for one night, ruined my reputation. Or I could have married Aegon as his second wife. But I didn’t. I chose to marry you, to be your wife. To spend my life with you, until my last breath. Have you forgotten that? Has the return of my twin, your brother, given you amnesia of the vows I spoke?” you snapped.

“You and Daeron were always meant to be wed.”

“Well apparently, we weren’t! Mother and Grandsire sent Daeron away to prevent our marriage, it was never going to be allowed to happen. They sent him away when they realised that our desire to marry wasn’t some little childhood infatuation or dream. They sent him away as quickly as they could and they wouldn't let him come home. They were never going to allow us to marry,” you enforced.

“You couldn’t have been sure of that. You married me in desperation and anger. I was never going to be your first choice.”

“Like I was yours? I heard you at Laena Velaryon's funeral; you said to Aegon that you would have gladly wed Helaena had the two of you been betrothed. You infuriate me, Aemond,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I can’t take back how I felt in the past, and I won’t apologise for it. Daeron and I had always been close, we had no reason to believe that we would not be allowed to wed one day. But I’ve always loved you, Aemond. How could you doubt that? I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t love you. If Daeron and I had been allowed to marry when we were eight-and-ten, I would have taken you as a second husband the moment the ceremony between Daeron and I was complete.” That made Aemond’s head shoot up. “Does that really surprise you? You truly thought I didn’t care for you at all before our wedding?”

He said nothing.

That broke your heart a little. “You’ll note I also haven’t run off with Daeron now that he’s back, as you seem to think I’m so desperate to do.”

“But you would have him join us? The four of us become five?”

It was a test, you knew it.

“If he chose to, yes. I would have us all be together. It seems so unfair to exclude just one of us.”

“But you would choose him over us in a heartbeat,” he accused. “The moment he asks-”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Aemond,” you cursed him in Valyrian, not wanting your children to hear your words. Your strong language took him by surprise, and he did indeed stop talking. “I would not. I would never. I knew that even before we were married, when I thought there was still a possibility of marrying Daeron. I knew I would not give any of you up, and I knew that if he had asked me to, I would have refused to marry him.” That visibly shocked Aemond. “You are all my family and I love you all. I would not give up any of you; not for Daeron, not for you. Not for anybody. Do you hear me? The King himself could order me to do so, and I would refuse. I would let him disown me, bastardise my children, take my titles and privileges, take everything from me, before I gave up any of you.” Little Aena finished nursing, letting out a small sleepy sound as she released your breast. You kept your eyes on your husband, moving Aena up to your shoulder, rubbing her back in firm circles as you got to your feet. You approached him, staring down at him as he held your son. “Do you understand me now, husband? Is that clear enough for you?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

He had never loved you more.

@watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @aemondsdelight @thelittleswanao3 @misspascalpunk @heavenly1927 @probablybraindamage @theoneepileptic @sabii5 @baellabass @sleepymikmik @butterfliesflewaway @immyowndefender

#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #twisted love #daeron targaryen #aemond x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader

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lifeafterartsch00l · 2 months ago

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The answer is yes, yes they have plz see below~

✨MY FAVE KAKAIRU FICS✨

A change of pace this week from the usual sasunaru programming to celebrate Naruto’s gay dads, feat. my terrible memes

As per usual, I’ll try and find the authors to tag them, if you know who they are on tumblr, plz tag them in the comments! 💖

He ships it

Worship by decaf_kitty

Careful it’s hot 🥵

Beloved decaf kitty, may your coffee never be bitter, may your pillow be the perfect temperature, and you never get writer’s block ❤️ amen! Please read this one shot it’s AMAZING

“Additional Tags: Slow Build, Romance, Resolved Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Begging, Inappropriate Use of the Sharingan

Summary: Late at night, Kakashi and Iruka randomly meet at a ramen stand... One little conversation later, they're in Kakashi's bedroom, with Iruka on his knees, and a blushing Kakashi staring down at the sensei between his bare thighs”

Kintsugi by The_Rivers_Dark

She ships it

I excitedly followed each new chapter release of this fic 💕 most incredible descriptions of intimacy, a fantastic writer 💕 also Tsunade tries to meddle and it’s just terrific (read it to find out if it works tehe) 💕 so wonderful, a comforting fic like a warm hug (but also really sexy idk man I’m not a writer clearly haha).

“Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, less hurt more comfort, Comfort, hurt comfort that turns to comfort, hurt comfort that turns to comfort erotica, comfort erotica, Erotica, mutual pining to mutual love, Love, Romance, Smut, Shameless Smut, Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, come for the erotica stay for the comfort, come for the comfort stay for the erotica, if it’s broken fix it and never let it out of your sight again, painting with muted colours never suited my literary palette, Tsunade as a cockblock device and a meddler, plot arc what plot arc, pacing what pacing, Whirlwind Romance, we’re all about the comfort here, Roommates, And then they were roommates, Eventual marriage, Marriage, they get married at the end, Getting Together, Sweet/Hot, Happy Ending, for all you Kakashi-level perverts out there sexy tags include but are not limited to, Frotting, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Nipple Play, 69 (Sex Position), Spanking, Fingerfucking, Blindfolds, it doesn’t count as a threesome if one of them is a shadow clone, Sweet, Spicy, sweet and spicy, Rimming, Snippet beta we die like Akatsuki villains only to be resurrected again, Domestic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Idiots in Love, Light Bondage, versatile lovers, Top Hatake Kakashi, Top Umino Iruka, Belonging

Summary:

Kintsugi: The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of an object's history, rather than something to disguise.

(Iruka gets heavily injured in a mission gone wrong. Problem is, Tsunade knows he won't stay in the hospital long enough to recuperate. Kakashi finds himself volunteering to be his carer. As they get closer, the tension between them reaches a boiling point. Complete.)”

Unspoken by RenGoneMad

Incredible canon-compliant rewrite where Kakashi and Iruka meet much earlier (kind of, you’ll see). And Kakashi has a long time cruuuuuuush 😜 the banter/flirting is really cute. The pacing and development of the relationship is so so good! The way the author gets into their heads is just great. Both 🔥 & heartwarming! ❤️

“Additional Tags: Romance, Slow Burn, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Fluff and Angst, Hatake Kakashi-centric, POV Hatake Kakashi, Secret Identity, Canon Compliant, Canon - Manga, Complete, Kissing, Sexual Tension, Obsession, But not unhealthy or creepy, Pining, Stalking, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Suicide, (as complies with canon)

Summary: The memorial stone should be a place to mourn the dead, a place to remember the many sins and failures that haunt Hatake Kakashi.

To Iruka, it's a place to speak to his parents, and the mysterious ANBU who listens.

Follows Kakashi from ages 14 to 29, and the many ways Iruka changes his life”

The Outcasted by yeou_bi

Sensual, erotic, all without anything explicit (yet?). They way they’re falling in love is so cute 😭 Just lovely ❤️ I hope the author writes more chapters! 😊🤞🏽

“Chapters: 3/?

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Additional Tags: Hospitalization, Illnesses, References to Illness, Loneliness, POV Alternating, Present Tense, Skin diseases, Slow Burn, Denial of Feelings, Nausea, Touch-Starved, Touching, Hurt/Comfort, Pandemics, Dysfunctional Relationships, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Bullying, Discrimination

Summary: During the outbreak of a mysterious disease, Kakashi finds himself sharing a clinic room with Iruka.

What begins as simple moments of sharing the same burden slowly turns confusing. When physical touch could mean an infection, it also becomes a commodity that's hard to come by for those who are recovering”

Thank you to all the talented authors! 💕

#Naruto #kakairu #hatake kakashi #kakashi sensei #kakashi #iruka umino #iruka sensei #kakashi x iruka #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #my fic recs #lifeafterartsch00l fic recs #iruka #archive of our own #a03 author #a03 writer #a03 fanfic #a03 link #a03 fic #read on a03

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lefteagleblizzard · 14 days ago

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: A year has passed since Hannah and Beth's disappearance after the prank and Josh has invited everyone back to the lodge to relive old memories. But when you and Mike take a detour to the cabin, the night spirals into a nightmare beyond anything you imagined. Now, you're thrust into a desperate fight for survival as a vengeful Wendigo prowls the mountain, hungry for flesh and revenge.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Takes place during the events of the game. Mike and Emily/Jess are not together in this. No use of Y/N. Mike and the reader are now together. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex. More plot than porn. Lots of characters deaths, some more explicit but nothing too graphic. Happy ending?

Part 2 of 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔡𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥. The chapters that i focused on are chapter 1-3-4-7-8-10 to anyone interested <3. When you see long spaces it means that we are moving to the next chapter. I hope nothing is too confusing, i tried my best.

Words count: 12000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

The sky is tinged with fading sunlight, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered mountains.

The place is quieter than usual. With just you, Mike and Ashley here so far, it feels almost peaceful.

Josh is nowhere to be seen, likely off searching for a way to enter the lodge, and Mike is beside you, his arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he takes a look at the place.

You're leaning on one of the woody rail nearby, hand playing with the snow there.

"You’re excited to see Chris again?" You asked Ashley quietly, leaning against Mike and feeling a warmth settle in your chest at the sight of her expression.

She looks up from her phone and a slight blush spreads across her cheeks "Well... he's always excited to be here, right? I mean, we're all friends."

"That's why you've checked your phone about a hundred times in the last ten minutes?"

She bites her lip, a flustered laugh escaping her as she glances away. "I was just... you know, checking the time, that's all."

"Of course," you reply, letting your voice carry the full weight of your teasing. "You two would be great together, though. You know that?"

"Thanks," she murmurs, glancing up at you with a look of gratitude before looking down at her phone.

You feel Mike shift beside you, and his hand finds yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle, familiar way that sends a pleasant warmth up your arm.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers something just for you to hear. "What do you say, handsome?" he murmurs. "Think we could sneak off for a bit? Just you, me, and a cozy little spot out back?" His hand drifts lower behind your back to playfully squeeze your butt. "I know a lot of ways to warm you up. Want to experience them yourself?"

You snort, rolling your eyes as a flush creeps up your cheeks. "I'm not doing that out here in the cold. You'll have to wait."

"You're worth waiting for," he grumbles, flashing that grin again to you.

"I'm going to check if Sam and Chris are here yet," you say, glancing up at him and kissing his lips quickly . "Be back soon."

Mike raises a hand in a lazy wave as he watched you walking away. "I'll be here, waiting patiently... or impatiently, whatever comes first."

You've started to run down the path for fun, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Memories of your year with Mike drift through your mind, one after another. The excitement and nervousness of your first date, that late-night drive to a quiet lookout. The countless messages he'd send daily, even when he was busy, letting you know he was thinking about you or the way he looks at you like you're the only person who matters. The cold seems to fade, replaced by a warmth that fills you from head to toe.

The anniversary of those memories is just around the corner, and the thought of spending it with him brings a grin to your face.

Soon enough, you see two familiar faces behind a closed door. You rushed there in time and pressed the button to open it.

Sam's face lights up as she pulls you into a tight hug. "It's been ages! How's it been?” she says, her voice full of genuine happiness.

You chuckle, patting her shoulder as you step back. "Good! Life's good. And you? How's everything been?"

She shrugs, a wry smile on her face. "Nothing that exciting to know. I hope everything will go well this weekend" her face shifted for a second as she glanced back at the lodge far ahead.

Chris steps forward, his smile wide as he gives you a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Hey, man. Glad you could make it. I saw all the stories and posts Mike put on his socials. Someone gave you a little push in the right direction, eh?"

You nod, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Yeah, we are. He's... well, he's pretty amazing. Guess he hasn’t figured out how weird I am yet. Finger crossed for another year of him tolerating me"

Chris laughed loudly together with you. "Damn, look at that! I knew my matchmaking skills were top-notch." He gestures to himself with a mock bow. Sam stifles a laugh, giving you a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah, because you totally did all the work," she teases, nudging him with her elbow.

You can't help the fondness that fills you as you open your arms and pull both of them into a spontaneous group hug. "Missed my besties," you say, squeezing them both.

Chris groans playfully, though he leans in, and Sam laughs, wrapping her arms around you, warmth flooding through the three of you.

Sam pulls back a little, looking up at you with a thoughtful smile. "So, wanna do some hiking trip this weekend? Or are you too busy with... boyfriend things?"

You laugh, nodding eagerly. "Of course, I'll make time for it. Want to add some climbing as well?" You glance over at Chris, adding with a grin, "I think Ashley's been looking forward to seeing you, too”

Chris freezes, his face paling slightly as he stares at you with wide eyes. "Wait, what did you tell her?"

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What do you mean? I just mentioned a few things. Gave her a heads-up that you were excited to see her."

Sam bites back a laugh, watching Chris squirm with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "Relax, Chris. It's not like she doesn't already know. You're kind of obvious, you know?"

Chris groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is going to be a nightmare," he mutters, but there's a small, almost shy smile on his face, like he's secretly looking forward to it.

The three of you head back up toward the lodge, chatting and catching up as you walk, the snow crunching underfoot as the familiar outline of the building comes into view.

You see Mike leaning against the wall. His eyes light up when he sees you and he pushes off the wall, making his way over.

“You made me wait way too long” he teases, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulls you close.

You roll your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Please. You'd have followed me down if I took any longer."

"Damn right I would have," he replies, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. "Can't let my favorite guy get too far out of sight."

All four of you catch up on everything you missed out on each others in this days.

Josh, fighting with the frozen handle, calls Chris over for some help. Chris nods toward him and you went to follow to help and get the chance to talk with Josh after all this time

The decision you made a year ago, involving Hannah, still haunted you. It only grew worse with each passing day after her and Beth’s disappearance. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with him without the crushing weight of guilt for what had happened to his sisters.

He doesn't look up right away, his shoulders tense, jaw set. For a moment, he's just staring at the door, like he's somewhere far away. Finally, he turns, his face relaxing into a grin.

Chris, concern evident in his voice, asks, "You doing okay?"

Josh nods, though there's a hesitation there, something unspoken. "Yeah. Just past it now, you know? Ready for a weekend with my friends. Let's make it memorable."

Josh then turns to look at you with an unexpected question, almost casually asking, "Let’s say you’re in a life-or-death situation. Who do you save? The person you’ve got a crush on or Chris, your best friend?"

The question catches you off guard. Chris blinks, staring at Josh in confusion while you feel your own stomach twist in discomfort. You laugh it off at first but Josh doesn't drop it, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Answer honestly. It would mean reaffirming the loyalty and depth of your friendship, showing that friendship holds a unique importance to you, separate from romantic affection.

Deflect with humor. Joking about the choice would ease the tension. Chris might laugh it off and Josh's curiosity would go unsatisfied. However it would hint that maybe you're avoiding vulnerability.

Answer honestly

You rest a hand on Chris's shoulder, meeting Josh's gaze with a steady look. "I'd save Chris," you say, your voice calm but sincere. "A crush isn't enough to put a friend's life at risk or, you know, my own life. In that case you would cover me up, right?" You winked at Chris at the last part, hoping to ease the tension that Josh brought. Chris's expression shifts, softening, his eyes reflecting a gratitude that goes unspoken. A flicker of recognition passes through his gaze, something understood as he analyzed your words carefully.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ��𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"So that means you'd pick me over Mike?" he teases, his voice light and a grin present on his face.

You laugh, nudging him lightly. "That’s a different story! Especially now that I've been together with him for almost a year. If a psycho for some reason forces me to make a choice between you two, I'll probably just throw myself off a cliff or something"

The snow crunched beneath your feet as you followed Mike, your breaths visible in the chill mountain air. Ahead, the small cabin came into view, a hidden little nook away from the lodge where Mike said he wanted to take you to.

On the way there, you came across a small and old looking building where Mike strode over, walking inside through the missing door. You waited, your curiosity piqued as you heard the sounds of him rummaging around.

A moment later, he reappeared, holding a mask, rusty and all black. He slipped it on, the mask completely covering his face.

"C'mere, gimme a kiss" he teased, his voice muffled behind the mask. He leaned forward, the masked face inching closer, but you recoiled, scrunching your nose in mock disgust.

“Mike, that thing probably had more mouths on it than a barstool"

He pauses, considering your words, then yanks it off, wincing in disgust. "Fair point."

He tosses the mask aside and wrapped his arm around you as you continue walking.

An horrible sound echoed from a distance, followed by a scream of pain from an deer. You soon enough spotted one lying off the path breathing heavily, its body twisted at an unnatural angle. A large gash along its neck. You glance at Mike, who steps forward and tries to think of what to do.

Put an End to Its Suffering. The deer's labored breaths shudder through the cold air. He could end it now, spare the creature further pain, the mercy quick and final.

Comfort the Deer. The creature lies there, its body trembling from pain and fear. He could try to soothe it, offer it a few last moments of peace, a kindness amidst the cruelty of the wilderness.

He takes a slow breath, crouching down, his hand reaching out and he makes his choice.

Put an end to it’s suffering

There's a serious look in his eyes as he kneels beside it, placing a steady hand on the deer to calm it. "You, uh... might want to look away."

But you don't. You watch as he tries to do the humane thing and took a step forward to try and help him out but he moves his hands, trying to get a solid grip and with an unexpected crunch, the wound worsens and the deer's head comes off in his hands.

Mike recoils, eyes wide, dropping the head immediately. "Oh, holy-!" he takes a shaky step back, brushing his hands on his jeans with a horrified expression.

You're just as stunned, your own eyes wide as you take in the surreal sight but something rustles nearby and snatch the deer's body, dragging it off into the woods with surprising speed

“Run!" Mike grabs your hand, the fear and adrenaline sending you both flying back toward the chalet. Snow kicks up in clouds beneath your boots as you sprint, your heart pounding with the thrill and terror of whatever that creature was. The wind cuts cold against your face but you barely feel it as you focus on Mike's hand holding yours pulling you forward.

"Don't let go!" he calls, glancing back every few steps to make sure you're right there beside him.

The cabin looms ahead and as soon as you reach the door, he shoves it open, practically pulling you inside before slamming it shut behind you. Both of you stand there, breathing hard, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you process what just happened.

“Maybe it was a bear?” Mike tried to make sense of the situation you experienced.

“I didn’t see or hear a bear, though” there is a drop of sweat already present on your forehead.

“Don’t think about it. Whatever animal it was, it can’t come here inside”

You sank into the couch, the air inside the cabin was carrying a faint scent of cedar and something earthy. You glanced over at Mike who plopped down right next to you, his body pressing close.

He leaned back, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch. His hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers settling there naturally, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"You know," he said, his voice low and filled with a familiar warmth, I may have asked Josh if we could stay here tonight. Just us, in this cozy little love shack." He turned to look at you, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint that made your heart skip a beat.

"Didn't expect to be sweating out here with you for saving my life," you replied, a playful tone in your voice.

He let out a soft laugh, his fingers giving a light squeeze on your thigh.“If you think this heat is something, wait until we really turn it up.” he teased back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Something catches his attention and he gets up from the couch. Mike's eyes narrow playfully as he raises his chin in a mock proud stance, grabbing a old rifle from its spot by the wall and lifting it.

"Look. I'd make an amazing hunter, don’t you think?" he boasts, posing with the rifle as if he were an expert marksman. "Picture it: me coming back every day with something new for you. Deer, elk, maybe even a bear if I'm feeling ambitious."

You snicker, crossing your arms as you lean back. "Right. And we’ll celebrate the collection by starting with the head of that deer with something written on it like: 'Local Hero Mike Munroe terrorized by Bambi’"

"Oh, you're hilarious," he mutters, setting the rifle aside as he strides over to you. "Keep that up and see what it gets you." He tossed his jacket aside as he felt the heat from the run catching up to him, remaining in a simple white tank top despite the weather outside.

"Oh, really?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow as you edge off the couch to toss your jacket on the table.

“If you're gonna make fun of me, you'd better be ready to back it up."

Before you knew it, he was lunging toward you, and you darted off, laughing as you escaped successfully around the other side of the couch, watching as he straightened up.

He raises an eyebrow, moving a few steps closer, his gaze playful but intense. He tilts his head, letting his gaze drift over you in a way that makes you feel hot inside. "Are you ready to lose?"

He lunges forward, his movements quick, almost catching you by surprise again, but you dart around him in time, laughing as you stay just out of reach.

Mike lets out a mock growl, his eyes narrowing as he starts to close the distance between you. "you're only making it worse for yourself." he says, his voice a soft, teasing murmur as he edges closer, arms wide open to catch any possible attempts you could make to slip away.

"How's that?" you challenge, keeping your distance as you hide behind the other side of the couch.

"Because when I catch you, it's going to be twice as sweet." and he lets out a playful growl, quickening his pace as he closes the distance between you and with a sudden burst of speed, he leapt over the couch, landing just in front of you. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

He leaned forward, one of his arm slipped underneath your knees and you were playfully hitting him on the shoulder to break free.

With a grunt, he managed to lift you up bridal style and dropped you on the couch.

Soon he pulled himself on top of you, hovering over your body completely, his weight keeping you trapped underneath him.

"Caught you," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek as he looked down at you, his expression both triumphant and adoring.

"Alright, alright, you won," you whispered, feeling the heat rise in your face. But he didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his hold, tilting his head as his gaze softened, his fingers tracing slow, gentle patterns at your waist.

"Couldn't have asked for a better catch," he asked, his voice a low, teasing drawl. He leaned in, his lips brushing just barely against yours. Words got caught in your throat as he closed the distance, his mouth pressing firmly against yours, deep and insistent.

His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, a kind of hunger in the way he holds you close, like he's savoring every second.

You respond, your hands slipping around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Mike's hands slipped under your shirt, his touch firm as he dragged it over your head and tossed it aside.

He wasted no time, his lips returning to yours with fervor, his tongue pressed against yours, demanding and eager to get a taste.

His hands moved lower, undoing the button of your pants with practiced ease, and before you knew it, you were standing half-naked in front of him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

His hands roaming over your skin, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest. His body pressing against yours as he continued his relentless assault on your senses.

His fingers worked at your waistband, pulling your pants down in one swift motion before he settled between your legs.

"You're so damn perfect," Mike growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. His light beard scraped tantalizingly against your flesh with every heated kiss. His lips moved with a possessive urgency, exploring your neck, trailing down with his hands.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach. Mike's hunger only fueled at the sight of you like this and when he finally reached between your legs, your body arched off the bed, desperate for more

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. The vibration of your moans against his mouth made everything ten times better for him.

He kept stroking you and you curl into him.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans, rubbing his hardening self against your own with no remorse or embarrassment.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction. You buckle his belt to pull him out of his jeans and boxers and he reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you. "Ready?" he rasped, his voice thick with need.

"Fuck! Yes pleas-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

He slid his hand between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your entrance. You could feel the anticipation building as he teased you, his touch deliberate and calculated.

Mike's fingers slid inside you slowly, stretching you open as he worked you with a steady rhythm that had you trembling beneath him.

His free hand gripped your hip, holding you firmly in place as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out of you with expert precision, curling at the right spot that made you arche your back. You could feel the heat building in your core, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust of his hand.

"So perfect," Mike murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You could barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as he continued his relentless pace.

Just as you were on the verge to fall apart, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more.

The head of his length is now nudging at your entrance. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pushes forward, sinking into you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely.

Mike groans softly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him as he stretched you open.

Mike groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself to the hilt, his body trembling with restraint.

"Fuck" his voice a low growl as he began to move, setting a slow, agonizing pace that had you panting for breath.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he thrust into you, his movements steady and deliberate. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body tightening around him as he pushed you closer to the edge.

The small room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breathing, the wet slap of skin against skin as Mike drove into you, his pace relentless. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you, the pleasure building until it was almost unbearable.

"Mike," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm close."

He groaned in response, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing with the effort. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust into you harder, faster.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your body trembling with the need to let go. And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, pleasure washing over you in waves as you came apart beneath him.

Mike followed soon after, his body tensing as he buried himself inside you one last time, his release spilling into you as he grunted against your lips.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room the ragged gasps of your breath. Mike's body was warm and solid against yours, his hands still gripping your hips as he slowly came down from his high.

Finally, he pulled and collapsed on top of you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

Minutes passed and were spent with him relaxing against you. Each quick, playful kiss he placed on your neck ignited a flutter of joy in your heart. With every stroke of your fingers through his hair, he let out a contented sigh, leaning into your touch.

The quiet piece is shattered suddenly by the loud sound of glass breaking. Both you and Mike freeze, your smiles fading as the unexpected noise jolts you back to reality.

"What the hell was that?" Mike mutters, already standing up and moving toward the sound with a look of concern etched on his face.

You pulled your shirt back on and stood up, heart pounding as you followed him a few steps. "Stay here," he says, glancing back at you.

You hesitate, a twinge of anxiety creeping in but nod as he heads toward the other room where the sound came from. You slipped back on your jeans while moving over to the window, pulling aside the curtains to peer out into the night, searching for anything unusual.

Something on the snow caught your attention just outside, right here in front of the stairs.

Lean closer to Investigate. Curiosity gnaws at you, an urge to move and see for yourself. It’s right here outside. One quick look can't hurt... right?

Inform Mike about it. It hopefully won’t disappear soon despite the snow falling rapidly. You can go and inform Mike about it along with also seeing what happened with the window.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. And in a single, decisive moment, you make your choice.

Lean closer to investigate

A faint shimmer appear, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Curiosity gets the better of you and without a second thought, you lean closer to the window. Your warm breath fog the window but not enough for it to be at the same height of your eyes.

Footsteps oddly spaced stretch from the edge of the woods toward the chalet. There's something... wrong about them, something that makes your skin crawl. The tracks don't look human, they're wider, deeper, and almost clawed. They're fresh, not yet filled in by drifting snow and tinted in red crimson blood. Whatever made these prints is close. Too close.

You turned around when you heard Mike coming back, his voice confused as he told you about something that broke the window.

You barely had time to inform him about what you saw before the glass behind you shatters and claws dig into your shoulders as you're pulled back, helpless against the force dragging you

You soon made contact with the snow as you got dragged further and further away from the cabin and into the woods.

The thing holding you is relentless, hauling you over snow and rock with an unnatural speed that makes your head spin. Fear crashes over you like a wave, cold and consuming. You thrash, trying to free yourself, your hands scraping against hard, rough skin.

You hear from not far the frantic shouts of a voice you know well. Mike. He's chasing after you, calling your name in a voice filled with fear and desperation but you can barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears.

All you can think about is survival.

Desperately, you claw at the ground, fingers scrambling for anything to slow down the creature dragging you deeper into the trees. Your hand brushes against something solid, a branch half-buried in the snow. Without a second thought, you grab it and slam it upward, striking the creature’s arm.

The creature hisses, a guttural, furious sound that shakes your bones, but its grip loosens just enough for you to tear yourself free, stumbling forward and landing face-first in the snow. Cold bites at your skin as you scramble to your feet, legs already aching from the strain, but you can't afford to stop.

Not now.

Your injuries slow you down. Blood seeps from your arms and legs, leaving a trail as you push through the forest. Every breath feels like fire in your chest, your vision blurring around the edges as you force yourself forward, stumbling over rocks and roots.

In the distance, Mike's voice reaches you, a lifeline you cling to even as fear claws at your heart. You risk a glance back, just a fleeting second, and see him from afar, rifle in hand, his eyes wide with terror as he takes in your disheveled form and the blood marking your path.

He shouts your name desperately, his voice is raw, terrified and it propels you forward with renewed urgency.

But before you can reach him, the creature catches your ankle, sending you sprawling to the ground once more. Pain jolts through you as you hit the frozen earth, your vision going dark for a split second as it kept moving forward deep inside the woods and far away from Mike until you could no longer see him.

It stopped abruptly, it’s clawed hand slashes through the air, inches from your face, before a bright flash of light erupts behind it.

A burst of flame cuts through the night, illuminating the creature's twisted form as it recoils with a screech, backing away from the intense heat. You blink, disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the sudden glow. A figure stands a few feet away, wielding a flamethrower with a practiced ease, his face covered by a mask and big glasses for the snow.

"Get up," he barks, the command cold and unyielding. "Follow me, now."

Still dazed and struggling to catch your breath, you hesitate and the stranger's moves closer, the flames licking dangerously close as he gestures again with the flamethrower.

"I said, move."

With no other option, you stagger to your feet, following him as he leads you through the trees. Blood drips down your leg, each step a painful reminder of your injuries, but fear propels you onward. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, hoping to see Mike but to not success.

From a distance, Mike watches, heart pounding as he tracks your struggling form, his pulse surging with terror and fury.

He sees you stumbling through the snow, your face pale and stricken, blood streaking your clothes and painting the ground beneath you. His stomach twists painfully. His hands tighten on the old rifle he'd grabbed from the cabin, fingers white with the grip.

His eyes flick to the figure standing near you, holding a flamethrower. Mike can't make out the man's face due to the position but he's close enough to see the way the stranger's hand grips your arm, steering you with a harsh, unyielding authority.

A surge of rage floods Mike's chest into something cold and vengeful.

He shouts, his voice cracking with a desperation he can't hide but you’re too far away for him to hear. He raises the rifle, leveling it with a single, fierce purpose. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, drowning out the sounds around him. All he can think about is protecting you, keeping you safe, stopping this man who had the nerve to lay his hands on you.

He pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens.

Mike stares at the gun, disbelief and frustration crashing over him in a sickening wave. His hands tremble as he frantically checks the rifle, but it's no use. The damn thing's too old, a relic that was never meant for anything more than decoration.

“Jammed up piece of shit” he muttered to himself as he tossed the gun on the ground but not before taking the sight off.

His fists clench, anger and self-loathing simmering just beneath the surface. If he'd only been quicker. If he'd only gotten to you sooner.

You stumble over your own feet as the stranger pulls you forward, his hand gripping your arm with an iron strength that doesn't allow for argument or hesitation. Your head throbs and a nauseating chill seeps into your bones

He's silent, his face obscured by the mask he is wearing. You're not sure whether you should be more afraid of the creature that attacked you or of this stranger.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask, your voice rough, scraping against the quiet. Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep it in check, trying to sound braver than you feel.

The stranger’s grip tightens, his voice low and cold as he finally speaks. "To the sanatorium. Only place you'll be safe."

Safe? You can't help the bitter laugh that escapes, but it sounds foreign even to your ears, tinged with the underlying fear that pulses with each beat of your heart. "And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He doesn't respond, his silence as solid as stone. You're struck by the thought that maybe he doesn't care if you trust him at all. To him, you're just another problem to be dealt with, whether you like it or not.

You feel the blood trickling down your calf, soaking into your jeans, and you know that each step leaves a fresh trail in the snow, a trail that anything or anyone could follow.

The old building looks even more haunting up close, its windows shattered, its walls covered in a thick layer of ice and grime.

Your footsteps falter as you take it in, the realization sinking in that this terrifying ruin is where he intends to take you.

The stranger seems to sense your hesitation, and he stops, turning to you with a hard, assessing gaze. "You don't understand what's out there," he says, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze with as much strength as you can muster. "Then tell me," you say, the words steady but quiet, a demand laced with a plea. "Tell me what's going on. What was that thing?"

He hesitates, just for a moment, deciding how much to reveal. Then, with a deep sigh, he gestures toward the sanatorium. "Inside. We're not talking out here."

You follow him through the heavy, rusted doors, wincing as they creak open, the sound echoing through the hollow halls. Inside, the air is thick with dust and stale.

The stranger leads you deeper into the building, down a winding corridor lined with cracked tiles and peeling paint. He finally stops in what might have once been a treatment room, with a few battered chairs and a broken table shoved to the side.

Two wolves appear from the dark. A black one growling at you and a white one tilting his head as he looked at you curiously.

You leaned back against the cold, damp wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you as the adrenaline began to fade.

With a quiet hiss of pain, you tore off a strip of fabric from your shirt, pressing it against a particularly deep scratch along your arm. The fabric was thin and already damp from the cold air, but it was all you had, and the pressure seemed to slow the bleeding. You shifted your weight, your hand shaking as you worked to tie the makeshift bandage in place, gritting your teeth against the sting that flared with each movement.

The stranger knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached into a pocket, pulling out a small roll of cloth. He hesitated, his masked face turning to you, as if silently asking for permission. You gave a slight nod, and he moved closer, crouching down to your level.

His gloved hands were surprisingly gentle as he pressed the cloth over a cut on your leg, inspecting the wound beneath. He muttered something under his breath. "Not too deep. You must be tough one to make it out here in one piece."

You managed a weak smile, though it barely masked the pain etched into your features. "I... I didn't have much of a choice. I just kept running."

"Smart," he murmured, adjusting the bandage on your arm, his fingers surprisingly steady and precise despite the thickness of his gloves. "It was all you could do in that situation. If you ever face them again, don’t move. It’s like toads. Sight is based on changes of movement in their field of vision"

He pulls out a small photograph from his jacket pocket and hands it to you. You take it, fingers trembling as you examine the image. The man in the picture is a horror to behold. His face gaunt, his cheek on the left a gruesome patchwork of scarred, missing flesh, exposing jagged teeth beneath. His eyes are milky, blind and vacant, but there's something hauntingly human about his expression, a remnant of a person buried beneath the monstrous features, a true nightmare made flesh.

You swallow hard, slipping the photo into your pocket as the man turns around to throw a bone at the wolves.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"What you saw out there wasn't just any creature. It was once human, before the curse took it."

You blink, your mind scrambling to process the words. "A... curse?"

He nods, his gaze hardening. "Wendigos. Spirits that inhabit the bodies of those who commit cannibalism. It turns them into monsters, driven by the need to feed. And once it's taken hold, there's no going back."

"So... the thing that attacked me..." you start, your voice barely a whisper, "it used to be human?"

The Stranger's gaze softens, just for a moment, and he sighs. "The Wendigo remembers parts of what it once was. People, faces, moments. Things it hated. Things it wanted. All now mixed with hunger”

Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps reaches your ears, distinct and growing louder with each step. You freeze, the pulse of fear quickening in your veins. The man hears it too, his eyes narrow, his body going rigid as he listens. Without a word, he tightens his grip on your arm, helping you stand up and dragging you with him as he pulls you away from the main hallway

"Don't make a sound," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper, harsh and commanding.

You see a silhouette emerging around the corner and he starts to pull you backward, leading you out of the room, away from the figure.

The stranger led you down twisting passages until you reached an area near the entrance to the mines. He turned to you, his grip finally loosening, and gestured to a dark alcove.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice low but firm. "I'll check to make sure the rest of your friends aren't out there. When it's clear, I'll take you back to the lodge."

You nodded, exhaustion overtaking you as you sank down against the wall, your mind spinning with worry for Mike. You touched your cheek again, feeling the sting of the cut, your pulse still racing as you waited, alone, the cold stone walls pressing in around you.

Back inside, Mike watches as your figure disappears around the corner, led away by that dark, looming man and a fury unlike anything he's ever felt boils up inside him. He takes a step forward, desperate to follow, but his path is blocked by a heavy iron door separating him from the main lobby, the missing key preventing him from giving chase. He shakes the door in frustration, feeling the cold metal dig into his palms as he rattles it, cursing under his breath.

"Dammit," he mutters, his voice low and seething. The image of your face twisted in confusion and fear is burned into his mind and that only makes the anger roiling within him burn hotter. He barely notices his surroundings as he slams his fist against the door, once, twice, the sharp pain a poor substitute for the wrath and worry he feels building inside him. That bastard had hurt you, taken you, and he has no idea where or why.

The night air bites at their faces, unforgiving and cold as Mike and Chris drag Josh through the snow. Mike's hand is iron around Josh's collar, yanking him forward with an urgency that leaves no room for argument, while Chris trails close behind.

The desperation in his eyes is like a fire that's threatening to spiral out of control.

"Mike," Chris starts, his voice quiet, hesitant as he watches his friend's clenched jaw, the tightness in his grip on Josh's shirt. "Maybe we should just take a second. Think this through."

"Talk?" Mike spat, his voice a low growl. "We've been talking, Chris. And he's not saying anything because he's lying." He looked back at Josh, his gaze cold, unforgiving. "He did this. He knows where he is and he's just sitting here, laughing in our faces."

All he can see is the image of you being dragged away, hurt and vulnerable, every second stretching like an eternity, his mind racing with fears that sink into his chest like stones.

They reach the shed. Mike throws the door open and shoves Josh inside, not giving him even a moment to catch his breath.

Josh stumbles as he's shoved against a wooden support beam, his wrists still bound. Both Chris and Mike stepped forward to tie down and immobilize Josh completely against the wooden beam.

"Where is he, Josh?" he demands, each word taut with barely contained fury. "He's out there, alone and injured because of your sick little games!" Mike's voice rises, his anger spilling over as he steps even closer, his face inches from Josh's.

Chris stands to the side, a knot of worry tightening in his gut. The thought of you being hurt, or worse, out there because of this was almost too much to process. A wave of guilt rushes over him, crashing against the worry and confusion roiling inside him. He remembers every joke, every moment you'd shared and the thought that Josh might be responsible for taking that away, it's enough to make his stomach turn.

"Josh, please," Chris says, his voice soft, pleading, as he takes a step forward. "If you know anything, just tell us. We're not... we're not doing this for fun, okay? He’s a friend. Just... please."

There's a flicker of something dark in Josh's eyes, something that only Chris seems to understand. A decision, a choice that still lingers in his memory. Josh seems to notice, his smirk growing wider, almost triumphant.

"You let him talk you into thinking you were important, that you mattered, and then you turned on the only one who would've stuck with you." Josh's voice is soft, insidious, as he watches Chris's face pale. "All it took was a few words, and look at the mess you made with her. But sure, keep believing that he's your friend. Keep thinking he's anything more than just... clever with his words."

Chris’s expression stricken, the weight of the accusation settling heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the unresolved guilt he's tried to keep buried.

Josh looks between the two of them, an air of smugness creeping into his expression. "What, Mike, you think he's anything special? Can you realize that he’s not really the angel you think he is?" he mutters, a sneer curling at the edge of his mouth.

Mike feels his hands tremble with the effort to hold himself back, to keep from lunging at Josh right then and there.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," Mike hisses, his voice rough, a dangerous edge in his tone. "You don't get to say anything about him. Not after what you did."

Josh just laughs, a hollow, bitter sound that echoes through the empty shed. "You've got it bad, don't you? You'd do anything to convince yourself he's worth the risk."

Mike's fist slams into the wood beside Josh's head, sending a shower of splinters scattering to the ground. "You don't know a damn thing about what he means to me," Mike growls, his voice low, laced with a ferocity that makes Chris's breath catch. "Not a damn thing."

For the first time, there's a flicker of confusion in Josh's eyes, a hesitation that betrays the anger, the defiance in his expression.

“No... no... I don-. I’ve got a problem, Mike... I don’t remember hurting him...”

“Christ” Mike mutters to himself, looking around in disbelief at seeing how fucked up Josh’s mental health was.

“I mean, I feel like I would’ve remembered killing him, right?” Josh continued, his tone shifting from confusion to something Mike didn’t quite like. “If you were with him for a year, he must’ve had one hell of a body.” He flashed a smug grin at Mike.

Mike pulled out the gun from his jacket and pointed it at Josh, shouting with a desperation that borders on madness. “If you don't shut your fucking mouth, I swear I'll-"

"Mike!" Chris's voice trembles as he steps forward, reaching for his friend, fear evident in his eyes. "Don't do this. He's just messing with you. It's what he wants."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the air thick with tension until Mike finally lowered the gun. He never wavered his gaze from Josh as he spoke to Chris.

“Go back to the lodge with the others” Mike told Chris as he glared down at him, his voice barely controlled, barely holding back the rage that's tearing him apart. "You sure you’re okay?" Chris whispers and Mike nods. “they’ll want to know everything’s fine up there”.

“You’re right. See you in the morning” Chris muttered, sparing a last glance at Josh before slowly making his way back to the lodge.

The lodge has grown quieter than ever, the weight of fear and exhaustion hanging heavy in the air. The night presses on, feeling endless. A loud scream echoed inside the woods and Emily soon bursts into the lodge, her face pale, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Snow clings to her hair and jacket and her eyes are wide, glazed over with a fear none of them have seen before. She's shaking, her body visibly trembling as she stands there, looking as though she's barely keeping herself upright.

"Emily?" Sam is the first to speak, her voice soft but filled with worry as her and Ashley carried her to the couch. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Emily takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard as she nods, though her expression is anything but calm. "A monster- it’s a monster!" she stammers, glancing around, her eyes darting from face to face.

“Em are you okay?” Chris asks, concerned but also curious about what happened to her.

"I’m fine. I just need to calm down. It was moving so damn fast- i just needed to get away!"

“Em, Em. You can relax... Josh was messing with us but we-“

“You’re not listening to me!” Emily swallows again, her hands shaking as she raises one to her mouth, pressing her knuckles to her lips in a nervous gesture.

The group falls silent, their faces reflecting a mix of shock and unease as Emily explains to everyone how she called for help from the tower and she found herself in the mines after it collapsed.

"I found Beth’s dead body" she whispers, her voice barely audible, but her words carry through the room, settling like stones in their chests. "I didn’t find Hannah but I found some of her things there. It seemed she was just there starving to death while we were all searching for her up here"

“Em! You made it” Mike entered the lodge breathless from running.

She got up from the couch and immediately hugged him.

“What about Matt?”

“We’re trying to figure it out...”

“And there is also this “monster” that was chasing her-“

A loud knock at the door made everyone turn. A fresh wave of panic settled over them. Mike's hand instinctively goes to his side, reaching for the gun, but he stops short, his face tense as he glances around.

"I'll check it out," he mutters, glancing at Chris, who nods, his expression equally wary.

They move toward the door cautiously, every step filled with tension. He opens the door slowly, his hand poised on the gun and there, framed in the doorway, stands a stranger, his face full in view this time. He moves with a speed that catches Mike off guard, wrenching the gun from his grip in one smooth motion.

"Easy," the stranger says, his voice a low rumble, as he lowers the gun, his gaze intense but steady. He glances over his shoulder, nodding toward the darkness outside. "It's safe. You can come in."

There's a moment of silence and then, slowly, you step into the doorway. You're limping just slightly, your clothes torn and dirty and covered up by an old jacket similar to Mike’s one, your face bruised but alive.

Mike's heart stops, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he stares at you. He can barely move, his eyes wide, unable to process what he’s seeing. For a split second, he thought that it was a dream until you take that hesitant step forward and reality crashes in. He whispers your name, his voice barely audible, filled with a raw, aching vulnerability he can't hide. And then he's there, crossing the distance in an instant, wrapping you in his arms, holding you tightly.

The warmth of his embrace floods over you, the steady weight of his arms filling you with a sense of safety you haven't felt since the night began. You return the hug, exhaustion seeping into every muscle, and you let yourself sink into his warmth, closing your eyes as you let the moment wash over you.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Mike's voice cracks, and he buries his face in your shoulder, his breath shaky as he struggles to hold back the emotion.

You reach up, brushing your hand against his cheek, and manage a tired smile. "I made it back." you whisper, your voice soft but steady.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze scanning every bruise, every cut, his fingers brushing gently over each mark. "Are you hurt? What... what did this do to you?" His voice is laced with worry, a protectiveness that's fierce, almost desperate, as he holds your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek

You reached up to cover his hand with yours. "I'm okay, don’t worry" you murmur, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Chris steps forward then, his eyes wide, relief flooding his expression as he pulls you into a hug, his grip firm, steady. "Man, you scared the hell out of us," he says, his voice thick with emotion. He pulls back, a grin breaking through the tension as he adds, "Don't ever do that again, okay?"

A small laugh escapes you, and the tension in the room begins to ease. You all follow the stranger and get to where the girls were waiting.

"Thank god you’re okay." Sam says softly, a warm smile on her face as she carefully hugged you to avoid any further pain.

Emily, still recovering from the shock she went through, gave a curt nod in your direction. "You look like you have been through hell" she mutters.

You manage a small smile, grateful for each familiar face.

The man clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him, his gaze steady, a hard look in his eyes. "I don't have time for reunions," he says, his tone firm but not unkind. "There's something you need to understand."

Everyone falls silent, their faces tense as they turn to him. Mike leads you to the couch, pulling you down beside him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close as you leaned against him.

The stranger begins to speak, his voice low and grave as he explains the truth of the mountain, the curse that turned the ones who commit cannibalism into unrecognizable monsters. His words hang heavy in the air, each one sinking into them like stones.

Mike's hand tightens on your waist, his gaze dark as he listens, his mind racing with the reality of what you must have endured all alone. The knowledge that you survived this and made it back to him fills him with a mixture of pride and fear that he can't shake.

When the stranger finishes, silence falls over the room, the weight of his warning settling into every corner, pressing down on each of them. Chris is the first to break the silence, his face set, determined. "So... what do we do?"

The stranger's gaze sharpens, his expression hard, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "You’re going to need to find somewhere safe to hide"

“For how long?”

“Until dawn”

They all nod, a shared understanding passing between them.

“Guys... i ran out and left Josh when i heard screaming” Mike told everyone, guilt spreading on his face at realizing what could happen to Josh.

“Your friend is already dead” the stranger spoke with unwavering certainty.

Chris steps forward. “No, no he can’t be. We were just with him a moment ago”

“A lot can happen quickly on this mountain”

"I'm gonna get him," Chris said with determination. "I’m supposed to be his best friend and i let him down"

“Then i’ll go with you” the man said, offering Chris a rifle to fight if needed.

Chris takes a deep breath, steeling himself and holding the rifle tightly to his chest as he stares at the door, the stranger next to him and ready to leave to rescue Josh. Just as he's about to turn away, he notices you and Mike standing together. Mike's arm is still around you but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to murmur something to him. His face softens and he reluctantly lets you go, his hand lingering for a moment longer.

You walk toward Chris, your movements slow but steady, the worst of your injuries seeming to fade, the pain dulled and it gives you a chance to run again thanks to the man’s help. You hold up a hand for a high five, grinning just a bit. "Be careful out there, alright?"

Chris smirks, the familiar glint of humor in his eyes. "Hey, you know me. Careful my middle name." He claps your hand, his expression softening slightly. "We'll get through this."

Your gaze shifts to the stranger, a silent expression of gratitude in your eyes as you give him a slight nod. He meets your gaze, there's a faint hint of acknowledgment in the way he inclines his head.

Turning back, you move toward Mike. You catch sight of Ashley leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on Chris with a strange, distant expression, something that you never saw on her when together with Chris. You pause, opening your mouth to ask her if she's alright, but she steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder to help you back toward Mike.

You give her a small nod, something unsettled lingering in your mind but you let it go as she guides you back to Mike. You feel his hand slip around your waist again, steady and reassuring, his warmth grounding you as you settle beside him, leaning into his side as he guides you to the basement with the others.

The atmosphere in the basement is heavy with silence, an oppressive weight settling over everyone. You were sitting down on one of the tables there, looking at all the cameras present there together with Sam and Emily. The door creaks open, and Ashley stumbles down, followed closely by Mike. You can see immediately the way his face is drawn, his eyes hollow, a deep sadness etched into every line.

He looks at you, the pain in his gaze made you fear the worst. "Chris... he didn't make it," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath.

You feel the ground shift beneath you, the words sinking in with an ache so sharp it feels physical. Chris, your friend, is gone. Your throat tightens and the reality of the situation claws at you, an emptiness that leaves you hollow.

Ashley stands frozen, her face pale and expressionless. Emily immediately moves to her side, reaching for her hands, while Sam steps forward, her voice soft with sympathy. "Ash... I'm so sorry."

Ashley shakes her head, her jaw clenched as she stares past them, her eyes glassy with shock. "I'm fine," she insists, her voice hollow and distant, "I'm fine."

Sam's voice is soft, cautious as she looks at Mike. "What about the man with the flamethrower? Did... did he make it?"

Mike shakes his head, his voice a low, haunted murmur. "Didn’t see him coming back. He's dead, too."

The walls seem to close in and Mike moves with big steps towards you and hold you tightly, pulling you closer, "I’m so sorry”. His hand moves gently to your back, tracing soothing circles, his fingers trembling slightly.

You find yourself melting into his touch, his hold a balm to the raw pain in your chest.

Mike began searching around the place and on the cameras to look for any possible other escape. Josh had the key for the cable car. The wendigos might have taken him to the sanatorium and he declared he will go there to get them and save him.

All of your friends group around the table to analyze the map left by the man, talking about the mines and the sanatorium.

You’re too deep in thoughts to participate in it. You felt tears ready to spill down from your eyes as you kept thinking about Chris and the man’ deaths.

“Em... Em, what is that?” Ashley's tone of voice was concerning. You looked up in time to see all of your friends slowly backing away from Emily as she kept a hand on her shoulder.

You got down from the table and wiped away the tears on your eyes. Stepping closer but stopping when you noticed blood seeping through her shoulder.

“Ash...” Emily began to talk, her gaze moving towards everyone as she carefully thought about her next words

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god! Oh, no, oh, no!” Ashely was freaking out as her gaze moved back and forth to Mike and Emily.

“It’s nothing. It just- it bit me and-“ Emily tried to explain but Ashley's loud voice interrupted her again.

“It bit you? What bit you?!”

You took another step closer while Ashley grew increasingly agitated with each word.

“The...ah... the wendigo,” Emily stammered, her voice trembling with fear rather than conviction. “It’s nothing, really. It’s not a big deal—it doesn’t hurt anymore, not really.”

Mike takes a step back "Em... if that thing bit you..."

“I know what you’re thinking and i’m fine” she took a step forwards and expanded her hands towards Mike but he backed away, his arm moving in front of you to shield you from her as he stepped away.

“Emily at least let us check it out,” Sam told her quietly, hoping to calm her down.

“Emily... if the wendigo bit you, you could turn into one of those things” Mike told her as he kept his arm in front of you.

“Oh that’s ridiculous” Sam said, her voice rising in frustration as she stepped forward to intervene. But Ashley sharply spoke again, her expression a mix of desperation and impatience.

“He said it was from EATING each other- remember, he said that! It happens if it bites you, you’re gonna turn into one of those things and you’re gonna turn in on us. Oh my god. Oh, my god! OH MY GOD”

Was it really like that? The man told you that it happened if someone committed cannibalism but he never told you about bites or other things like that. Was it just common knowledge and he didn’t told you because it was oblivious?

You took a step forward and felt pain radiating on your shoulder. A whimper of pain was heard through your closed lips and Mike turned around immediately, his arm outstretched in front of you while slowly moving you behind him as he positions himself between you and the perceived threat.

“You can’t be down here with us. You gotta go. You’re putting us ALL in danger” Mike told Emily firmly, no hesitation on his face or voice.

“Like hell I am!” This was the first time you saw Emily this desperate.

“Mike, just cool your head, okay? We don’t know how it works, maybe it’s just a bite” Sam said, her voice steady but edged with concern, though the unease in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.

“What is this? Guys, what are you doing” Emily looked more and more scared the longer she looked around at all of you.

“Door’s right there. I’m letting you doing this voluntarily” Mike spoke firmly at her.

“Oh, no. You’re just doing this to make yourself feel better about sending me to my death because you know there’s a wendigo out there ready to rip me to pieces like it did with-“

“OKAY, OH MY GOD! WILL YOU JUST GO?! GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Ashley screamed at the top of her lungs, voice full of frustration and terror at this point.

Mike move towards the table and took the gun, pointing it at Emily who immediately backed away in shock.

“Whoa,whoa-whoa- Mike! Calm down!” Sam tried to intervene but Mike pushed her away, his arm pulling you behind him protectively as his other hand kept pointing the gun at Emily.

“You’re gonna shoot me?” Emily crawled on top of the table until her back hit the wall, desperately trying to get away from the situation. “Mike...? Me?”

“This is the safe room, Em. And it’s not safe as long as you’re in it. Not for us!”

“Don- don’t do this!” Her voice broke on the last word, her hands reaching out as if she could somehow stop him.

“I’m really sorry” Mike choked out, his voice trembling with regret, the words barely escaping through a veil of anguish. His hands shook as he gripped the weapon, his heart pounding in his chest as he took a step forward. His finger pressed the revolver’s cylinder, rotating it to prepare the next shot.

Tell Mike Not to Shoot Emily. She's still Emily, still herself... isn't she? The fear is there, yes, but a part of you knows this isn't right.

Support Mike no matter what he chooses. The thought of Emily becoming one of those things, of putting Mike in danger, fills you with a dread so deep it nearly leaves you breathless.

Your heart pounded as memories surged through your mind, vivid and relentless of the wendigo’s claws tearing through your body as it dragged you into the unknown. You remembered the helplessness, the horror, the feeling of being trapped in a nightmare you couldn't escape.

Now, the thought of Mike facing anything remotely close to that horror because of a single hesitation sent fear clawing at your chest. You wanted to believe Emily; she was one of you, someone you'd shared memories with. But what if she did turn? What if Mike's hesitation meant losing him?

Support Mike

You lean closer, your voice soft, trembling, barely a whisper. “I trust you, Mike. Whatever you think is best... I'll stand by you."

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a faint trick of light, the beat of butterfly wings sending ripples into the unknown.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Your words seemed to reach him, settling into something deep inside. The fear in his eyes hardened into something resolute. He was reminded of the bruises on your face, the cuts on your skin, the exhaustion in your frame as you spoke softly at him. You were still recovering, still weak from the encounter. In the state you were in, you wouldn't be able to defend yourself if she turned into one of those things.

He can't let her be a threat.

The shot rings out, sharp and final, echoing through the room. The bullet made contact with her left eye, ending her life on spot and smearing the wall behind her with blood.

“Oh, shit... oh, shit... oh, shit. What the fuck did i just do?” Mike lets the gun fall from his hands, his expression haunted, his eyes flicking to you.

You reach for his hand, gripping it tightly.

“You’re safe... you guys are safe. I had to do it” he looked around, searching for reassurance, for some sign that he did the right thing.

Ashley backs away, shocked and terrified to look at him despite being the one ready from the start to make Emily leave the room.

“I’m going to get the keys from Josh. I’ll... I'll come back here.” He began to back away “you guys are safe... it’s over...” he let go of your hand, looking at you desperately one last time before turning away.

You watched him go with a worried expression. Sam came close to you, her hand resting on your shoulder as she looked with you where Mike went to get what was needed to let you escape this nightmare of a place.

From behind, you heard Ashley panicking again as she mumbled under her breath. She was sitting on the opposite side of a table reading what you assumed to be the diary of the stranger

“What? What does it say?” You and Sam stepped forward together until you were right next to her.

“It says... well... if it bites you it’s not infectious. It doesn’t do anything”

Sam took the book in her hands, looking briefly at Emily’s dead body and whispering her name softly. A tear about to spill from her eyes.

You peeked over Sam’s shoulder as she read the last page pf the diary. It talked about all the wendigos trapped inside the sanatorium.

Mike was going to fall right into a trap.

“We need to get to Mike” Sam said firmly, tossing the book aside as you and her made your way to Mike.

The dim, echoing tunnels of the mine stretch before you, the air is thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of rust. Mike is beside you, keeping close, his eyes darting around as if searching for any sign of danger, while Sam moves slightly behind you, her flashlight casting shadows that flicker and dance against the rock.

A small lake was blocking your path. The frigid water sending a chill just from looking at it.

"Guess we don't have much of a choice," Sam murmurs, voice tight.

You nod, sharing a glance with Mike, whose gaze is steady but filled with the same dread. Together, you step into the water, the cold biting instantly as it soaks through your clothes. It seeps up your legs, then higher, numbing everything it touches. By the time the water reaches your waist, your muscles are tense, your breaths sharp and shuddering from the sheer chill.

You could help but mutter something about how you were freezing your ass, teeth chattering as you trudge forward and earning a small chuckle from Sam, suffering as well from the extreme low temperature of the water.

A solid surface came ahead and you all got up from there.

Sam spots something on the ground and in the glow of her flashlight, you see a small, battered notebook, its cover dusty and worn but unmistakably familiar. It's Hannah's diary, you recognized her handwriting.

The three of you huddle close, drawn in by the painful intimacy of her words. The cold, the hunger and the maddening isolation as she struggled to survive in the mines with a broken leg. She stayed here for around a month.

“Oh god... it makes sense. I think... Hannah dug up Beth. It was Hannah. Beth died in the fall- so Hannah must have buried her“ Sam pieced everything together”

“God-dammit” Mike muttered in disbelief.

“She would have been starving... she would have been desperate-“

The implication of what it meant twisted your stomach, bringing back flashes of the memory from that night. You feel the cold seep through your skin, but it's not the chill of the mines.

It's the haunting weight of regret.

Mike's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone gentle. "Hey... you okay?" He's watching you, his gaze filled with concern.

Lie. You could brush it off, tell them it's just the cold getting to you. It would be easy, just a few words to keep the truth hidden, to protect yourself from the shame that threatens to overwhelm you. But the guilt would stay buried, festering, a constant reminder of what you did and chose to keep hidden.

Confess. You could let it out, finally release the burden you've been carrying. Admit that you saw Hannah that night, that you knew about the prank but chose not to warn her. This choice would mean exposing yourself but it might also allow you to find a sense of forgiveness. A chance for honesty and maybe a path toward healing.

The truth gnaws at you, clawing its way to the surface, refusing to stay buried. You can't keep it hidden any longer.

Confess

Taking a shaky breath, you look at Mike and Sam, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you. I saw Hannah that night. Right before... everything. She asked me if I knew where Mike was and I didn't tell her about the prank." Your voice cracks, raw with the pain of holding back the truth. "I could've warned her and stopped it. This is all my fault."

The silence stretches as your confession hangs in the cold air. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your chest tightening as the weight of it crashes over you.

Mike's hand tightens on your shoulder and he looks at you with a softness that you didn't expect. "This isn't all on you. I shouldn't have gone along with the prank in the first place." His voice is laced with regret. "If anyone's to blame, it's me."

Sam's hand finds yours, squeezing gently. "You made a mistake but we all did. I should have found her faster. I should have insisted more on stopping that prank. None of us were perfect that night."

Her words are like a balm, gentle but unwavering, her empathy wrapping around you as she holds your gaze. The three of you share a moment of quiet solidarity, bound together by the shared regret.

You all continue moving through the mines. Mike's hand brushes against yours as you move inside the water.

"So... you were jealous?" His tone is playful, laced with his usual teasing, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere.

You roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lips curve upward. "It was like a year ago, alright? And yeah, I was jealous."

Mike grins, his eyebrow quivering as he nudges you gently. "And how long were you crushing on me?" He leans a little closer, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious murmur.

Sam, walking just behind, groans in mock exasperation and from the cold water. "Could you two get a room already? I really don't need to be the third wheel right now."

"Sorry, Sam." You laugh, feeling the last remnants of tension ease from your shoulders.

Eventually, you could hear Josh mumbling to himself, his eyes wild, his expression a chaotic mix of fear and mania.

"Josh!" Sam calls, her voice gentle but firm. "Josh, it's us."

He doesn't respond, muttering incoherently, his gaze distant, as if lost in a nightmare he can't escape. “He’s tripping or something” Mike muttered to himself before giving him a slap to snap him out of his stupor. "Josh!"

Josh blinks, his gaze slowly refocusing on the three of you, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. "Don’t h-hit me, p-please-"

“You were deep in it, man. Full metal jacket”

“Josh, Hannah was down there for weeks... a month?! She dug Beth up” she was on the verge of crying and you stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

"We need the keys," you said gently, trying to keep him calm. "The keys to the cable car, do you have them?"

Josh's hand trembles as he digs into his pocket, pulling out the keys and handing them to Sam. She pockets them and glances toward the slope leading up to the surface.

"That's our way out," she says, her voice filled with determination.

Mike shakes his head, glancing at Josh. "He's not going to make it up there. We'll have to go back the way we came."

Sam nods, though her face is etched with worry. She looks at you, assessing your condition with a careful gaze. "Think you can handle the climb? I can help you up if you need."

Mike steps in, his hand brushing your arm as he looks at you. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone soft, but there's a hint of worry in his eyes.

You nod, meeting his gaze with a steady look. "I can handle it. Sam's got my back in case”

He hesitates, his grip tightening on your arm, his gaze flickering with a hint of reluctance. Then, with a soft sigh, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hand lingering on your cheek as he pulls back, his voice a whisper only you can hear. "Be careful, alright? I want to see that handsome face of yours back at the lodge."

You smile, brushing a hand over his. "You too, Mike. Don't do anything stupid."

He chuckles, the sound soft but tinged with a bittersweet edge. "Stupid? Me? Never." He winks, a smirk playing on his lips, though his gaze holds a flicker of sadness.

He knelt down to help both you and Sam with the first push to start climbing and with one last look, he turns back to Josh, his hand gesturing to the direction to get out of the mines.

You and Sam exchange a determined nod before turning to the steep climb. Every movement is careful and calculated, each foothold chosen with precision as you make your way up.

The climb back to the surface is grueling, every muscle in your body aching, but the sight of moonlight filtering through the cracks above fills you with a surge of determination. Sam pulls herself up beside you, panting but grinning as she looks over at you with a playful gleam in her eye.

"That was just like a climbing class, right?" she quips, giving you a nudge.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, except with a lot more life-or-death stakes," you reply, matching her tone with a smirk.

She lets her hand fall onto your shoulder, her fingers gently squeezing as she takes a moment to study your face. “You did good,” she says, her voice a soothing contrast to the chaos you’d just survived. “Not a single complaint, even when you looked like you were about to pass out.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her. “Do I really look that bad?” you ask, the question coming out more tired than you’d intended. The last time you saw your reflection was before you were dragged away from Mike, leaving your body feeling like it had been run through a blender. You knew there were cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over your body. The left side of your cheek throbbed painfully whenever you touched it and you could feel the stickiness of dried blood against your lips.

She gives you a small, teasing smile, a spark of humor glinting in her eyes. “Nah,” she says, her voice light but sincere. “It makes you look tough. I can guarantee you, Mike would approve of me without hesitation.”

A tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Despite the exhaustion in your bones and the tremble in your legs, you can’t help but feel a small spark of gratitude for her presence, appreciating her support as the two of you move forward and towards the lodge.

A bone-chilling scream pierces the air from behind you. You can feel the presence of something behind you, its screeches growing louder.

The two of you bolt toward the lodge, every step pounding with adrenaline without looking back until you reach the lodge. You pound on the door with both fists, your heart hammering as you shout for someone inside to let you in. You feel the tremor in your hands, the knowledge that every second spent outside is a second closer to whatever horror is chasing you.

Then, a figure from behind calls for your name.

Mike.

Relief floods through you as he steps forward, grabbing you in a fierce hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breaths shallow and shaky as he presses his face against your shoulder and allows himself to rest for just a second.

Sam picks up a rock, smashing it against the window of the door to unlock it. With a final glance behind, the three of you slip inside.

“And Josh?” Your voice suddenly small, a tremor running through it as you glance at him.

He lowers his gaze. It’s a look that sends an icy chill through you, the kind of look that makes your stomach twist in dread. “It got him”

Your breath catches, you feel sick to your stomach, cold in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature around you.

Sam’s shoulders sag, her face twisting with anguish as she drops her eyes to the ground. ”Ohh, god, what an awful way to go...” she mutters, her voice thick with disbelief and grief.

“What do you think we should do now?”

“We should check the basement, might be someone left down there”

Descending down the stairs to the basement, the only thought passing inside your mind was that there was no time to mourn yet. Help will soon be on the way. You just have to survive just a bit longer.

The door of the basement cracks open and three wendigos are there. Their emaciated bodies twisted and contorted, creeping forward with a surprising speed.

Ashley was no longer there.

Mike takes hold of your hand and with Sam behind, you all backtrack to the main lobby. Mike suddenly halts and tugs harshly at your arm to block you in the track.

"Don't move. Don’t fucking move muscle." His voice a hoarse whisper.

Your heart pounds as you follow his gaze and that's when you see it. A wendigo, tall and twisted, perched on the wooden chandelier above. You caught a glimpse of the butterfly tattoo on its arm. This was Hannah. She was no longer recognizable, skin stretched taut over skeletal limbs, her hollow eyes scanning the room with a terrifying intensity.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

Fear grips you, cold and unrelenting, as you force yourself to stay still. You can feel every tremor in your muscles, the effort it takes to control your breathing, to keep from trembling as the creature shifts, her claws scraping against the wood.

The wendigos from the basement emerge to the main lobby. One of them lunges at Hannah, and in a flash of brutality, she catches it’s leg and throws it first against the wooden stairs and then against the chimney, causing one of the gas pipes to break. Another one attacks her from upstairs but despite the height advantage her claws successfully sink into its neck and decapitate it with little effort.

Your eyes flick to Mike, his face drawn tight with focus as he inches toward the lightbulb switch while keeping an eye on the distracted wendigo.

Then you see the last wendigo from the basement perched on the wooden railing near you, its blind eyes scanning and it's facing Mike. Every step he is making is putting him in danger.

Save Mike. Do anything in your power to distract the monster from him. Anything to protect Mike, even if it means putting yourself in danger.

Run. Save yourself. The path is clear. No wendigos are paying attention to you. Just a quick turn around, a chance to escape. You could save yourse—

Save Mike

You raise your foot and press it down onto the floor, letting it creak just enough to attract the wendigo's attention. The creature snaps its head towards you, the hollow gaze empty and yet focused, its twisted limbs twitching as it crawls toward you, its movements disturbingly animalistic.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

The wendigo creeps closer, its body contorted, moving on all fours with a disturbing grace, each shift of its limbs slow and deliberate, its clawed hands digging into the wooden floor. You can see its sunken eyes, the stretched skin pulled tight over a jaw filled with teeth too sharp, too numerous.

Just as it seems to lose interest, it shifts, turning toward the stairs, drawn by a new sound. Hannah’s form looming over it as her hollow gaze fixes on it, ready to fight.

You see Sam from the corner of your eye, moving silently toward the door, hiding behind the remnants of overturned furniture. Hannah close in on her hiding spot, her bodies coiled with an unnatural tension, ready to strike.

Your heart pounds in your chest, its frantic rhythm deafening in your ears as your body locks in place, paralyzed by terror.

Mike has backed away and reached your position. His hand slips into yours, his grip firm as he starts to pull you toward the door. His gaze remains fixed on the wendigos, unwavering, every muscle in his body tense with vigilance. His attention flickers only briefly to Sam, a silent worry in his eyes matching yours.

Just as you're inches from the door, Sam's scream cuts through the silence. Your blood freezes. Panic surges through you as you turn around.

Hannah’s grotesque hand shoots out, grasping Sam's face and yanking her up in the air as she struggles to break free. In one brutal, swift motion, Hannah's arm pierces Sam's body, tearing through her.

Her scream pierced the air, and then... silence. Sam's body goes slack, her eyes glazing over as the light fades from them. Hannah lets her crumple to the floor, lifeless.

Tears burn in your eyes, blurring your vision as your breath comes in ragged gasps. You clutch Mike's hand harder, your fingers digging into his skin, as the crushing weight of Sam's death settles over you, the weight of loss heavy on your heart. You feel Mike's hand squeezing yours back, his body tensed beside you but his face filled with grief and helplessness.

The two wendigos turn, their hollow eyes finding you and Mike, and they begin to move, their twisted limbs carrying them forward with terrifying speed.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," you whisper as your gaze locks onto Hannah's, the words slipping out, soft but filled with regret at what you did to her.

Mike steps forward as he reaches for the light switch. The moment he flicks it, a spark ignites, and the room erupts in a blinding explosion. The force sends you and Mike flying backward, his arms wrapping around you protectively as the two of you crash to the ground, the shockwave rattling through your bones as the lodge goes up in flames.

You lie there on top of Mike, the world spinning as the roaring fire consumes what remains of the lodge.

In the distance, you hear the faint whir of helicopter blades, the sound growing louder, accompanied by a voice echoing through the smoke. "We've got survivors."

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow in the police station room, making everything feel painfully real.

The officer across from you studies you with a quiet intensity, his face neutral, but his eyes carry a weight that tells you he knows he's about to hear something he won't easily forget.

“I... I was grabbed and dragged through the woods. I thought I wouldn't make it, but then this man showed up. He had a flamethrower... he saved my life and he... he died trying to save a friend of mine” You recount everything, the words spilling out in uneven breaths as you described the twisted nightmare that unfolded in the mountains.

When you finish, the silence stretches out, heavy and unnerving, until the officer leans forward, his gaze intense.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss," he says, his tone carefully measured. "We recovered multiple bodies from the lodge after the explosion. One is severely burned, difficult to identify, but we believe it was one of your friends." He pauses, watching your reaction. "From what we could determine, she was shot."

The words sink in, your stomach twisting as you realize he's talking about Emily.

The officer's gaze sharpens, his voice low but probing. "Your boyfriend already told one of my colleagues what happened, but... I want to hear it from you. Can you tell me why he did it?"

His question hangs in the air, pressing down on you with a weight that's almost suffocating.

Tell the truth. You could tell the officer everything, lay bare the paranoia and fear that drove you all, admit that Mike had acted out of a desperation to protect all of you, even at the cost of a friend. This would leave Mike exposed, vulnerable to judgment and consequences that he might not deserve.

Protect Mike with a half-truth. You could bend the truth just enough to shield him, craft a version that holds the essence of what happened but protects him from the harshest scrutiny. You could tell the officer that Emily was on the verge of turning, and that Mike's decision was one made in self-defense for everyone. After all, Mike had a clue the bite wasn’t infectious. This would keep Mike safe.

You think of Mike, his face as he'd held the gun, the determination and anguish mingling as he made the choice to protect all of you. The quiet nights, the endless texts that bridged the miles between you when life pulls you in different directions. The inside jokes that only the two of you understood, the late-night conversations. You remember the way he’d stood by you through everything. The way he would always try to make you smile when you were having a bad day, the sound of his voice calling your name in a crowd, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. The memory of him chasing after you through the woods risking everything to save you.

Protect Mike

"There were other... things in that lodge, things that weren't human. I don't know if you've recovered them yet, but I'm sure you'll find them."

The officer's brow furrows slightly, as if considering the implications of your words. "We... found some burned bodies in the lodge. They were deformed, impossible to identify." His words trail off, as though he's reluctant to admit what he's seen.

You steady yourself, forcing your voice into a calm, controlled tone as you look back at the officer. "Emily was infected. She was about to turn into one of those things. Mike acted in self-defense for all of us, he was trying to protect us." The officer's face remains impassive, though you see a flicker of skepticism in his eyes.

You lean forward, pulling the crumpled photo from your pocket, the one the stranger had given you of the man twisted by the wendigo curse, the monstrous transformation captured in horrifying detail. You hand it to the officer, your hand trembling as you do.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"These... things aren't human. It wasn't her anymore. Mike did his best at saving us."

The officer studies the photograph, his expression shifting from skepticism to something darker, more troubled. He nods slowly, his gaze flicking back to you, and there's a note of respect in his tone as he speaks. "We'll look into it. Thank you for sharing this. We’ll keep it in mind for the investigation." He slips the photo into his folder, his expression thoughtful as he regards you one last time.

You hesitate, your voice soft but filled with a quiet desperation. "Could I see Mike?"

The officer studies you for a long moment, taking in the bruises on your skin, the exhaustion etched into every line of your face, and the pleading look in your eyes. He sighs, standing up and nodding toward the door. "Come with me."

You follow him through the narrow hallway, your heart pounding with every step as you finally catch sight of Mike, seated outside another interview room, his head bowed, hands clutched together. The exhaustion on his face is evident but the moment he sees you, his face transforms, relief flooding over him like a wave.

You barely have time to process before he's standing, crossing the short distance to you in a few strides and wrapping his arms around you in a fierce embrace. His grip is tight, his body trembling as he pulls you close, his breath hitching as he presses his face into your shoulder.

"It's over now," you whisper, voice barely audible as you press closer. "We're safe. It's finally over."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with fierce determination. He’ll never let anything happen to you ever again.

The two of you sit together in silence, your hands intertwined, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle, steady rhythm. You can barely bring yourself to look at him, feeling the guilt gnaw at you. All of your friends died and it was your fault

His arms then pull you in closer and you lean into him, not saying anything because no words seem to make the guilt any lighter. But, in that moment, with his arms around you, there’s a strange sense of relief. No matter what happens next, at least you’re not alone.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

I really love all the characters in this game, and honestly, it was painful to write their deaths. But I wanted to try something different this time. I hope it didn’t make the story less enjoyable to read—it wasn’t my intention at all. If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

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