#also i use his backpack as a pillow and curl up in the back of his office for naps it's so comfortable idk why

[poseiben]

!!

[g0niki]

camera's on ── y.jw p.js

pairing: bf!jungwon x afab!reader x classmate!jay

word count: 3.4k+

content: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light mxm (ooo they're both boys,,ooo and they're kissing), exhibitionism, jay is a little mean, jw is a little dumb, recording. i think that's it

a/n: another late-night banger, wrote this at like 4am and barely proofread it because i'm just a girl 🤷. lmk if anyone wants a part two!

“shit shit shit-“ won wasn’t giving you a single break, his hand rested on top of your head as he pushed your head down into the pillows. his hips repeatedly thrust in and out of you, knocking the air out of your lungs each time as you stare back at your reflection through his phone camera. 

the camera quality was shitty, blurry, and shaky, jumping any and every time won’s pelvis came in contact with your ass, but to won you looked angelic. he didn’t care how ‘bad’ it was, he could see your face red and stained with tears while also being able to see how good you took him. what he did not like was just how much the setup would come crashing down, like now. 

“wait wonnie-“ jungwon throws his head back in frustration, already knowing what words were going to come out of your mouth “it fell again...” won pulls out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he crawls off the bed again to grab the small device, hand running through his hair in frustration. you sit up, pulling the blankets up to cover your figure. 

“we can try again another time…”  jungwon holds the phone in his hand now, his hand coming up to push your hair back and cup your face. he sees the slight pout on your face, knowing you haven’t gotten the chance to finish yet. he looks down at his erection, not as hard as it was before but still there. 

“let me finish you off baby,” tossing his phone to the side and tugging the blanket off of you. he grips your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between them and immediately getting to work. his tongue pressing flat against you and licking from top to bottom before inserting his muscle inside you and using his right hand to massage your clit. another failed attempt at completing one of his sex list goals, but that doesn’t mean he was going to leave his princess high and dry once again. 

jungwon continues to practically make out with your cunt. burying his face in your warmth and moving his fingers from your clit and to the outside of your entrance, gently pushing two of his digits inside and feeling around the space. you can hear the slurping sounds he makes, knowing it’s messy and that his face is coated in your essence yet unable to bring yourself up to look. too overcome with the feeling of ecstasy and throwing your head back as your back arches up. 

jungwon’s hips rutt against the edge of the bed, trying his best to match up with the pace of his fingers and trying to imagine the feeling of you clenching around his fingers being around his member instead.  

the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you finally sending you over the edge as won digs his hips into the mattress a couple more times, lapping at your cum to properly finish himself off. the warm cum oozing out and spreading against the bed sheets and his stomach. 

he might not have gotten the recording, but at least he still has you gasping for air in front of him. 

【☆】★【☆】

jungwon was in a bad mood and everyone on campus could tell. his hand gripped the strap of his backpack tightly, tight enough for the vein in his arm to pop out, his eyebrows pinched together in annoyance, and the inside of his right cheek was caught between his teeth. 

most of the time people would say hi and ask won how he was doing or stop him to exchange a couple of words, but anyone with working eyes could tell not to speak to the boy at that moment, let alone look at him. 

 jungwon tosses his bag onto the ground next to the table his friends are all studying at, all of them pausing their work to look up at him as if he had his head screwed on backward.

“who the hell spit in your coffee this morning?” sunoo scoffed, closing his book and setting his head on his palm to glare at jungwon. “that was unnecessary, interrupting our peace.” jungwon watched as sunoo rolled his eyes and sighs, jake nudging the sassy ginger. 

“cmon bro he’s clearly having a rough morning.” jake gives him a sympathetic smile, ruffling sunoo’s hair to get him off of jungwon’s back. “what’s got you like.. this?” the aussie looks jungwon up and down, taking in his messy look and the bags under his eyes, “you don’t even look this bad during finals.”

jungwon plops down onto the chair, rubbing his eyes and groaning out loud. “personal issues.” trying his best to keep the situation slightly vague. the answer wasn’t enough, sunoo and jake gave him a look that said ‘like???’

“recording issues,”

“recording… like a camera?” jungwon shoots sunoo a look, coming off harsher than he meant it to be, the ginger putting his hands up in response “jeez i’m just making sure, didn’t know you had a pole up your ass today.” 

“sorry hyung… it’s just really bothering me.”

“i was going to tell you to give you that junior jay’s number, but it seems like you don’t need my input.” sunoo looks away to check his nails,  not bothering to further explain himself. 

“who’s jay?”

“you know? the videography major from america.” jake ignores sunoo’s attitude and continues the conversation for him, filling in jungwon. “i’m sure he could help you with camera shit.” 

that’s how won found himself in front of the creative arts building. a sticky note in his hand with the room number 6-107 and the name of one of his seniors. the building being the polar opposite of his majors with a sleek and cool design, making him feel as if he stepped foot onto a completely different campus. 

after a couple of awkward interactions and asking people if they had seen this mysterious jay, jungwon was finally pointed towards a guy. his golden blondish hair sitting messily as he clicked away on his laptop, a nice looking camera sitting next to the device. 

park jay… or jongseong. he’s not sure which one he should be calling him but his legs are dragging him right over to the older boy. 

“i need your help.” jungwon stood over him, he’s eyes sharply looking at the blonde and waiting for him to look up.  jay’s head slowly looks jungwon up from bottom to top, making eye contact and raising his brow, licking the corner of his lip before speaking up. 

“do i know you?” jay minimizes his tabs, jungwon watching as the editing apps close one by one and the only thing left is jay’s camera roll, many thumbnails displayed on the screen in front of him. “and my services aren’t free.” 

despite jay having to look up at jungwon, won is still a bit intimidated. jay’s aura is suffocating, having him swallowing down the lump in his throat to continue the conversation. 

“yang jungwon. i just had a couple of questions about camera setup…” 

“i guess i could spare some tips, what camera are you using?” 

“my phone...”

“… do you have a tripod?”

“no…” jay blankly stares at jungwon, shutting his laptop and beginning to pack his things into his back. 

“you must take me for some kind of joke.”  grabbing his now-packed bag and slinging it over his shoulder done with the current conversation. 

“wait wait wait i’m serious i swear. i just… haven’t gotten my start.” jay sighs deeply, his eyes stabbing jungwon with a piercing glare. 

“do you have good lighting?” jungwon pauses for a second and thinks back to his room, he had some poorly strung-up led lights as well as an accent lamp in the corner of his bedroom.

“maybe…”

“you don’t have a camera, don’t have a proper setup, and you might have a lightbulb. what kind of project is this?” jay’s voice sounded flabbergasted, unable to understand jungwon’s vision from a videographer’s point of view, whatever the fuck jungwon was planning to record was going to be trash. 

“a personal project.”

“well, then what the fuck is in it for me?” 

“… not much.” 

jungwon had no idea how he managed to do it, but now jay was standing in his bedroom, analyzing the environment, walking around the bed, and looking at the room. turning around to stare at jungwon with a look of judgment. 

“are you trying to film a fucking porn?’ 

“whaaatt nah, nothing like that…” jungwon’s hand scratches the back of his neck, eyes avoiding the other boys.

“sure, what’s the focus point?”

“… the bed”

“alright, porn it is.” 

“it’s not porn. it’s wrestling!” jungwon winces at his bad cover-up, if it wasn’t already obvious (clearly it was) he had just blown his (non-existent) cover. 

“listen, every videographer has dabbled into pornography. there’s no shame, anyways i’d say this angle right here is best for a still shot.” 

“what about close-ups-“ and before won could finish his sentence the sound of the front door shutting could be heard through the small apartment and the sound of your voice shouting down the empty hallway to him. 

“baby, i’m home- oh we have guests??” jungwon doesn’t miss the way you quickly scan jay’s figure before leaning in to give won a peck on the lips, quickly pulling away and excusing yourself. “practice was long, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“she’s a dancer?” jungwon doesn’t fail to miss how jay keeps his eyes on you as you walk out, hands in his pockets before he resumes his conversation with won. “consultation fee is usually $100, but since you and your girlfriend are hot and you’re desperate, i could go for $75.” jay leans on the door frame, watching as you walk out of the bathroom in your shorts and sport-bra, grabbing the towel you seemed to have forgotten. 

“… great, i’ll pay you this weekend.” won also didn’t fail to watch you run across the hallway to grab your favorite fuzzy towel, and he certainly didn’t miss jay calling the two of you hot. 

“this weekend? you can’t be fucking serious.” jay pinches the space between his eyebrows, swearing he could feel his brain thumping against his temple dealing with the younger. 

“or, my girlfriend and i could give a different form of payment?” 

【☆】★【☆】

you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to sit you down on your bed after your shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around you while the guy you had briefly seen earlier set up a camera in the corner of your room. you weren’t put off though… the way his sharp eyes looked over and he adjusted the camera every few minutes was enough to have a puddle forming between your legs. 

“jay’s going to be helping us with that bucket list baby?” jungwon’s sickeningly sweet voice came from in front of you, his hands rubbing your thighs as he squatted in front of you, the now identified jay working behind him. “you’re already doing such a good job and being so pretty for the camera.”

“camera’s on, just start when you’re ready.” even his voice was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“why don’t you take this off pretty?” jungwon tugs on the end of the towel, slipping it from around your form and dropping it onto the floor. his hands return to your thighs, dragging up to your waist as he raises himself to be leveled with your chest. kissing your left boob before taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub. 

“why don’t you make some noise for the camera, don’t make me feel like i’m wasting my time here.” jay’s harsh words paired with jungwon lightly biting down on your nipple has you letting out a high-pitched sound of satisfaction. “just like that.”

jungwon’s pushing you back and lifting your legs onto his shoulders, moving down to kiss your cunt. “put on a show for hyung? we want to make this worth it for him baby.” he marks the inside of your thighs up, leaving you to pull at your hair in frustration, the build-up not being nearly enough for you. 

“please wonnie, please i need more.” 

“i don’t think the camera is picking that up, say it louder pretty.”  jungwon laughs against your cunt, pulling back and looking over at jay, the obvious bulge between the blonde’s legs on display. “jay hyung, why don’t you bring the camera closer, she’s dripping like crazy.” 

jay moves the set-up, bringing the camera close as won moves out of the way, giving the perfect view of your cunt glistening and dripping down onto the bed. you can hear jay groan, looking up to see him straining against his slacks. 

seeing jungwon and jay stand next to each other and glare at you through the screen of the camera setting something off inside of you. 

“can i be the director for a moment…” you speak lowly, unsure of if the two of them would let you get your hands on the camera, but pleasantly surprised when jay hands the device over to you. jay and won continue to stand over you, watching you fumble with the camera and flip it around towards them, the visual of them looking down on you making you cower and turning you on all at once. 

“what do you want us to do angel?” jay smirks at you, chuckling lightly as he watches you fumble around with the camera.

“take off your shirts…”

“what do you say, angel?”

“…please?”

“good girl.” you watch as the two of them grab the backs of their shirts and tug them over their heads, the contrast in their skin tones complimenting each other nicely. 

“could you kiss too… please?”

“you remembered your manners, good job.” jay turns to face won, grabbing your boyfriend’s chin. you had never seen your boyfriend look so gone before, you usually had an idea of what he was thinking but with his empty eyes and jaw slightly dropped down you were sure you knew exactly what he was thinking. he wanted jay just as much as you did. 

“you okay with kissing me, pretty boy?” the way jungwon dumbly nods back at jay makes the older suck air through his teeth. “fuck, you two are making me so hard right now.” pushing his lips against your boyfriend’s roughly, you gasping behind the camera and pushing your knees together, trying your best to hold steady and keep the two of them in frame. 

without you having to give any further direction jay is pulling jungwon in by his waist, won raising his arms to tangle his hands in jay’s hair, messing up the strands that were once neatly styled. 

jay’s deep groans mixed with won’s whines drive you crazy, the two of them dragging their covered-up cocks together, the layers between them making them push against each other desperately.  

you put the camera down and reach for won’s belt trying your best to help only to feel a slap against your hands, jay’s hand roughly grabbing the hair on the back of your head and tilting your head up to look at him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 

you freeze, lip slightly quivering as you struggle to respond. 

“i- i’m helping..” you hear jay tsk, shaking his head at you. 

“jungwon, she isn’t even recording. wasn’t that the whole point of this? I might as well pack my things up and leave.” 

“apologize y/n. you’re disappointing our guest.” the switch that flipped in won’s mind had you reeling. just a moment ago he was almost as out of it as you were, you couldn’t even begin to figure out how he could bounce back in a split second. his hand reached towards your face and pinched your cheek, slightly shaking your face in a teasing way. “what do you say to jay hyung?”

“i’m sorry. i’m really sorry jay.”

“how about i prop the camera up and then you can show me just how sorry you are? you’d like that yeah?” he massages the back of your head, soothing the spot he tugged on before picking up his camera and walking back over to the tripod. “help won out of those pants.”

you drop to your knees immediately getting to work, taking off won’s belt and dropping the pants to his ankle, massaging his achingly hard length through his thin boxers. you could see his member jump through the flimsy material, spit building up in your mouth at the thought of having it lay heavy on your tongue. 

you’re unable to stop yourself from leaning in and sucking on the tip, the soft material between your mouth and his skin doing very little to stop you, the spot growing darker as you suckle him. 

“nu uh, i need my payment first.” jay softly pushes jungwon out of the way and sits on the mattress, beckoning for the two of you to come over to him.

jay pulls his pants and underwear down, letting his irritated tip meet the cool air and slap up against his stomach. your eyes go wide, he’s thick and long. a prominent vein up the side that you’d kill to feel inside you.

“come on now, wrap those pretty lips around me.” jay spreads his legs and makes space for you between him, letting you settle between him before pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail. “say ‘ahh’” and the moment you do the most satisfying grown is leaving both jay and won’s mouths. your face flushes, proud of yourself for getting both of them to react in such a way. 

jay taps his member against your tongue before pushing in with no warning, enjoying the way you gag around him and your throat clenches around his tip. you struggle to take him properly, tears building up in your eyes as you look up to him and practically plead for him to let you up. 

jungwon groans beside jay, kissing up on his tan skin and marking up jay’s neck after every couple of kisses. you wanted so badly to join won and help, but the feeling of jay cock continuously thrumming against the back of your throat has you losing focus and your eyes rolling back. 

“she can’t even do it on her own, why don’t you help her out won?” you pull off for a quick moment, keeping only the tip in your mouth to suck on as you watch won bite down onto jay’s neck, the older boy hissing, his length twitching in your mouth as he does so. “come on she’s waiting for you.”

won uses his thumb to wipe the spit from his lower lip, wrapping both his hands around jay’s length and pumping the older boy, waiting for you to continue bobbing your head up and down. 

“fuck, i’m seeing stars right now.” 

your tongue comes out the trace the underside of his member, jay’s thighs clenching underneath your hands as you push yourself to take more, won’s hands getting everything you couldn’t reach. you watch as won slightly opens his hand, letting a glob of spit slip out of his mouth and drip down onto jay’s cock, adding more to the messy mixture of precum and your spit that’s already glazing jay’s member.

you couldn’t tell if the slick sounds were because of your mouth or jungwon’s slippery hands but you do know jay was loving every moment of it and you were going to have to watch back this tape later.

without any warning your throat was being coated with a warm release, jay tugging you off as jungwon milked the rest out of him, letting the last couple of streaks paint your lips and lashes. 

“show me my cum angel.” you open your mouth, one eye-opening as the other stays shut, trying to prevent the cum from getting in. jay spits into your mouth, watching as his clear liquid mixes with the pearly white one. 

“pretty, i want a taste too.” your boyfriend’s hand came around your next and pulled you up to him, lips meeting and his tongue scooping jay’s fluids into his mouth, groaning at the taste of both you and his senior.  swallowing down the bit of liquid he was able to get into his mouth. both you and won gulped it down before facing jay and showing him both your tongues, proof of it being all gone. 

“fuck i need this on tape-“

and then you hear three beeps from the corner of the room. 

“never mind, the camera just died...”

ᯓ★

@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.

[autumnscribbles]

lost | c.b

summary: you convince colby to finally let you join an adventure, but what was supposed to be a fun night takes a wrong turn.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none really? 

a/n: my first colby imagine!!! i absolutely loved writing this and getting back into the fandom so i hope y’all like it! feel free to send more requests :) it ended up being pretty long and probably not my best work but it was so fun anyway!! hope you enjoy lemme know! 

                                                           ~

“Pleeeeease can I come babe?” you begged, pouting as you stood in front of Colby as he was packing his camping equipment.

“Y/n I really don’t want anything to happen to you,” he sighed. “It could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine!” you reassured him. “I’ve gone camping lots of times, plus I’ll be with the pros.”

“Yeah man, let her come!” Sam piped up from behind you. You turned around and grinned at him, knowing that he would be on your side.

“Fine,” Colby sighed, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Only because I can’t say no to that face.”

-

You felt a mix of nervousness and excitement as Colby pulled over the car, ready to go set up your camp site. It was also your first time in a Sam and Colby video, and you were excited to have this new experience documented so well.

You guys all began pulling the camping equipment out of the trunk. Thankfully, it was still light outside so you weren’t feeling too spooked yet. You had never had a paranormal encounter yourself but after being with Colby for so long, you couldn’t quite say you didn’t believe in it. You felt yourself feeling jumpy at every small sound, and the boys found it quite amusing.

“Guys, as you can see, Y/n is not used to being in haunted forests,” Sam laughed, pointing the camera at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you laughed. “Once I get into the swing of things I’m gonna be tougher than all of you.”

The boys laughed as you began to walk down the narrow path to try and find a good place to set up camp. The boys pointed out a nice area and you all began setting up the tents. You had to admit, you weren’t the best at it, so the boys did most of the work. Once they had set the tents up, you crawled into yours and placed down the sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks you brought.

“Are you sure you don’t want to all sleep in the same tent, Sam?” you asked.

“Depends how scared I get,” he chuckled. “But if you hear me crawling into your tent in the middle of the night, you’ll know why.”

Once you had set up camp, you guys decided to explore the forest a little. It was starting to get dark, and you felt the eeriness hovering around you. You jumped slightly as you heard a low, growling noise.

“Did you hear that?” you asked, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” Colby chuckled nervously. “Was that an animal or a person?”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” you laughed. “Let’s keep going, didn’t you guys say there’s a cabin in these woods somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where it is relative to where we’re standing now though,” Sam replied, looking around as if that would give him a clue.

You walked around the forest for a while, but decided you’d save searching for the cabin another day since you currently didn’t know where it was and it was getting dark. Eventually, you made your way back to the tents and decided to take it easy the rest of the night.

You lay in the tent, Colby’s arm wrapped around you, your hood pulled up over your head to keep warm.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Not too scared?”

“I’m fine,” you smiled. “It hasn’t been too scary yet minus a few weird noises we’ve heard while walking around.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Try to get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.”

You nodded as you curled into him, trying to warm up. The nights felt very cold in the tent, but luckily for you Colby was a great heater when you were cold. You tried not to focus too hard on every little sound around you, and eventually dozed off.

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You jumped slightly, rummaging for it beside you. By the time you found it, the ringing stopped. It was probably nothing. As you tried to go back to sleep, you felt like you needed to pee. You sighed, pulling your shoes on to leave the tent. You felt nervous, and debated waking Colby up, but decided against it. You weren’t going to go far, and it would only take a minute.

You unzipped the tent quietly, walking off just past the tents to go to the bathroom, when you heard a sound beside you. You looked over, not seeing anything in the pitch black. You heard a whisper, and approaching sounds of leaves and branches cracking. You tried to call for Colby, but your voice was only a whisper. When you felt something graze your arm, you took off running. You didn’t have time to scream, or call for Colby or Sam, your instincts told you to just run as fast as you possibly can.

You were out of breath and finally slowed down, but now you had absolutely no idea where you were. Your adrenaline was so high, that you didn’t even take a mental note of how to get back to the camp site. You pulled out your phone, turning the flashlight on to hopefully find the main path again. You felt terrified. You jumped at every small noise, scared that whatever touched you would come back. You started to wonder if there was anything at all, or if your fear made things up. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, feeling stupid. Why didn’t you just wake up Colby? Why didn’t you scream instead of taking off? What if you never got back?

You tried screaming their names, but you had no idea how far you were. If they could even hear you, especially if they were asleep. Your phone didn’t have service now, despite the strange phone call from earlier. You wanted to be strong, so you started walking, hoping to god you weren’t going even further from the boys.

-

Colby jolted awake, unsure what it was that stirred him from his surprisingly peaceful sleep. When he reached over to cuddle you, he was met with nothing but your empty sleeping bag.

“Y/n?” he whispered.

He put on his shoes and got out of the sleeping bag, hoping he’d find you nearby. When he didn’t see you, his heart began racing, his breathing quickening.

“Sam?” he called, running over to his tent and beginning to unzip it.

“What’s going on?” Sam mumbled, still half asleep.

“Y/n’s gone,” Colby said, the back of his throat stinging with the sobs threatening to escape him.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Same asked, suddenly completely awake and alert, grabbing his flashlight and turning it on.

“I-I don’t know. I woke up and she wasn’t beside me and she’s gone,” Colby rambled. “We need to find her.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sam whispered. “We’ll find her. Let’s get some of your stuff and we’ll try to follow the path.”

They began screaming your name as loud as they could, hoping you could hear them and weren’t too far. They didn’t care about anything haunted anymore, all they cared about was finding you.

“Dude what if we don’t find her?” Colby asked, beginning to panic. “I can’t let anything happen to her.”

“We’re going to find her,” Sam said confidently. “We just need to keep looking, she couldn’t have gone too far I don’t think.”

-

Your pace began slowing, the exhaustion taking over you. You hadn’t made any progress from the looks of it. You were starting to give up. You were dehydrated, cold, and pure exhausted.

You fell to your knees, putting your head in your hands as you sobbed.

“Colby!!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. “Please!”

Your wails turned silent, utter defeat consuming your body. There was no way you could find your way back in the dark like this. Your extreme and utter panic had faded. Your adrenaline had depleted, and you felt your eyes fluttering shut as you rested your head on the cold, damp, floor.

-

“Colby!!!” a faint scream said in the distance.

“That was her!” Colby screamed. “Y/n!!!! I’m coming!!!”

The boys began running towards where they heard the sound. It was faint, but they heard it. They must have been somewhat going in the right direction.

They continued calling your name, Colby wiping tears from his face as he continued to move forward. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t. Not until he knew you were safe.

After what felt like hours of walking, Sam came to a halt. 

“Colby...” he whispered, his flashlight aimed towards a form on the ground. It looked like a human...it looked like you.

“Y/n!” Colby screamed, sprinting over to you and shaking you. The worst case scenario briefly flitted through his mind as he waited for you to open your eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting Colby’s in the glow of the flashlight. It instantly woke you up again.

“COLBY!” you screamed, jumping up and wrapping your arms around him, instantly breaking into sobs.

“Oh my god, you’re okay,” he cried as he held you as tight as he ever had. 

“You found me,” you whispered. “I thought I was going to die out here.”

“Of course I found you,” he said, stroking the back of your head. “What happened? How did you get so far?”

“I-I got up to pee and I heard something. Then I felt something touch me and I just started running. I didn’t even think,” you explained, tears streaming down your face. “I was so scared, Colby.”

“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered as he rubbed your back. Sam sat next to you, wrapping his arms around you, too.

You felt so grateful for both of them. They didn’t give up on you when you gave up on yourself. You felt overwhelmed by love not only for Colby, but for Sam too.

“I think we should go home,” Colby said. “We can come back another time.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “This was supposed to be a fun adventure, let’s not ruin it because of this. I’m fine, really.”

“Babe, I don’t think we should-,” he started.

“Really, Colby,” you smiled, placing your hand on his cheek. “Let’s make this the most epic adventure ever.”

“Okay,” Colby agreed. “But promise you’ll wake me up if you have to leave the tent for anything, okay?”

“Promise,” you smiled, kissing him gently.

The three of you walked back to the campsite, hand in hand, finally feeling calm. You had the scare of your life, but you were happy to be back and safe with the boys. Sam decided to sleep in your tent, which made you laugh because you knew it would happen eventually.

Tomorrow was a new day, and what was a ghost hunting adventure without fearing for your life? You thought sarcastically.

You lied down between the two boys, pulling the sleeping bag up to your chin.

“I’m happy to be here with you,” you said. “Even though in that moment I wanted to be anywhere else.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, girl,” Colby chuckled, pulling you closer to him.

He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight from now on, and you couldn’t be happier or feel more safe.

[ellies-star]

feels good. part 1

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader. 

an. lol attempting to write a lil dealer!ellie fic. aLsO there is no smut in this part sorryyy

synopsis. dina convinces ellie to go to Jesse's frat party, and somehow finds herself smoking with a girl in the back of her truck. (this is purely reader and ellie getting high and then fucking). warnings. 18+. mentions of drugs (nicotine and weed) and alcohol, ellie and reader smoke together, making out, sexual tension and suggestions?

Ellie had been planning out her Friday night all day. She had spent the entire week studying her ass off for exams, working at the coffee shop after classes and managing her side hustle; she was ready for a break. She fumbled with her keys for a moment before bursting through the front door of her shared apartment with a loud sigh of relief.

Her back slumped due to the excessive amount of biology textbooks weighing down her backpack. After finally shrugging it off her shoulders to her wooden floors, she crashed onto the couch with a groan. Her feet ached from standing on them all afternoon, making coffee for buzzing students– who definitely did not need that extra shot of espresso. She kicked off her black converse, sending them flying in different directions, finally settling her feet onto the coffee table in front of her. She sank into the plush cream couch pillows, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. “Honey I’m home!” She announced to her roommate blow drying her damp hair, and blasting Elephant by Tame Impala in the bathroom.

Dina swung open the door and revealed her dark locks blowing wildly from the dryer. Ellie could barely hear her over the loud sound of blasting air, but she managed to get a “welcome home dearest!” She thought she heard Dina say something else after retreating back to the bathroom, but the words were drowned out by the noise. Ellie shrugged it off, finally getting the chance to close her eyes. However, the moment of peace did not last long.

“Ellie! What are you doing? You can’t sleep!” Dina jumps onto the end of the couch, shaking Ellie’s legs awake. Ellie’s eyebrows furrow and she groans in response. For fucks sake, she thinks to herself.

“Why, so loud! The hell are you talking about, it’s nap time.” Ellie mumbles curling into a ball. Rolling her eyes, Dina lays her chin and arms on Ellie’s hips.

“Ellie we have to leave for Jesse’s party in like an hour, did you forget?” Ellie stays silent for a moment, humming while searching for the lost memory of when she agreed to this shindig. Then she grumbles, cursing her past self for getting into this predicament.

“Shit, yeah I did forget…” Ellie runs a hand down her face. “I don’t know D, I’m fucking exhausted.” Turning around and lifting her chin up to Dina who has moved to retrieve a hairbrush. “I had class from 9 to 3:45, and worked at Java till–” she looks at her watch– “20 minutes ago.” She throws her head back down to the seat cushions.

“I– yeah that’s a lot… I know this week has been brutal for you.” Dina pauses, “You don’t have to go, I just know Jesse was looking forward to seeing us both.” Dina looks down at her brush picking out the hair while leaning against the door frame.

Ellie scoffs at this. “You know I love Jesse, but he just wants me to go and be his plug for the night.” She begins to sit up, leaning her forearms onto her knees.

Dina shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, “Mmm, yes he did want you to sell at this party, but he also wanted to hangout! Y’know we’re his only friends outside of the frat.” Turning back around to the bathroom to start applying makeup. “Okay, how about this!” She bops her head back out, “It’s 8:30, you can take a nap and I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes. See how you’re feeling, then decide– Deal?”

Ellie ponders the offer, she does believe in the power of, well, a power nap. And a redbull.

“Deal.”

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Ellie pulls up the road to the infamous house of Sigma Omicron Pi (ΣΟΠ). Different colored lights flooded from every window, a sea of drunk UCSC students painted the massive front lawn. The bass of Knock Knock by Mac Miller pouring out of the house’s speakers. She pulls her 1997 Land Cruiser into park a few feet away from the mess. The homes in the neighborhood were separated by at least 50 ft— making the perfect spot for a frat house.

She takes a swig of her half finished red bull, before turning off the engine. Looking to the passenger seat, she watches Dina apply more blush, concealer and whatever that last sparkly thing in a tube was. “D, you look fine. I don’t know why you bother.”

Dina rolls her eyes in response jokingly. “Not everyone can be a chapstick lesbian with perfect skin and lashes like you, Els.”

Ellie scoffs, “Shut up, you look good without makeup. That’s why I don’t think you need it.” She gets out of the car to grab a few dime bags and pre-rolls to shove into her black herschel shoulder bag.

Dina finishes applying some lip gloss and closing the visor mirror. “Yeah I know, but sexy eyeliner and glitter makes me feel good.” She flashes Ellie a grin and wink before opening the car door. “Now let’s go! We’re late, and I’m too sober for this shit!”

Ellie barks a laugh while locking up her car, before following her towards the massive house.

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The two were greeted by red solo cups littering the grass, creating a trail to the porch. They walked past a group of frat boys in the middle of an intense game of pong. Opening the green wooden door, the sheer volume of the music blasted Ellie in the face. The loud sounds shook her chest, the deep bass sending a vibration through her ears down to her ribcage. She could barely hear Dina say to keep an out for Jesse, even though they were only inches apart. The hallway leading to the living room was filled with more people, the two girls having to squeeze past them in zigzags.

Eventually they made it to the massive living room, a dance party occurring in the middle of the floor. There had to be around 50 people in this room alone. It was either sweaty bodies grinding against one another, the excessive amount of liquor in the jungle juice causing them to move loosely, or it was a group of people laughing and shoving one another into the dance circle.

Whatever it was, Ellie didn’t want any part of it. She continued to follow Dina into the kitchen— where they finally spotted Jesse.

She watched as Dina ran up to him, ending whatever conversation he was in the middle of. She kissed him in a rush, then pulled away leaving him beaming.

“Baby, you made it! I was wondering where you were.” Jesse smiles, while holding her close.

“Sorry, I know I know. Ellie needed an extra 15 minutes for her power nap.” Dina giggles, nodding her head in my direction.

He looks up to find Ellie leaning against the counter. “It’s good to see you Els, glad you could make it.” He steps away from Dina to pull Ellie into a hug.

“Yeah man, wouldn’t miss it.” She chuckles, letting go of his hand to adjust the strap of her bag. He eyes her movements, then remembers why he invited her.

“Did you uh, did you bring anything to sell by chance?” He dips his chin low and brings his face closer for Ellie to hear better over the loud music and conversations.

She nods, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. “Got a few dime bags and pre-rolls in here, got extra in the car too if ya need ‘em.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Sweet, there’s a group outside in the back and then in a room upstairs that were looking to buy. Sure you won’t run out any time soon.” He gives her another nod while slinging an arm around Dina. “Anyway, I was about to grab another drink— shall we?” He motions towards the open back door.

“Let’s go! I need a seltzer, asap.” Dina squeals while walking through the crowd of people.

The fresh air felt good against Ellie’s face. Even though they hadn’t been inside the house long, it set her body into a heat wave underneath her hoodie and black jeans. Jesse had grabbed Dina and him a new drink, then led Ellie to a group of people smoking cigarettes and sitting along the white fence.

“Yo Jesse, what’s good!” One of the boys leans off the ledge to greet him.

“Hey Josh, this is Ellie. She’s selling right now, if you’re still looking to buy.”

Josh looks over at Ellie with a goofy grin. He takes a drag before handing it to a girl on his left. “Yeah man! What’chu got?” His breath was hot, filled with the scent of tobacco and Mezcal.

“Wedding Cake and Blue dream in dime bags, and a few hybrid pre-rolls.” Ellie removes her hands from her pockets to open her crossbody bag. She lets the group look at a few samples.

“Shit, that sounds great. How much for the Wedding Cake and a joint?” The boy asks, while analyzing the work of her pre-rolls.

“Bags $15 and joints $5.”

“Sold.”

And just like that, Ellie went throughout the first two hours dealing left and right. Somehow, she found herself a cigarette and two beers in, with only a joint left in her bag. She had lost Dina and Jesse to the backyard after a game of rage cage at some point. Party games weren’t really her thing, she typically likes to be a fly on the wall— find a space to chill and smoke for a little bit, before Dina was ready to go home.

Which is exactly what Ellie planned to do.

The inside of the house was too loud, and the backyard was packed— as a frat party should be. Ellie didn’t know anyone else besides Dina and Jesse here, and she wasn’t really in the mood to mingle. As her Red Bull began to wear off, she remembered the front porch. She recalled it had a swing, and by this point most people had fled to the inside where there was dancing and more alcohol.

She opened the front door, the cool night air greeting her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, the smell of mixed smoke and cedar filled her nose. And when she exhaled, the door closed, and the obnoxious noise of house music faded— just a little.

However, her moment of peace was startled by the squeak of the porch swing. She jumped and stumbled slightly as she looked to her left; there sat a girl she hadn’t seen before— and Ellie would’ve remembered if she saw her, because she was stunning.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

You bore a cider in hand, leaning back into the wooden swing with a puzzled look on your face.

Shit… she’s pretty, Ellie thought to herself.

Your hair poured over your bare shoulders, keeping you warm from the brisk air. You sat crossed legged, in worn-out denim jeans and a loose olive green tank top.

Ellie’s hazy eyes trailed the goosebumps that arose on your tanned arms, all the way to your chest. You were braless, hard nipples poking through the thin cotton of your tank top.

“Anyone ever tell you that staring is rude?” You spoke. Self consciously you drew your knees up to your chest and took another swig from your cider.

Ellie lifted her gaze immediately and locked eyes with you, her cheeks burned crimson from embarrassment. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts, “Sorry, didn’t realize someone was already out here, uh I’ll just–” Ellie mumbled the last bit of her words, ready to turn on her heels and kick herself once she was back inside for the obvious ogling. You just chuckled in response.

“I’m messing with you– sort of. What’s your name?” A playful smile began to appear on your lips, they were the color of rose. Ellie made a mental note of how soft they looked pressed against the lip of your bottle. All Ellie could think was how she wishes they were pressed against–

“It’s uh… Ellie! It’s Ellie…” Jesus fucking christ did I seriously almost forget my own name?

You couldn’t help but giggle at her nervousness. “Well, uh Ellie, I’m Y/N. Wanna join me?” You patted the spot next to you on the wooden swing, and Ellie’s heart fluttered.

“Sure.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, despite the the intense pounding in her chest and twisted feeling in her stomach.

You shifted slightly in attempt to make more room for the blushing girl. She plopped softly onto the bench next to you, trying to make herself small. She still managed to brush your arm with her own. The short contact made you shiver.

“So, what brings you here? To the party I mean— pretty obvious you came outside to escape the mess in there.” You took another swig.

You watched as she turned her head away from you, and then it was your turn to stare. Ellie looked forward, showing off her delicate side profile, but strong jawline. Her lashes were long, and freckles painted her cheeks and nose like a map. You could see the gears turning in her head, she was debating something before looking back at you. You were mesmerized, her green eyes were the color of sunlight filtering through trees.

“I know Jesse, he’s a guy from the frat—” Ellie paused to swing her bag into her lap to pull out a plastic one, “—he asked me to deal for the party.” She unzipped the baggy and fished for the preroll. “You smoke?” A small smile appeared on her lips when you nodded your head ‘yes’.

“ah gotcha, plug for the evening. were you just selling joints?”

“Nope, dime bags too. Everything went pretty quick thankfully.” She patted her pockets looking for something. “Shit I forgot my lighter in the car.” She began to stand up when she noticed you shiver again as a breeze came through. “we could uh, smoke this in my car if you want? I have blankets in there too.” She rubbed the back of her neck, afraid that was too forward after you spoke for literally less than 2 minutes.

but it wasn’t too forward, in fact, you’d rather get as far away from this house as possible and be with this random girl you just met with short brown hair and a goofy grin.

“That sounds good to me, it’s cold as hell out here.” You couldn’t help but smile at one another.

“Sweet, I’m just down the road.” Ellie readjusts her bag and pops the joint behind her ear, watching you down the last bit of your cider.

You finally leave the trash covered lawn and spot a large car in the distance. “What kind of car you drive?” You ask crossing your arms to bite the cold.

Ellie chuckles. “It’s a land cruiser, I don’t know if you know it— they’re not the coolest car.”

“What? Of course I know it! That used to be my dream car next to a 4Runner!” You beam, getting more excited the closer you approach the green SUV.

“Seriously? Can’t believe I met the only girl at this party who knows about these things.” At this point, Ellie’s stomach is doing flips and you were the ring master.

You whistle when you pull up, impressed by the state of the car, despite it being an old model. “You must take good care of it, she looks good. what is it— 95’?”

Ellie blinks at you in aw while unlocking the car— “97’.” Did she just win the lottery?

“Hot.” You smirk while getting into the passenger seat. Even though it was joke, it made Ellie’s legs buckle.

You slide onto the soft leather of the seat. Looking around, you know this girl is a lesbian. The console had been replaced by something more modern, and when Ellie turned the car on, it hummed to life making it softly fade into interchanging rainbow colors. In addition to the gay radio, a tash sultana cd laid in the cup holders, next to a mug with boobs on it.

“God it’s gay in here.” You laughed, bringing a knee up onto the seat.

Ellie rolled her eyes, “well it’s probably because I’m gay.”

Ellie’s phone reconnected to the Bluetooth, and she quickly found a playlist. Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood began to play by she turned the volume.

“Wow really, I couldn’t tell.” You smirked earning a raised eyebrow from the brunette who was already lighting the joint.

She took a few puffs, breathing in, and slowly breathing out before handing it off to you. “takes one to know one…” She spoke, more as a question than a statement.

You took the joint between your fingers, brushing hers in the process. It sent tingles all the way up your arm. You brought it up to your lips to repeat her actions. A few drags in, letting the smoke slowly slip past your lips. “this is true.” You chuckled looking over at her.

Ellie’s eyes followed your every move, the way your fingers delicately held onto the joint, and the way your lips looked wrapped around the filter. There it was again, that thought about how your lips would look really good on-

“Earth to Ellie?” You waved your free hand to signal her back to reality. She locked eyes with you again. Even though it was dark, you could see a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks in the dim red lighting from her radio.

“Oh sorry, thanks.” Another long drag. “So how did you end up at the party?” She ques, taking one more hit before handing it off to you.

The joint was shorter, and you brushed fingers again. You liked how rough the pads of her fingers were. Now it was your time to blush, nearly dropping the joint in the process. You took a moment after your hit to think about your answer.

“Well, a girl invited me, and then I found her making out with someone else.” You blew out the smoke almost releasing your frustrations from earlier. “a guy from the frat, actually.”

Ellie winced at your response. “Damn, that’s rough I’m sorry.” A wave of emotions went through her, anger— because how could someone stand you up? But also relief— knowing that you weren’t going home with anyone gave her hope. “Bummer you didn’t get to make out with anyone, a real shame.” She joked, the weed making the two of you laugh.

“Truly! I mean the whole point of coming out here was to get laid.”

You both chuckled. You felt all ooey gooey from your chest down to your stomach. The effects of the joint, and the bass from the car, made your body melt into the seat cushions. You closed your eyes and hummed into satisfaction.

But Ellie, Ellie was more tense than ever. She watched as one of your legs came up onto the seat to make yourself more comfortable, your knee reaching outward onto the middle console closer to Ellie’s own leg. The other one casually spread out against the door. You looked so damn hot like that, and her thoughts began to drift.

She wondered what it would be like to softly rub the inside of your thigh. To lean over and leave a trail of kisses along your neck and jaw. What kind of noises you’d make if she could have her way with you in that passenger seat.

And when you opened your eyes, they locked with Ellie’s— a dark shade of moss and pine. Your eyes felt heavy, but you couldn’t seem to look away. But Ellie’s eyes began to travel, all over your body. Your face began to heat up, you wanted to know what she was thinking about, but you had a good idea. You could feel the way her eyes undressed you, and it made the feeling in your stomach even hotter, now pooling into your underwear.

You noticed the joint was coming to an end, and you had a thought. You reached over for her hand, which caused her to shake from her perverted thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was holding onto—“

You didn’t let her finish before you brought the short joint, still stuck between her worn fingers, to your soft lips. They were pressed gently against her pointer and middle finger. Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with pure admiration. She licked her lips before bringing her bottom one between her teeth, and letting her thumb rest against your jaw, softly stroking your cheek.

You pulled away a few seconds before gently pulling on her arm again, this time you leaned in as well. Your eyes were still heavy, but you were able to make contact with hers one more time before glancing down to her rosey lips. Your faces only inches apart.

“What are you—“ she began to question before you cupped her left cheek and brought your lips to hers. It was the slowest and softest touch, your lips felt light.

Despite Ellie’s high and sex driven brain, she could register what was happening, you were trying to shotgun. She lifted her other hand to hold the place between your neck and jaw, and gently sucked the smoke when you blew it into her mouth.

You pulled away to try and catch your breath. Your nose brushed hers as you pulled back slightly to watch Ellie exhale, but her hand never left your neck. It all felt like a dream, the way the smoke slipped past her lips as she tilted her head back slightly so it went up and not in your face. The sight of her left another warm wave between your legs. You could still feel her lips on your own, the tingling feeling dancing on your bottom lip. You wanted more. And she did too.

She didn’t hesitate to put the rest of the joint out and discard it in her ashtray before bringing her face back to yours. She brushed her nose against your own letting you know how close she was.

“Still thinking about how I never got the chance to make out with anyone.” You mumbled into her, causing her to chuckle.

“Y’know I think we can change that.” She smiles before drifting her lips to the side of your cheek, pressing a soft kiss, and dragging them to your jaw and neck. You tilt your head to the side to offer more access, softly humming in response.

“And if your whole plan was to come out here and get laid, we could make that happen too.”

You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. She knew what she was doing, saying that in her sexiest voice. Letting her hand slowly slide up even further into your inner thigh, softly squeezing it. So close to where you need her the most.

“Fuck Ellie get in the back, now.”

[factorialsotherfandoms]

"I should go out," Tubbo says, still curled against Fit's shoulder right where he fell asleep. "See what's up on the island, check in with Bagi... Maybe I can get the avocado toast factory running again? Do you think Phil would like that?"

Fit looks at him, and nods, "you go have fun. I'll keep an eye on everyone."

"... Do you think they'll be okay?"

Fit looks at Pac, and Mike, and Philza, still unconscious over twenty hours after their escape. Still, he smiles his best smile, "they're tough fuckers, they'll be fine."

If Tubbo doesn't believe him then Fit cannot blame him. With so many islanders unaccounted for... When a nuke went off... It'd taken a good hour or so for them to realise there was a deeper level in the boat, where the people who hadn't been able to fight off the drugs on the final day had been tossed. They'd got them comfortable, but that was kinda all there was to be done.

When they arrived on the island the few conscious survivors had been moved. Most went to the Order medical ward, where Roier was left to watch them, and Bagi to watch Roier. There was limited space, however, and a lot of unconscious people - Tubbo had quietly offered up his factories, and taken Pac, Mike, and Philza there.

Fit wonders if maybe Philza, the only person both unconscious and injured, should not have been highest priority to remain at the medical ward. But... Tubbo had reasoned he would feel better among friends, and Fit didn't really want to be separated from any of them either.

Etoiles, the other person with serious injuries, had vanished to lick his own wounds. Fit suspects he knows where he is, but with others here declines to think it.

"Alright," Tubbo's voice is quieter than it should be. "I... I am going to have a good day. Check up on the factories and see if I can find where Quackity put Fred."

"Perfectly normal islander behaviour," Fit says it half as a joke, and half because it's not the worst way to cope in the universe. "I'll comm you if anything changes."

Tubbo nods, and gives him a wave, "stay safe old man! I'll be back this evening."

"Keep yourself safe, kid!" Fit calls back, even as Tubbo grabs his backpack, takes a deep breath, and jogs outside.

Which leaves Fit to look after his friends. There's nothing too urgent, Pac and Mike tucked into hastily made beds, while Philza is in a makeshift nest on the floor. With how bad the sprains are - Fit thinks some of the muscles might be fully torn through, but they don't have a surgeon to help so no point thinking on it - they daren't try fold Philza's wings. Instead he's tucked up on the floor with pillows keeping gravity from pulling the injured wings, tucked in blankets. Fit doesn't think Phil will mind, he knows he has similar in his house.

Philza is also the only person in the room actually injured, and so Fit starts with him. The bandages over Philza's back and wings are for compression, not bleeding, but Fit changes them anyway. He doesn't do a full preen, but he settles the worst of Philza's feathers into place as he works, and assesses his condition. The muscles across Philza's entire back are ruined, badly enough that his breathing suffers too. Exhaustion is writ in every line of his face, but Fit is sure that is true of everyone. Scrapes and bruises, as they all have... It just is as it is.

Once he's done Fit tucks him back under the blankets of the makeshift nest, keeping him warm no matter what the weather decides to do.

Pac and Mike are easier to care for, but no less distressing - wings always complicate things, for all they saved Philza and Tubbo's lives. Now back home everyone unconscious has been given IVs for fluids, and the group stumbled through working out how to properly use them - Roier was aware enough, at least, to insert all of the cannulas. Fit changes the bags and brushes their hair and begs for them to wake. It's been so, so long since Mike was truly with them, and Pac... Pac is often missing for a few days at a time, but Fit doesn't think he can live without him any more.

His rounds complete, Fit settles between them. He refuses to seperate Pac and Mike, so it's easy enough to know where to sit - Pac on his left, with Mike pressed close, and Philza on his right here he can watch the pained rise and fall of his chest. His feet itch and his hands twist, but there is nothing to do. Fit can only sit and watch and wait for the drugs to wear off, for whatever is in Mike's mind to be fought off, for Philza to sleep through his exhaustion and let his back heal enough that the pain can be lived with.

It's a waiting game, and Fit hates waiting, but if its for his friends he will do it willingly.

At some point Philza stirs. It's not full waking, but Fit manages to get him to drink a little water and take some painkillers before he passes out again. It lasts maybe a minute and a half at most before he shifts, gives a stifled scream at the agony of his back, and blacks out once more.

Fit keeps his fingers on Pac's pulse and on Philza's shoulder, and does his best to think about absolutely nothing at all.

Eventually Tubbo returns, and offers Fit the promised avocado toast. He listens to the update - Bad washing up is a relief, is hope for everyone who didn't make the boat, though the state of him is horrifying. Covered in blood, ruined memory... Fit doesn't know how to feel anything any more, not about the people outside of this room - and Ramon, his poor, beautiful baby boy, lost and trapped somewhere after they came so close to saving him.

They'll still get him back - they have to - but damn if it didn't hurt seeing his son be ripped away.

To be called dad by his perfect son for the first time, only to loose his boy.

"Your turn to sleep," Tubbo orders of Fit as he grabs some paperwork from his bag.

"You're the one whose done stuff today, I can stay up," Fit offers instead.

"I'm going to be doing this anyway, you might as well rest," Tubbo waves said papers about. "We don't have Cellbit and Bagi wants to wait for him to investigate, so I'm on clue duty for now."

"Good luck," it sounds a bit like hell to Fit, but keeping occupied can be good in this scenarios. He won't begrude the other man that. "Just remember to get some sleep yourself."

Tubbo flips him off. It's about what Fit expects - he carefully lets go of Philza to curl around Pac, entrusts Tubbo with himself and his loved ones, and permits sleep to take him.

He's going to need it come once someone reaches out from grief and finally decides on a plan.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Strange Sort of Family

hi, resident evil fandom, i'd like to throw my hat in the ring

look, i don't even really go here, the fandom mold just got into my brain and would not fucking leave. this is my first time writing any of these characters so if they feel a bit rocky, please forgive me. my media analysis brain has been spinning nonstop since we started the resident evil brain rot and ho boy would I love to sink my teeth into a proper horror fic but! i don't know if i'm there yet so i figured i'd start a bit easier for me :)

also--we all know there's no way ethan's just gone from the franchise now, right? like, sure, he's dead, but he died like 30 minutes into re7 and that didn't fucking stop him

ALSO also big shoutout to @dragonsareaqueerthing and @greenninjagal-blog for the encouragement to actaully make the words go :) hopefully i'll be spending more time in this fandom now that I've got that ball rolling

Read on Ao3

Warnings: talk about events of shadows of rose dlc, nothing explicit, bullying

Pairings: implied ethan/mia/chris, but Ethan & Rose is the focus

Word Count: 10,919

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Sometimes a family is a molded bioweapon, a traumatized agent, a former bioterrorist, and a series of golden, sparkly words. Sometimes family is decorating your room with your mother, sometimes family is hugging a pillow because your dad isn't here anymore. Sometimes family is training too hard and going out for ice cream, sometimes family is a dinner where your parents won't stop teasing you.

Or, five times Ethan Winters was there for his daughter, and one time Rosemary Winters was there for her father.

1.

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Okay, well, maybe slightly, but only in the way she's able to shake off some of the lesser things that would've made her really upset before. She's no longer threatening the lives of the agents that call her Eveline, to her face or behind her back when they think she can't hear them. Even when she really, really wants to. Small victories.

But despite her best efforts, she still returns to the cell block of a room—Chris had been so insistent that it wasn't a cell, but it was all concrete walls and a tiny window and a camera that she knows is in the corner—and curls up on her bed, jamming her headphones in and refusing to engage with the outside world until she could summon up the resolve to impersonate a normal person again.

Today had been no exception.

Rose throws her backpack onto her desk chair and slings her hat over the hook, kicking her shoes off and collapsing face-first onto the bed with a groan. More tests today, always more fucking tests. Didn't they have every inch of her shitty, moldy body cataloged by now? She has half a mind to start making shit up when they ask her the same stupid questions. 'How are you feeling today, Rose?' Oh, you know, just getting stuck with more needles than a fucking porcupine, how do you fucking think I'm feeling? Yeah, no, no homicidal instincts yet, just had one murderous thought the other day when I was imagining mold eating the bitch who called me a charity case. Although I did go to the park after I snuck away from that asshole you have tailing me on Tuesdays to see if I could amass a mushroom army, how was your day?

A small laugh leaves her throat at the thought of the doctor's face if she actually did say that, but then she'd probably have two assholes tailing her until they deemed her 'no longer a risk.' God, they were supposed to be these super highly trained agents, then why the fuck do they suck ass at being subtle?

Turns out, even having mold superpowers means she still has to breathe like a normal person, so she drags her face up from the bed and doesn't even bother to fully get up to inchworm up to the pillows. She mashes her face against the slightly cold surface—honestly, the best part about this prison-cell-ass room was that the air conditioning was always on Arctic, so her pillows were always cold—and grabs her phone, squinting at the notifications.

One from school saying her group project deadline was coming up…something from some shopping website she'd logged onto out of pure boredom three weeks ago…and a text from Chris.

Rose sits up a little more and opens the text. "Overseas this week…sorry I'll miss the—you fucking dick!"

Of course Chris is working this weekend, of course he's not gonna be fucking here to take her to the cemetery—great, that means another two hours of bus rides until she can actually go see her dad. She swears he does this on purpose sometimes, how often does he actually need to go overseas for 'work?' And it's not like anyone else here would be able to take her, she's learned her fucking lesson about asking them for anything more than more fucking food. Not bothering to stifle her groan, she flops back onto the bed, only for her phone to clatter out of her hand and onto the floor.

Great. Now she has to move again to pick it up.

She decides that moving is actually not what she's going to do right now, letting one arm hang over the edge of the bed, her cheek scrunched awkwardly against the lip of the mattress. She tucks her face against the collar of her jacket and rubs her thumb against the ring on her finger.

"Sorry it's gonna take me longer," she mumbles, "I really wanted to spend longer with you this time."

Her eyes widen when gold sparkling words appear on the floor next to her phone.

it's okay

"What the—" she whips around to look at the door, closed tightly, and jerks back— "how—"

The words are still there. The words are still etched into the floor, right next to her phone. She should check if they're on the camera—no, they can fucking hack into her phone whenever they want, and she doesn't—she can't���if this really is—

Rose swallows the lump in her throat as the words shift and change.

you ok?

"I—what—how are—" she swallows again, camera in the corner of the room, "uh, M-Michael?"

A pause as the words reform: sure

"I mean, I—I know," she says quickly, "I know what—I know what this is, I…I remember, it's just…"

camera, I know

"How is this possible?" she whispers, not daring to move from her haphazard scramble up the bed, "I thought you were—I mean, at the end, when we, uh, did the thing, it seemed like you were…that you were going again."

The words sparkle again as she grips the sleeve of her jacket—his jacket.

apparently i'm bad at it

"Bad at what?"

staying dead

Another laugh chokes its way out of her throat and she reaches out without thinking about it, just to touch the words. They glow a little bit brighter as she touches them and the tips of her fingers glow. Almost as an afterthought, she grabs her phone and shoves it behind her, hopefully muffling the microphone and at the very least, getting its cameras away from her dad.

Her dad. Those are her dad's words, that's her dad, he's here, he's here.

"Are you—is this…are you really here?"

sort of, as the golden words swirl around, part of you

"What do you mean, 'part of me?'"

not a scientist

"You're the only other m—person like me I know, I'm sure it'll be fine." She can almost hear the little huff of laughter as the golden sparkles swirl again. It seems like it's the same as it was when she was in there, with her dad only able to say a few words at a time.

i'm part of the mold, just like you, we're sharing a part right now

"Are you always sharing a part with me?"

i wish i could, and she feels her chest hurt a little bit, takes energy

"I guess that makes sense." Her arm begins to ache from being so stretched out. "I really miss you."

i miss you too sweetie

Fuck, she's 16, she should not be getting this choked up over her dad calling her 'sweetie,' but fuck it, she's a mold person and her dad's dead, she's allowed to sniffle a little when those words glow warmly under her fingers. Some hysterical part of her wonders if he'd be able to give her a tissue or a hanky the way he gave her guns and chem fluid in there, but she scrubs at her nose with her sleeve and decides that it's enough right now that he's here, in her room, still calling her sweetie.

***

2.

She almost recognizes it the second time, a tug in her gut. Given that she's got her hands over her face and is currently doing a fabulous impression of an angry seal, it'd be harder for her to see it. Still, she can't help the dumb smile on her face when she rolls over.

bad day?

"Oh, you know," she mumbles, "just your average day of being a human guinea pig."

ew

She snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "You know I get a look at their notes sometimes? That's what they call you, just your initials."

surprised they're still talking about me

"What do you mean? Of course they're still talking about you, you're the—" she cuts herself off. The golden sparkles swirl.

i'm the what?

"Never mind."

The floorboards wait expectantly, but she twists the ring around her finger, chewing on her lip. After another moment, new words appear.

can i help?

"With what? With the tests?"

with you

Another tug in her gut, this time at the fact that she can't actually remember the last time someone asked after her, not their biggest liability or their most dangerous weapon. She props herself up on the cold pillows—thank you, government AC—and sighs. "I'm just really tired."

i bet

"Like—are they bored? What do they get out of sticking me with the same needle fifty different times? And it's not like they talk to me about anything, they just look at each other and then fake-smile at me and they tell me 'you're doing great,' like I'm supposed to know what that means. And the other people aren't any better! They keep trying to train me how to do a thing but they're not—it's not like they tell me why we're doing something or what I'm supposed to be doing instead, they just tell me I'm wrong and that's it."

that sucks

She huffs. "You have no idea."

After a moment, though, she realizes that might not actually be true. From what little she's actually managed to get Chris to tell her, and what she can learn from Mom, they were both held in BSAA's quarantine for ages before they moved over to Romania. And if Mom knew about Dad's…not-aliveness way before he did, then they must've done some sort of tests on him too.

"Can I ask you something?"

anything

"Did they, um, did they test you too?"

The floorboards stay empty for a minute, but it feels more like he's thinking than it does him avoiding the question. Sure enough, after another moment, words start appearing again.

they did, they didn't tell me anything either, just that i was lucky

"Lucky how?"

to have made it, even when i didn't

"You did, though," she mumbles, fiddling with the ring again, "you—this part of you made it. Chris told me, Mom told me. You…even after you were…gone the first time, you…you came back. The important parts of you, they came back."

and i'm grateful for it, for you

"You're gonna make me cry," she mutters, scrunching up a little tighter.

i love you Rosie

"Shut up." It's empty and they both know it. A few extra sparkles swirl around and she could swear he's laughing. "I love you too."

Sunlight streams in through her tiny window and she finds herself looking at the way the leaves on the tree dapple the shadow across the floor. Part of her dad's words are still glowing. She looks at the nightstand, bare except for her charger and alarm clock, then over at the desk where her school stuff is, then at the dresser. She reaches out and touches the metal bedframe. It's cold underneath her fingers.

what's wrong?

"Nothing." The words remain and she sighs. "I'm just being mopey."

you're allowed to mope

"Someone at school said something today," she says before she can think better of it, and she winces at how young she sounds.

bullies?

"Not really, it wasn't even really about me, I just—it's stupid."

if you're upset it's not stupid

"They were just talking about this thing they got for their room, okay?" Embarrassment makes her curl her fingers into the loose fabric of her jacket. "It's this mirror thing that hooks up to your phone and lets you play music and stuff from there. They were just talking about it and I thought—see, I told you it was stupid."

There's another pause. The breeze rustles the leaves outside. The shadows dance over the walls.

do you want it?

"Not really…I don't like mirrors that much anyway. And it's not like they'd let me just have another thing that connects to the Internet in here." She glances at the alarm clock. "I barely got them to let me get a laptop for school stuff. I don't think they've got a 'Mold Bioweapon Allowance' in their budget."

The silence grows thoughtful. She turns her head to look at the floorboards again, watching the few sparkles there swirl around.

it's your room, they say finally, it should feel like it

Rose scoffs. "What am I supposed to do, walk up and ask them to sponsor a shopping trip?"

why not?

"They're not gonna do that. They're just gonna brush me off again or tell me they're busy."

you've tried?

"I told you, I barely managed to get a laptop, which is something I need to be able to do schoolwork or anything, even have a taste of what being normal is like. And even then I had to argue for like, ages, and I had to get one of my teachers to write an email saying that it's necessary." She swats the white pillowcase, bitterness seeping into her words. "Everything else isn't necessary. They're all about practicality, like I'm just some other expense they have to deal with."

what about Chris? or Mom?

"Chris isn't here. He's always off somewhere doing something or he's here glaring at me like I'm some stupid new recruit that he doesn't want to have to train. And Mom's…I don't want to bother her, you know? She's got her own life now."

she's your mom, come the words almost before she's done speaking, she'd want to know

Rose sighs, sitting up to lean against the headboard. She twists the ring around and around her finger, chewing on her lip. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like she's…like she doesn't want to know."

Another pause. What her dad had said before, about them sharing a part of the mold—she can feel something in her chest. An emotion that isn't quite hers, something like a deep and exasperated sadness. It's faint, not quite enough to put words there, but she can tell when she needs to look back down at the floor.

she does love you, let her

"Okay. I'll try."

thank you

"Would you come shopping with me?" she asks, even when she knows the answer. "If you could?"

The room gets a little happier as the sparkles swirl around.

i'd spend all day with you

"What did you want to have in your room? When you were my age?"

telescope

"A telescope?" She laughs. "Did you want to be an astronaut?"

astronaut ew

She laughs again and the sunlight seems a little brighter.

***

3.

She meets Mom at a coffee shop near the big bookstore downtown. She's not wearing Dad's jacket—it still feels weird to do, even after Mom's said it's fine—but she has his ring on a necklace under her shirt. Mom waves her over to a table in the corner, nodding to the smoothie already waiting.

"Pineapple mango," she says as Rose sits down, "your favorite."

"Thanks, Mom." She takes a big drink, savoring the weird feeling the pineapple leaves on her tongue. "How're you?"

"I'm okay. Work's been getting busy again recently with the month's end rush." Mom swirls her straw around her coffee. "Did I tell you about this new thing our boss is trying to make us do?"

"No, what?"

"Apparently some young CEO in the area made it big on corporate social media about 'team building exercises,'" and Rose is already groaning in sympathy, "so he sent out this survey this past week about what activity we'd rather do."

"What were the options?"

"This group painting class thing, where we all paint the same picture—"

"Like in kindergarten?"

"Like in kindergarten," Mom agrees, "there's a bar-arcade place that's just opened up on the West Side that does private events, and then there's a good old-fashioned work dinner."

Rose makes a face. "That's it? No, like, crazy obstacle courses, or escape rooms, or anything?"

"We barely had the budget for the normal year-end stuff."

"So what did you vote for?"

"I ended up voting for the painting, actually—"

"What? Mom, that's so lame."

"Hey!" She jokingly flicks a napkin at Rose. "Lamer than the most awkward dinner you can imagine or sitting and drinking for a whole evening?"

"Isn't that what adults do? You sit and drink and talk?"

Mom sighs, shaking her head as they both laugh. "Yeah, well, I figured it might be better if we tried to do something that wasn't just sitting and drinking."

"I guess."

"Besides, I'm still missing something for the bathroom upstairs. Maybe I'll hang up whatever I manage to make there," she adds, winking at Rose.

It's supposed to be a joke at how bad at art she is—really, even Chris looked at her stick figures and struggled to find something nice to say, and Mom just laughed it off—but Rose's smile fades and she shuffles a little in the chair. She drinks more of her smoothie. Dad's words turn over and over in her head.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Mm?"

"Would you…" She fights the urge to reach for the ring. "Would you help me decorate my room?"

Mom's brow furrows. "At my house?"

"N-no, my…my room at the compound. It's stupid, never mind."

"It's not stupid, Rose," Mom says, picking up her coffee, "I'm just—I guess I'm just surprised. Most teens don't really want their parents anywhere near their rooms."

"Yeah, well, forget it."

A car drives by. Despite herself, she reaches for the ring anyway. Something warm pulses in her chest.

"It's just," she manages, "I don't really have anything in there. It's just the military stuff."

Mom's coffee cup hits the table with a thud. "What do you mean you don't have anything in there?"

"I mean, there's just a dresser, a desk, and a bed. And my little side table thing. They didn't really give me any—"

"How much time do you have?"

Rose blinks. "Huh?"

"How much time before you have to get back?" Mom's already getting up and putting the lid back on her coffee. "We're not that far from the big stores and I have my car."

"I, uh, I think I have a few hours, so—" she scrambles up too, reaching to grab Mom's arm— "wait, you're really okay with doing this?"

Mom pauses for a moment, then reaches out and covers Rose's hand with hers. "You're my daughter, Rosie, I'd love to help you decorate your room."

A lump appears in her throat and she swallows it down. "Thank you."

"Come on," Mom grins, "what are you thinking you want?"

"Uh, I was thinking maybe like a whiteboard? That way I could write down stuff that I might forget? Or like—a magnetic one so I could stick stuff to it?" She gets into Mom's car and they start driving. "Or a corkboard—I've seen a lot of people pin like, pictures and stuff to a corkboard on their walls."

"What if you get both? A corkboard to put pictures and cute stuff and then a whiteboard to write on?"

"I also want a lamp. The normal lights just make my head hurt. And they buzz, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about. It's like the world's most annoying crickets, isn't it?"

"And there's no, like, in between! It's either no light at all or—"

"Or my eyes are being scorched out, that's right."

They pull into the parking lot of the store and get out, still bouncing ideas back and forth. Mom grabs a cart and they head straight for the stationary section and they spend about five minutes talking about the different corkboards and whiteboards. Then Rose decides she wants magnets so she can stick stuff to the whiteboard, then Mom spots a cute set of push pins, and then another mom and daughter walk by with one of those fancy photo printers that print out pictures from your phone like Polaroids, and they just have to get Rose one of those.

As they pick out lamps and wall decor and sheets that actually have some color, she's struck by how normal this is. She's with her mom. They're shopping for stuff for her room. They're freaking out over the pillows that have little penguins on them. She's actually smiling and laughing and she's excited. She can't wait to get back and put all this stuff in her room.

She just…wishes Dad could be here too.

"I think I'd prefer the yellow lampshade, but it's up to you." Mom looks up from the shelf to notice she's gone quiet. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," she says quickly, wiping surreptitiously at her face, "…just…I kinda wish Dad was here too."

Mom's fingers stutter on the box and for a moment, she thinks she's going to see those walls go up again, the ones that always go up when she tries to talk about Dad, but then Mom puts the box down and rubs at her wedding ring. She still wears it sometimes. Rose reaches for Dad's, under her shirt.

"I wish he was here too, Rosie," Mom says quietly, "he'd be so proud of you."

Rose swallows, and her eyes catch on a tiny monkey LED lamp further down the shelf. She picks it up. "I think he'd vote for this one, don't you?"

A hint of fond exasperation comes to Mom's face. "God, did I ever tell you what happened when he found out that you loved that little monkey you got when you were still a baby? He tried to buy everything monkey-themed he could find because he thought you might like it."

"Wait, really?"

"I had to get Chris to help me talk him out of buying an entire monkey crib for you."

Rose puts the monkey lamp in the cart. Mom smiles and they keep walking. They end up spending way more than she thought they'd be and sheepishly tries to put some stuff back, but Mom won't hear a word of it and bags everything up.

"Chris can help cover the cost if he's so worried about it," she declares as they pull back up to the meeting spot where the car is supposed to take Rose back to the compound, "anyway, all of this should have been done years ago."

"Thanks, Mom," Rose says, "I had fun."

"We should definitely do it again. I'll help you decorate your college dorm too."

Rose smiles and gets out of the car. It fades a bit when she sees Paul again, leaning against the side of the van with his arms crossed. She turns her back deliberately on him and goes to help Mom get all the bags out of the trunk.

"You're late," Paul says, like he has any right to sound like a smug, condescending asshole.

"By like five minutes. Open the trunk."

"What's all that?"

"Stuff. For my room."

"Well, I—hey!" Paul finally moves when Mom just opens the trunk and starts putting the bags inside.

"You must be the agent Rose told me about," Mom says, her voice saccharine as she dusts off her hands, "is that right, honey?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, "that's him."

"Paul," he says, "Ms. Winters."

"Mia." Mom holds out her hand and he takes it, Rose peering at them from under the brim of her hat. Her eyes widen when Mom yanks Paul closer to her, her smile fading as she hisses in his ear. "Call my daughter Eveline again and I'll break your nose, are we clear?"

Paul jerks in surprise, before turning his head slightly. "Stand down, it's fine, I can handle it."

"You can't afford to make a scene in such a public place," Mom says, her voice still perfectly even, "and Chris won't risk harming me or Rose. So you can start treating my daughter like a person or I can break your nose right now and Chris can clean up your mess."

Rose can't stop her snort as Paul sheepishly walks back to the front of the car and gets in. Mom watches him go before she turns around and says, loud enough for him to hear, "Make sure you send me pictures when you get it the way you want it, okay?"

"I will."

"And if you decide you want anything else, we'll get it next time."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Rosie." She glares once more in Paul's direction before she walks back to her car.

Rose doesn't stop smirking as Paul drives them back to the compound. He slinks off with his tail between his legs after helping her get all her stuff into her room. She can't cover up the camera—and let them know she knows about it—but she can play her music out loud as she decorates, hanging up the little plants they found and pinning a few photos to her new corkboard. It still strikes her how normal all of this is, dancing to her music and putting up all of her new things, finally collapsing onto her now-colorful blankets with a laugh.

She texts a few photos to Mom, who responds with gushing reviews and excited emojis, before she rolls onto her side to look at the floor.

"What do you think?"

The words only take a second to appear.

it's beautiful, sweetie

"You were right," she murmurs, "it was really nice to let Mom take care of me a bit."

i'm glad

"Oh! I forgot to show you the best part!" Rose jumps off the bed and goes over to the far wall, switching on the fairy lights she hung from the ceiling amidst a bunch of fake vines. "Now the camera will just think the glowing is from the lights!"

Golden sparkles swirl beneath the soft glow.

you're so smart

"I mean," she blusters, trying not to show how pleased she is, "I was just tired of lying down to talk to you all the time."

i see, still clever

"Thanks." After a moment, she reaches over and picks up the little monkey lamp and her stuffed monkey, safely hidden beneath her pillows. "Mom told me you wanted to buy a monkey crib for me."

it would go with the onesie

"You got me a monkey onesie?"

mom has pictures

"I'll have to ask her next time." She chews on her lip, running her fingers over the seams of the monkey's ear. "I wish you could've been there."

me too

"Mom threatened to break Paul's nose if he was rude to me again." The light swirls as Dad laughs and she laughs too. "I'd kick him in the nuts too."

that's my girl

***

4.

"Stupid fucking dickhead," she spits as she slams the door, throwing her backpack onto the chair so hard it scrapes across the floor. "Fucking asshole! I'll fucking rip his head off, the fucking bastard!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tiny sparkle from the floorboards, and she stomps over to the lights, turning them on. Almost immediately, golden words swirl up.

what happened?

"Your buddy Chris fucking happened!" Rose throws herself onto the bed and punches the pillow. "He keeps treating me like I'm some—some fucking gun that only he knows how to fire and I'm fucking sick of it!"

It had been especially bad today, too. Chris apparently woke up and decided yeah, today's the day I'm gonna be a total fucking asshole for no goddamn reason. He started them out sparring, which he never does, he always has them warm up first because it's important not to strain yourself, except apparently not today when she was thrown against the fucking ground three times before she could even open her mouth long enough to say hi.

Or maybe ask what the hell crawled up his ass that morning.

And then he kept fucking looking at her like he was disappointed! Like it was her fault she wasn't expecting to be slammed up against the wall or pinned to the ground by a man fucking three times her size and then grunted at when she winced in pain because that fucking hurt, you asshole! And he kept on saying these stupid little comments that just made her angrier and angrier and then he had the gall to be like hey, you need to get a handle on your emotions like he wasn't pushing every single fucking button he knew she had!

You need to be sharper, he'd said like he had any right to try and be reasonable as he almost dislocated her fucking shoulder, emotions make you sloppy.

Yeah, well, he could try being sharper when he was being bullied for no fucking reason.

And when she'd finally screamed at him that she was done, that she didn't want to fucking do this anymore, he had the fucking audacity, the nerve to scoff and cross his arms and tell her that no, she wasn't done, she was only done when he said she was done. And yeah, she hadn't really made the decision to rush at him after that, her body did that on its own, but he literally just tossed her aside like a fucking doll and then said she wasn't leaving until she could do the fucking stupid thing he wanted her to.

She tried. She really fucking did.

But she couldn't do it.

And Chris kept refusing to help, saying he'd been training her for so long already, that he'd wash her out if she were any other recruit—to which she'd screamed that she wasn't, so why the fuck was he being like this? And he didn't fucking answer! He just told her to try it again and he kept making her angrier and angrier and she could tell Chris was getting angry too which just made hers worse because what fucking right did he have to be mad at her? What the fuck did she do to him?

It ended really badly. She'd gotten so mad she'd thrown herself at him again, not caring about proper technique or what was smart or anything, she just went for him. He grappled her, obviously, and that was supposed to be their tap-out, fight's-over thing, but she hadn't stopped. She'd scratched him and punched him and kicked him even when he growled at her to yield, and when that didn't work, she'd bit him.

Chris fucking wrenched her off of him and threw her across the room and she heard three guns click.

They'd glared at each other, Chris holding his arm like it was a fucking biohazard, and then he'd stalked off without a word while agents forcibly shoved her back to her room.

She's panting by the time she finishes, glaring a hole in the wall right below where the words normally appear. Her hands still tingle from where she'd hit the walls and the pillows. She looks up when she sees the familiar swirl.

you shouldn't have bitten him

The anger surges up her arms and she clenches her fists. "That's all you have to say? No 'I'm sorry he was such a dick, Rose?' 'You didn't deserve that?' You're fucking defending him?"

i didn't say that

"I just told you that your friend, the person you told to watch over me and keep me safe was fucking bullying me for no goddamn reason and the only thing you can say is that I shouldn't have defended myself?" Betrayal steeps vehemence into her words. Her nails bite into her palms. "I'm fucking glad I bit him!"

he's trying to help

"How in the fuck is he trying to help," she cries, "by being as bad as the bullies in school? By treating me like a freak that needs to be kept muzzled and on a leash?"

you did bite him

She picks up one of the pillows and hurls it at the wall. It hits with a pathetic thwap and falls limply to the floor. It only makes her angrier when she sees the words calm down when the lights stop shaking.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! You're supposed to be on my side!"

i am

She barks out a humorless laugh and picks up the pillow, throwing it back on the bed. "You're not on my side, you're on his. I don't need you lecturing me too. Just leave me alone."

More golden words swirl as she turns away, throwing herself onto the bed and curling up tightly around her stuffed monkey. She chokes around the lump in her throat and wills herself not to cry. She'd almost cried in front of Chris today already, she won't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her cry now. She won't, she won't, she won't! It's not fucking fair that Chris did that. It's not fucking fair that he gets to act however the fuck he wants and then she's the only one punished for it. He gets to go all over the fucking world and only see her when it's convenient to him and he gets to be an asshole about it.

Dad's not even alive.

A sob chokes out before she can stop it, and then it's too late. She's blubbering like she's a stupid fucking baby again and she can hear the echoes of their voices in her ears. All alone, poor freak Rose, crying like a baby who doesn't get her way. She's so weird, she's so stupid, she can't do it. She's useless, she's not strong enough. Just go away. No one wants you here. No one wants you. No matter how hard she presses her hands to her ears, they won't fucking shut up!

Maybe she should've fucking kept the purifying crystal. Maybe she should've left with no powers and had a normal fucking life. Maybe she should've just left her dad to—

As soon as the thought threatens to cross her mind, she recoils from it. Guilt and anger war in her gut as she nearly grows sick. How could she fucking think that? After all he'd done to save her, protect her, how could she think about something like that, even if it was in a fit of rage?

A strangled noise escapes her throat and the bruises and injuries from her humiliating 'sparring session' abruptly make themselves known. Her body screams in pain; her shoulders ache, the bruise on her ribs throbs, and her jaw feels like it's about to explode. She has the hysterical impulse to bite herself and she wonders if it would hurt more than everything else. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses a glow coming from the floorboards now and she curls up tighter, burying her face in the monkey's tummy. Fuck it, she's been called overly emotional and childish enough times already, she may as well throw her tantrum properly.

It's like falling into the Megamycete again; she has no idea how long she lies there, wallowing in her own emotional turmoil. Flashes of the bullies, of Chris's stupid fucking face, of watching herself get tossed around and left behind…even stranger things like massive castles filled with screams and horror, creepy old houses that just feel like tombs, deep water and clanking metal, all filled with whispers of freak, dangerous, stupid child, not good enough. Everything is too loud and too quiet and she just wants it to be over.

When she finally manages to rouse herself from whatever malaise she'd fallen into, the sun has long set. Her clock shows that it's close to 10—that would explain why her stomach is trying to dig a hole in her intestines. The anger fled unknown hours ago, leaving her weary and wrung out. In its absence, she no longer feels like the bioweapon that she's supposed to be, only the scared and lonely child. It's cold. She's hungry.

There's still a soft golden glow coming from over the side of the bed.

Her lip wobbles. She doesn't want to face the consequences of yelling at her dad and throwing a pillow at him, but she can't stop the blooming warmth that he didn't leave. She crawls to the edge of the bed and peeks over.

i'm sorry Rose

She sniffles and rubs her cheek on the sheets. "'M sorry too."

you were right, i should've been on your side

"You're always on my side," she mumbles, "I know you are."

still

She sniffles again and tucks the monkey under her chin. "Why was Chris so mean today? Did I do something wrong?"

i don't think so, sometimes he's just like that

"Why?" She's ignoring how much she sounds like a baby, thank you. "It's not fair."

no it's not sweetie

Rose closes her eyes, basking in the soft glow of her dad's comfort. "Was he ever mean to you when you were training?"

yeah

"What did you do?"

broke his nose once

It startles a laugh out of her. "You what? Wait, what happened?"

he was being an asshole, so i punched him

She giggles again, both at the image of Chris's surprised face with a broken nose and at the fact that her dad got so angry with Chris that he punched him hard enough. A few more golden sparkles surround the words before they change again.

you shouldn't try it though

"Aw," she complains, mostly for show, "but you did it."

do as i say not as i do

She's quiet. After a moment, she lets her arm hang down to touch the words again. They glow gently. "I don't like fighting with you."

me neither

"I'm sorry. I was being a brat."

The words swirl up quicker than she's ever seen.

you were upset at something unfair, not a being a brat

She sniffles again, reaching over to grab a hanky and blow her nose with a sharp honk. She throws it over to the laundry basket and lies back down. The words have changed.

if you need to hear it, i forgive you

"I forgive you too."

rest

She nestles up against the pillows. "Will you stay until I go to sleep?"

of course sweetie, i love you

***

5.

Mostly Rose doesn't dream. She'll close her eyes and open them again and it will be hours later and it's time to get up. Most of the time when she does dream, it's weird half-memories that aren't hers mixed with something she does actually remember. She has dreams of a house with a red chimney being taken apart by little robotic goats, or of a crocodile swimming through a swamp filled with dead crows, or of bugs crawling over test tubes and dirty flasks. Some of them make sense when she digs into the files she's not really supposed to have access to, some of them don't.

On rare, awful occasions, she has nightmares.

She's been curled up and unmoving for who knows how long, desperately trying to feign sleep. The mold in her keeps prickling like there's something else in the room, watching her, just waiting for a sign that she's awake to pounce. Her white-knuckled grip hasn't wavered either. She dares hardly breathe; even though her rational brain knows there's nothing there, there can't be anything there, her entire body is screaming. She can feel the milky sweat beginning to ooze from her palms.

Something creaks.

She goes stiff as a board.

A creak, a groan, a rumble as the air conditioning turns on and she forces herself to relax, cracking open one eye to see that yes, this is just her room, there's nothing to be afraid of here, she's fine.

Her eyes land on the switch to the fairy lights.

The small and whimpering part of her lunges for them, for the warm glow of the light, her dad's words, in lieu of running to her parents' bed to be comforted. The other part hisses that the second she moves, whatever's lurking in the dark will strike. The monkey wheezes as she tightens her grip, staring at the innocuous plastic box hanging against the wall.

With a sudden burst, she launches herself from the bed, slapping the button, and curling back up beneath the safety of the blankets.

Immediately, the soft warm light chases away the worst of the shadows and she can peek over her shoulder to assure herself that yes, nothing is there, she's safe in her room, everything's okay. Golden sparkles are already swirling, a quiet inquisitiveness filling that one empty part in her chest as she lies back down. He's rotated his words so she can read them easily.

what's the matter, sweetie?

"Nightmare," she whispers, more into her pillow than anything else.

i'm sorry

She curls up tighter, trying to pull the blankets up almost over her head. The sweat's almost ruined her monkey—she's going to have to wash it again—and she wipes her hands on the sheet. The absence of it hits the cold air and she shivers, hunching tighter in the covers and sniffling. A sudden and sharp ache sears through her chest and she shudders, harder this time, only the top of her nose peeking out over the comforter. She's so cold. Not in the way where she can pile more blankets on and it'll go away—she could put the whole world on top of her and she would still be cold. This horrible, achy, exhausting cold that seeps into her bones and makes her want to cry.

what can i do?

"You said in your—in your letter," she hiccups, "that you'd hold me when I had nightmares, and—and sing to me until I went back to sleep."

But the words on her wall are just words and words can't hold anybody.

She wants a fucking hug, goddamnit. No one touches her anymore, not unless they're running some stupid test, or sparring, or escorting her roughly down the hallway like some—some prisoner. The last time someone touched her and it wasn't that it was Mom, telling her she'd help decorate her room and that was so long ago, everyone else just—just—

"I want to go home," she sobs and it lands like a dead weight in the still room.

what do you mean?

"I want to go home, I want to go back to that house you showed—showed me when I was in there, where you—where your memories are and I can actually h-hear you and it's warm an'—an' safe, and you love me," she cries, not caring that it's the middle of the night and she's talking to a wall, "no one here loves me. No one loves me, the doctors think I'm some—some experiment that's run too—too long and the agents all think I'm a l-liability and Mom's not here because she gave me up and Chris h-hates me."

he doesn't hate you sweetie

"He does! He does, he does, I can feel it." She hugs her monkey tightly to her chest. "He h-hates me for being the reason you're not—you're not here anymore and he hates me for reminding him that you're dead and he hates me for—for being like this and—and—and—!"

shh…shh…shh…

But he's not here and she can't hear him shushing her and she's all alone in her cold, dark room and she wants to go home.

don't cry, Rosie, it's gonna be okay sweetie

"It's not. 'S not okay."

The wall doesn't move for a moment, then it swirls again.

scoot back, i'm going to try something

Frowning, she does, shuffling awkwardly back until she's on the far side of the bed. The golden light swirls around for another second, before it writes itself on one of the pillows.

hug me

"D—Michael?"

i'm right here sweetie, i love you so much

With trembling fingers, she reaches for the pillow, touching the words with a soft gasp as they glow warmly against her still-slick palms. A sob of disbelief leaves her throat and she bundles it to her chest, burying her face in it. A soft scratching and buzzing fills her ears as more words write themselves across the pillow, but she doesn't pull her face away to read them. Not when this is the closest thing to hugging her dad she's been since she was in the deepest stratum of the Megamycete, crying over his dying body. Not when she's still so cold and the words are so, so warm. She tucks her face into the crook of the pillow's embrace and she cries.

The words don't stop writing themselves over and over and if she focuses hard enough, it almost sounds like her dad is humming.

She falls into a light sleep, not willing to miss a moment of actually being so close to her dad, soothed by his presence. Soon, light has begun to break through the window, the auto timer on the lights long since activated to switch them off. The pillow is all gross from a mixture of drool, snot, and tears, and she sheepishly tries to wipe it away when a small glow comes from underneath.

it's okay

"It's kinda gross."

my privilege, i'm your dad

"Still."

ew, remember?

A watery smile. "Thanks."

i love you so much, i'm so proud of you

"I love you too," she mumbles back, curling her arms around the pillow. Another set of words writes itself and she leans back.

do you really think Chris hates you?

"I don't know. He…he looks at me like he can't sometimes. Or like he's waiting for me to…I don't know, turn crazy or bad or like he's waiting for me to turn into you, almost." She rubs her fingers over the pillowcase. "He used to be nicer."

have you spoken since?

She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about. "No. He's been out of town again. He's supposed to be back, um…"

She leans over to check her phone, eyes widening when she sees the date.

"Uh, today. Shit, I actually think we're supposed to have a training thing today."

Before more words can write themselves, there's a knock on her door. She freezes, phone still in her hand, pillow clutched close.

"Rose?" Fuck. "It's Chris. Can I come in?"

be brave, says the last flutter of words before her dad vanishes, i love you

"…yeah."

Chris opens the door. Rose tugs on her dad's jacket over her pajamas and clutches the pillow in her lap. She doesn't look at him. He moves around a little in the doorway before he shuts it with a click. After a moment, the bed dips and groans under his weight and she sneaks a glance at his arm. Her bite mark is still there.

"Surprised they let you walk around before that healed."

"You didn't even break the skin."

It's probably meant to come off in a way that means she doesn't have to worry about it, but it stings anyway. She turns away again.

A car drives by outside.

"I owe you an apology," Chris says finally, his voice low and gruff, "I shouldn't have been so harsh. I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, but she shifts to face the window instead of the wall.

"There's been talk of getting you moved to another squad," he continues, and her stomach drops—is Chris leaving too?— "and I thought…if I could prove that you were good with us, that we had it all under control, then they'd drop it. Leave you alone."

At the rustle as he shifts, she glances over at him. His jaw works and his hand twitches on his knee.

"I thought…" He trails off, then scoffs at himself, shaking his head. "I don't know what I thought."

He turns to meet her gaze and her gut clenches at the obvious guilt and remorse she can see there. She swallows.

"You were mean." Her voice comes out a lot smaller than she'd hoped. She swallows and tries again. "I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Rose," he says in a rush, turning to face her, "please don't think that."

"So you're not trying to get rid of me?"

"Shit, Rose, no, I'm not trying to get rid of you. You're—I think Mia'd kill me if I tried, no, I'm just—" he takes a breath— "I'm just trying to keep you safe, okay?"

"Then you should've said something! I would've trained harder if I knew—we could've—I would've done something else, did I do something wrong?"

"No," he insists, shaking his head, "no, you didn't do anything wrong."

Relief begins to pool warily in her chest. Her grip on the pillow loosens and she scoots a little closer. "I'm sorry I bit you."

He shakes his head again. "It's fine. You, uh, you have good bite strength."

"Good bite strength?"

"Yeah. Your contact's really good." He gestures to the bite mark on his arm. "Got all of them in there too."

"Thanks," she says, laughing a little. Chris smiles and it's a bit easier to breathe. She gives herself a shake. "So, what's today? Weapons, sparring, how to punch boulders?"

"Actually, I, uh, thought we'd go get ice cream."

Rose pauses, looking up at him, blinking as if she'd heard wrong. "Ice cream?"

"Weather's gonna get cold soon, the good place around the corner's gonna close." He shrugs. "Been craving it."

"Yeah…yeah, ice cream sounds good."

"Great."

And before she can think too much of it, she throws herself at him and hugs him for all she's worth. She feels him stutter, not quite sure what to do, and then his arms slowly wrap around her, holding her just as tightly. And oh, she's on fire, Chris is big and warm and solid and he's holding her like she's something special and she's gonna fucking cry her eyes out if she stays here a moment longer and she's gonna die if she lets go. Chris lets out a noise of dismay when she sniffles and scoops her up, like she's a little kid again, holding her in his lap and now she's making a mess of his shoulder too.

She could swear she feels Dad smile.

***

+1.

"I'm telling you," Rose says as she lounges on her bed, "you're wrong about the cover. It's actually pretty good."

i like the classics

"Yeah, well, you're old and boring, so that makes sense."

:(

The sight of the old-fashioned emoticon frowny face makes her burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that's so lame. I don't think I've seen someone use that in years."

it's a classic!

"You gotta get with the times!"

totes dope fam

Rose winces at the immense amount of psychic damage those three words dealt, her neck protesting as she almost cringes it out of alignment. "No, D—Michael, just no."

lol

She tosses the pillow playfully at the wall again, laughing when another frowny face appears on both it and the wall. "Aww, okay, I'm sorry, here."

She picks it up and cuddles it and the frowny face turns to a smiley face. Lying back down, grin still on her face, she toys with his ring. It's gotten shinier from all the rubbing, except where she ties the cord around it so she can wear it as a necklace. She turns it this way and that, watching the sunlight glint off of it. As she does, she catches sight of the engraving on the inside.

Always and forever.

"Do you want me to tell Mom and Chris about you?"

The words swirl for a moment.

up to you

She pushes herself to sit up, propped on one elbow. The ring glistens as she slides it back onto her finger, turning it to and fro. "I don't know. It feels bad keeping something like this from them, but I want to be selfish about it too, you know? I kind of like having you all to myself."

it's not selfish

"And what if Chris thinks it's bad?" She twists the ring harder. "What if he tries to take you away from me?"

i won't let that happen

Her shoulders drop a little and she picks up the pillow again, cuddling into it. A few words write themselves across it just so she can feel their warmth and she rubs her cheek against it. "Don't you miss them?"

all the time

A melancholy that isn't hers hangs in her chest and she squeezes the pillow again. "Then should I? They miss you too, you know. I think they'd be happy to, you know, hear from you again."

The words fade and the wall glows again as he thinks. She lets him have his time, rubbing the ring back and forth, listening to the slight rattle it makes as it spins around her too-small finger. When she hears the familiar soft scratch again, she looks up.

they're happy now, i don't want to ruin that

"They're not happy," she can't help but say, "they still miss you."

content, then

"You wouldn't be ruining anything," she argues, "I thought—I thought I'd never get to see you again after I got out of there. The day I heard you again? That was the happiest moment of my life."

mine too sweetie, or my un-life i guess

The words glow brighter as her fingertips glow too. She gets up and lays her hand against the wall, smiling as their powers dance together. "I really think they'd be happy."

A pulse of warmth runs up her arm to her chest as the words shift once more.

when you think the time is right

"I'll tell you, I promise."

i'm so proud of you, Rose, i love you so much

"I love you too."

That time doesn't come on their terms, though, because that would be easy. No, instead it's when she and Chris are over at Mom's house for dinner and Chris asks a question out of nowhere that almost makes her spit all over the table.

"What?" Mom asks as Rose glares a hole in Chris's stupid forehead.

"I said," Chris says like an unrepentant asshole, "who's Michael?"

"Michael?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose mutters, staring down at her lap.

"I was coming to get you for training last week and you were talking to someone called Michael." Chris takes a bite of steak and talks with his mouth full, like an asshole. "So who is he?"

Mom elbows her, winking. "Someone you like?"

"What? Ew, gross, no!"

Chris and Mom just laugh and Mom elbows her again. "Don't worry, I was your age once too. That's how I reacted when my mom asked me about my crush."

"Michael isn't my crush!"

"Boyfriend, then?"

"No, he's not my—" she covers her face and sighs. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my crush, he's not someone from school, happy?"

"So who is he?"

Well, fuck it, no time like the present. She pushes back from the table, muttering about using the bathroom. They wait until she's halfway up the stairs to start talking again, their voices low in that way where she knows they're still talking about her, but she pays them no mind as she goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. She braces her hands on either side of the sink and takes a deep breath.

"I'm guessing you heard all that."

The words swirl up right below the mirror.

yeah

"I mean, it's not like we'll get a better opportunity."

probably not

"Are you ready?"

are you?

She rubs at the chip in the linoleum and turns on the cold water, just to make sure there's no milky sweat on her hands. "I'm nervous."

me too

"No matter what happens," she says firmly, "no matter what they do or say, I'm here for you, okay? I've got your back. I love you."

i'm so proud of you, sweetie, i love you too

The words glow cheerfully against the weird tile pattern and she reaches out to touch them. They share a moment before the words fade and she takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in the mirror and nodding to herself. "Right. Let's do this."

She marches back downstairs and Mom and Chris do a horrible job of pretending not to be nosy and expectant. She sits back down and folds her hands in her lap.

"I'll tell you who Michael is," she begins, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else."

"I promise, honey," Mom says, miming zipping her lips shut.

"Chris, you promise too."

Chris looks at her for a moment like he's going to disagree, then he winces as Mom kicks him under the table. "I promise too."

"Good." She takes another breath and reaches for the ring around her neck. The second she brings it out from under her shirt, Chris's silverware clatters against the plate and Mom inhales sharply.

"Rose," she says shakily, "where did you get that?"

"Before I said yes to joining you," Rose says, "I met K outside the lab. He told me there might be a way to get rid of my powers for good."

Chris frowns. "K never said anything like that to me, what do you—"

"I'm getting there. He took me to the lab where there was a piece of the Megamycete, and said that—"

"He what?"

"Will you both just listen to me?" The two of them quiet down. "Thank you. So, like I was saying, he took me to see the piece of it and said that there was a purifying crystal that Miranda discovered that could take the mold out of someone. All I had to do was look through the Megamycete's index of consciousness to see if I could find it."

"That's incredibly dangerous, Rose," Mom says quietly, and Chris looks like he's trying to strangle his fork. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"I wanted them gone," she interrupts, looking at her Mom, "they were—I was just a freak with no friends. Someone offered me the chance to be normal, are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were a teenager?"

Mom looks at her for a long moment, but she doesn't disagree. Rose squeezes the ring and keeps going.

"It wasn't that easy, obviously. It was…really hard. And really scary. I had to fight my way through these, like, twisted versions of the places in Miranda's village, like that big castle and the creepy doll house, and there were all these versions of me that kept getting killed and tortured, I fought a version of Eveline too—"

"Rose," Chris tries to say but she doesn't let him.

"—but I had help," she continues. "There was something helping me. It helped me figure out where to go, what to do, gave me a gun and taught me how to use it. There were these glowing words that would appear when I needed them most and it…it was like having a guardian angel."

"Michael," Chris says, and she nods.

"Yeah, I called him Michael. He—he kept trying to get me to leave, said that it wasn't safe, but I wanted to find the crystal and so he helped me. And then we found out K wasn't actually K and it was all a trap set by Miranda—"

"It was what?"

Chris is already getting up. "Is she still in there? Do we need to—"

"Sit down, Chris, it's fine, we beat her. She's dead now, like, really, actually dead. She crystalized and turned to dust, I saw it."

His face still looks like he ate a lemon, but Chris sits slowly back down. He exchanges a worried look with Mom and she puts her hand on Rose's shoulder. "You said 'we?'"

"Me and Michael." She looks down at the ring and turns it over in her hand. "Until I found out who he really was."

Mom gasps, a small and shuddery thing. She holds her hand over her mouth and stares at Rose. "Ethan."

Chris makes a noise too as Rose nods. "Yeah. It was him the whole time. He…he protected me. From Miranda, from Eveline, from everything."

"He loved you so much, honey," Mom whispers, her eyes growing wet, "he never stopped loving you."

"He showed me our house in Romania," and to her horror, she can feel her voice growing thick too, "with all his memories. I heard his voice, Mom, he—he wrote me a letter, did you know?"

"Yes," Mom says, trying not to sob, clutching her shoulder, "yeah, honey, I know. He cried so much while he was writing it, he wanted you to get old enough to read it with him, oh, Rose…"

She swipes a hand under her nose and turns to Chris, who's doing that big, tough, I'm-too-manly-for-my-emotions-right-now thing and reaches for him too. After a moment, his hand turns and covers hers. He's trembling. "He taught me how to fight, Chris. We—we fought together. He shot the monsters in the face with a shotgun and gave me his power so I could kill Miranda, once and for all."

Chris swallows heavily. "Your dad was…he was one of the best men I've ever known, Rosie. He would be so proud of you." He sniffs. "You said he shot them in the face with a shotgun?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ethan, alright." Mom laughs and it sort of sounds like a sob but she and Chris are smiling now, so it's okay. Chris looks back at her and nods a few times. "So you were talking to him, then?"

"Yeah. When you walked by on Tuesday, I think it was…yeah, we were arguing about whether the original Blade Runner was better than 2049." She wrinkles her nose. "He said the original was better but I like the remake."

Chris frowns. "What do you mean, he said—"

The words scrawl over Mom's dining table, illuminating their faces.

i like the classics, that's all

Rose would laugh at the way Chris almost falls out of his chair if his hand and Mom's weren't trembling. She looks at Mom, who stares at the glowing words, and at Chris, who looks like he's about to be sick.

Mom breaks the silence first. "…Ethan?"

The words move, now right next to her forgotten plate.

hi honey

"You're—you're—"

bad at staying dead?

Mom's breath leaves her like she's been punched in the gut. "Oh, Ethan, I—I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

breathe, it's okay

She squeezes Mom's hand as she takes a few shaky breaths. "What—how is this possible?"

rose

"We're both part of the mold," Rose says when Mom looks to her, "he's…he's using my part right now, we're sort of sharing it."

told her i'm not a scientist, figured you'd get it :)

"No one uses those anymore," Mom mumbles and Rose whispers a quiet told you so! as the smiley turns to a frowny for a moment, before the words change again.

i know it's been hard, i'll always love you

"Oh, Ethan," Mom whispers, reaching out to touch the words. She gasps as a flicker of warmth pulses through them and Rose squeezes her hand again. "I miss you."

i miss you too

Another glow flickers up next to Chris, who startles and stares down at the words in shock.

you too

"E-Ethan, I—" he cuts himself off as the words swirl again.

thank you for taking care of my daughter

Chris swallows heavily. "She's incredible, Ethan. You should be proud of her."

always am

"I'm sorry," Chris whispers, and something in Rose's gut clenches at how close to tears he looks too, "if I'd been faster, we could've gotten you out of there, we could've…"

it's okay, Chris, we're all okay

"You're dead."

i died in 2017, doing pretty well considering

"He is really bad at staying dead," Rose adds, "Miranda said so too. You should've seen her, she was so mad at us."

Chris looks like he's having a hard time deciding whether he wants to laugh or cry. The sparkles swirl again.

she's a fighter, she gets that from you too

His free hand jerks and Rose squeezes the one in hers. "You can touch, Chris, he won't bite. That's my thing."

it won't hurt, promise

Chris takes a deep breath and slowly touches the words. His breath leaves him in a rush as they glow warmly under his fingers. Rose smiles as she feels the mold connect all of them there, in that moment, through her and Ethan. Some part of her clicks into place. As if he can feel it too, which he probably can, another set of words appears in front of her.

we're so proud of you, Rosie

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles as she feels heat rush to her cheeks, "shut up."

no :)

Mom laughs. "We finally have all three of us together again and you want us to not tell you how proud we are of you?"

"They've got a point, Rosie."

"I'll break your nose!"

"No, no," Mom says as Chris squawks, even though she's still smiling, "no breaking Chris's nose."

even if he deserves it

"Hey!"

As they all laugh together, Ethan's words still glowing in the warm, quiet house, Rose sits back in her chair and twists her dad's ring around her finger. Sure, being a mold bioweapon teenager was weird, but if this is the family she gets to have because of it, it can't be all bad.

[midgardianleaf]

"The unbearable sorrow in our stars."

Your life is normal. Normally shitty.But the death of your parents sets off a chain of events that turns your entire world upside down.

And amidst all the horror, the tears, and the fear, you find something you never expected. Your true self.

The woman he'd die for. The woman he wants to live for.

Pairing : Sam Winchester x fem! OC

Warnings : Mention of Death and Wounds, Mention of Blood, Fear, Depression

Their bodies were discovered late in the evening. Whether it was because it was unbearably hot at that time of year or because people didn't care what happened to people like us, I don't know. I only know that they no longer looked like my parents when the coroner unzipped the white body bag. That woman was not my mother. She had her dark brown hair and the same unruly curls. The mole on her chin was also the same.

But the huge, still bloody red wound in her chest wasn’t right, nor was the fact that her heart was missing. It shouldn’t be. She should now be wearing her smart business clothes and handling my dad's bookkeeping.

Now they lay here side by side. And if they had been covered up, just enough so that only their heads were visible, the scene would have been more peaceful than it had been for a long time.

I nodded. Words were too heavy and felt uncomfortable in my mouth. Everything hurt. The bright light. The sterile, white surroundings. The coroner’s voice. The smell. My entire body begged to flee. Far away. Just disappear.

"My deepest condolences." The coroner's hand on my shoulder. Cold and heavy.

I nodded. And then I left. No words of thanks or farewell. They would have been empty words.

Outside, it was still warm despite the late hour. T-shirt weather. Weather for chocolate ice cream and lemonade. Weather for meeting friends in the park and talking late into the night.

It felt as if the surroundings had drained all the warmth from my body, leaving only cold, clammy despair behind.

I slipped my hand into my pocket. There it was. Small, rectangular. With a tiny crease at the top left corner.

I pulled it out.

Vale Carson. His name. Embossed in small golden letters.

Below it, a phone number. And a note. Small and hastily written.

"You can always reach out to me, Lor."

I stare at my uncle's business card, as if it could tell me what to do next.

I stare at it until my eyes burn and the letters start to blur and dance before my eyes.

It’s almost funny how the whole world, including yourself, believes you know everything just because you’re over 18.

I sigh, slip the card back into my pocket, and start walking. I don't know where I’m going; I have no destination or home. So, I let myself drift. I let myself drift among countless lost souls.

Without really realizing it, I suddenly find myself back in the park.

I pull out my phone and stare at the display. 2:11 a.m.

It could have been a beautiful night, I think, as I let my gaze drift up to the sky.

“Please, whoever might be up there. Please let me understand all this. Let me find some meaning in it.” My voice is barely more than a whisper.

Soft and shaky. Desperate.

The stars are still shining. Just like always. Nothing has changed for them. Their world keeps turning, while mine was completely upended and shattered in just a few hours.

The cool wood of the bench is a welcome contrast to my heated body.

I used to love being here. I used to be happy here.

I used to be healthy.

Now I’m lying here, using my backpack as a pillow, staring at the stars. I wonder where Mom and Dad are now. Are they okay? Are they happy?

Happiness has always been complicated in my family. Mom and Dad hadn’t been happy together for a long time. Dad was absorbed in his work, often away from home for long periods. During that time, Mom took care of me. She managed everything. It was a good time. When I got older, Mom started working with Dad. At first, she was home every evening, then only every third, and eventually only sporadically.

The only company I had was my books. I found my home between the lines; I fell in love and mourned there. I traveled through worlds and times, but gradually lost touch with my parents. By the time I turned 18, I hadn’t seen Mom in three weeks and Dad in two months.

Rustling. Footsteps. Voices.

It took my brain a moment to process what was happening. I was still lying on the bench. My backpack was still my pillow, and the stars were still silently shining down on me. Only the noises were new. A bright beam of light flickered across the park. I held my breath, clutched my backpack to my chest, and tried to make myself as small as possible.

My heart pounded loudly. Betrayingly loud. The beam of light swept across the park again. Footsteps and voices grew closer.

"Please don't let me die," I silently pleaded to the stars.

I knew they had found me even before the flashlight beam reached me. I knew I should probably have run or hidden, but the fear weighed heavily on my chest, pressing me down with its sharp claws. It seeped through every pore, stealing the air from my lungs.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see who they were or what would happen next. If I die, I want my last sight to be of countless sparkling stars.

One thing I will remember until my last breath is their eyes.

One was green, like a summer morning in the forest, and the other were a mesmerizing blend of green and gold, like the shimmering leaves of a hazel tree in autumn sunlight.

Those breathtakingly beautiful eyes belonged to two young men standing in front of me, dressed in sharp black suits.

“Hello. Are you Loreley Carson?”

I nodded, staring into the beam of their flashlight like a deer caught in headlights.

“Agent Simmons and Agent Rose,” said the shorter one with forest-green eyes.

“First of all, our deepest condolences for the loss of your parents,” Agent Simmons continued.

“Thank you,” I replied, followed by, “What do you want?”

The fear retreats like a wounded beast, deep into my chest, nesting there and sinking its teeth in.

“We want to bring whoever did this to justice!”

Agent Rose’s gaze remains unbroken on me, sending waves of discomfort through my entire body.

I feel as if my heart is about to burst. My body is no longer enough to contain me. I feel trapped by myself and by the whole world. It’s all too much.

So, I run. I run as far and as fast as my legs will carry me. I leave my backpack behind. I leave my life behind. I leave the ‘before’ behind. I leave Loreley Carson behind.

The worst thing about fear is that it can control you. It takes over your body and mind. It pushes your true self aside, filling you completely, consuming you entirely.

The blue door is new. The countless flower pots on the porch are new.

I knock. Once. Twice.

Then a sleepy figure appears at the door, opening it hesitantly.

“I really hope someone’s bleeding out, because otherwise, you can just—”

A sudden pause. His eyes show recognition, then confusion.

“Loreley,” he says the name as if he hasn’t spoken it in ages, testing how it feels in his mouth.

“What are you doing here? Where are your parents?”

I just hug him. I don’t have the words to explain what happened, and I don’t have the strength to search for them. He wraps his arms around me. He understands.

He doesn’t ask questions. Not that night and not in the nights that follow. He’s just there..

The following days were spent in a haze of tears and exhaustion. My mind felt like an unreal place, with my thoughts in utter disarray. And again and again, I saw her. Saw the wounds and the blood.

Images that seemed to have etched themselves into my memory forever.

By the third day, I was still drowning in self-pity and tears. The food my uncle brought to my bedside remained untouched, only to be replaced again.

On the fifth day, a dull and heavy feeling settled within me, pulling me down. All my tears had dried up, leaving only emptiness behind. I stared at the ceiling as I had once stared at the sky. I missed the stars. I missed the deep blue of the sky and its vast, endless expanse.

Suddenly, the walls seemed to close in, threatening to suffocate me. All the air drained from my lungs.

I jumped up. Bedroom, hallway, entrance, front yard.

The cool air gently touched my face. Inhale. Exhale.

I was outside. And for the briefest moment, the world seemed a little less awful.

"No matter what anyone says, it never gets easier, no matter how much time passes."

The voice came out of nowhere, freezing me in place.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry!"

"Agent Rose?" I asked into the darkness.

"Yes, that’s right." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I know this is hard, but we need to know everything that might help us find the perpetrator. Did you notice anything unusual? Strange people, sounds, or smells?"

Resigned, I let my shoulders drop and fiddled with the hem of my shirt. "Well, I wasn’t there. I didn’t find her. I just know it wasn’t supposed to happen this way..." Tears burned behind my eyelids, begging to be released. "...And it hurts. It hurts so much, and this pain is so unreal and overwhelming that I completely lose my sense of direction!"

There was a dead silence. Only the muffled sounds of the city joined the treacherously loud pounding of my heart.

"If anything else comes to mind..." he handed me a small, white card, "please don't hesitate to reach out. Anytime!"

Another business card. This one was much simpler—black letters on a white background. No embellishments. No frills.

"Thank you," I said. And for the first time in a long while, my smile was genuine.

I hope you enjoyed it, even a little bit. Sorry, if it's very bad. English is not my native language.

💚💚

[somethingqueerisgoingonhere]

“Come on, your little campaign has gone on long enough, I have to be somewhere later tonight,” Steve said grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his arm.

“Yeah Eddie’s,” Dustin crooned.

Steve grabbed Dustin by the collar and yanked him up from his seat, “come on chuckle heads your chaperone is leaving in 1, 2...”

“Fine!” Dustin shouted, shaking Steve off of him and starting to collect his stuff.

Lucas and Will began to follow suit but Mike leaned over towards Will.

“Hey,” he said and watched in pure agony as those long lashes flicked up so his eyes could meet Mike’s.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to stay over? It’s been like an eternity and I have this new campaign I’m working on and I was wondering-”

“What we’re not invited?” Dustin said feigning hurt. 

“Of course not,” Lucas said, getting up from his seat, “they’ve always been like this.”

Mike frowned, “Like what?”

Lucas rolled his eyes and grabbed Dustin by his backpack, dragging him along.

“Tick tock Byers, if you want that ride home,” Steve called as he began ascending the staircase.

“Uh, thanks Steve but I think I’ll stay,” Will called back and Mike smiled.

-

Mike tried to pay attention, he really did, as Will sat next to him going over his next campaign with him, but it was not easy.

They’d already showered and Will’s hair was curling slightly from being damp. He also got this cute look on his face when he was focusing. And to add insult to injury, he was wearing Mike’s pj’s. That’s weird right? To think that’s attractive? But it was. And he looked so small in his T-shirt, and for some reason-

“Mike?” Will brought him out of his staring.

“Yeah?” 

“You’re not even paying attention,” he was frowning.

Mike shrugged, “probably just tired.”

Will nodded and began shuffling papers together, “let’s go to bed then.”

Let’s go to bed then.

Were there any more torturous words in the english language than let’s go to bed then?

Mike got up from the table and began laying out Will’s sleeping bag. And if he placed it right up against the couch where he’d be sleeping well no one had to know.

Mike climbed onto the couch while Will got situated in his sleeping bag. There was a lot of shuffling as he got comfortable but once he did, he let out a sigh. And no that sigh did not do things to Mike.

Mike stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about Will laying right next to him. 

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come down here?”

“What?” Mike asked in shock, sitting up embarrassingly fast.

“I-nothing, it was stupid-”

“No, no, no, not at all. It’s just like when we used to have sleepovers as kids.” And Mike rushed to grab a blanket, lying it down next to Will’s sleeping bag and chucking a pillow down.

He laid down and tired not to move an inch. Was he too close? He felt like there were miles between them. But he didn’t want to make Will uncomfortable, god that would be the worst thing in the world. And if he- What?

Mike looked down at his fingers where they rested at his side, where Will’s met his tentatively. Mike didn’t need another sign from the universe, he slid his hand over Will’s.

Will sighed. And again it did nothing to Mike, no not at all.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Are you kidding?” Mike asked incredulously, turning his head to look over at Will in the darkness. Big mistake. Will was looking at him with those big eyes, they looked nervous and hopeful and there were a thousand emotions swirling in them and Mike could get lost in them forever. 

Will shrugged, making their hands jostle, Mike took the opportunity to thread their fingers together. Speaking of threads he was hanging on by one. 

“It’s totally reasonable for me to assume that.”

“It’s really not, have you looked at yourself?”

Will rolled his eyes, “have you looked at yourself?”

Mike frowned, “I’m nothing special.”

Will rolled his eyes again and Mike fought a smile.

Will sounded genuinely annoyed, “You do realize what you look like right?”

Mike’s smile grew, “What are you saying exactly Byers?”

Will turned over towards Mike, “you’re insufferable.”

They shared a smile. Will’s small hand squeezed Mike’s gently. And it said everything Mike needed to know.

[primewritessmut]

24 - REIGN

“You’re late.” I ignore my boss as I squeeze around him and into the break room, yanking open a locker to shove my jacket and backpack inside. “The bar is slammed and you’re fucking late.”

I could tell him that I had the strangest dream last night. That I woke up with the electric copper taste of pennies on my tongue. That I had to dig to the back of my closet for a long sleeve shirt that fit dress code and glove to match.

I could tell him that I don’t remember why I need to dress that way or how I got here, that something feels off, wrong, but things always feel off. Like I’m a little more left of center than the rest of the world, spread thin and slid between the cracks of space and time.

But that sounds maudlin and off-putting.

And also, I know he doesn’t give a shit.

He just wants me to do my terrible, minimum wage job so the nepo babies in their thirty thousand dollar watches don’t have to suffer through a lukewarm drink.

I slink past him toward where the five-gallon bucket is tucked into the corner next to the ice machine. It clatters as I approach it, fresh ice dropping into the bottom compartment. The promise of tediousness and monotony pulls at me. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember my dream. I don’t want to taste the rich, bright flavor on my tongue.

“Don’t fucking ignore me,” he barks, his big hand clamping onto my upper arm like a vice and yanking me back from the handle of the bucket. “Just because we gave some freak a pity job doesn’t mean you don’t have to work like the rest of us.”

His thick sausage fingers dig painfully into the meat of my bicep and I just wish he would stop fucking touching me.

Every humming fluorescent light in the break room pops at once, plunging the space into pitch black nothingness.

I blink in the sudden darkness and realize that I can see.

He’s pinned against the wall, toes scraping the floor and eyes bulging at the pressure the thing around his neck. Long fingers. Mottled black skin fitted tight to bone. Talons like a bird of prey dimpling the skin of his neck.

I blink and he whimpers.

The shadows rise, coiling and curling around us, wrapping up my arms and prying at his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Trying to find a place to grab hold. Enough leverage to pull him apart.

I blink and lean forward.

He flinches but he can’t pull himself far enough away to avoid the words that hiss into his ear for every corner of the room.

“Look at you.” The words are somehow sibilant even without a single S. “A tiny little man, reigning over a useless little kingdom, just to feel something. I can make you feel something.”

I blink and his mouth opens wide.

Then wider and wider, the shadows hooking eager tendrils over his bottom teeth and pulling down, down, down until the edges of his mouth start to tear, turning his trembling, begging lips into something huge and leering.

I blink and a scream gurgles in the back of his throat.

The talons piercing the dimpling flesh as his tongue lolls out of his mouth at an angle, unused to all the extra space, his thick, sausage fingers scrabbling at the desiccated flesh of the arm attached to those claws.

I blink and bolt upright in bed.

My mouth is still filled with a coating of metal and salt, sticking to my teeth and my tongue and my memory. I flop back onto my too-flat pillow and scrub my hands down my face ignoring the way that one of them scrapes roughly across my jaw.

I haven’t called my psychiatrist for an emergency session in four years but I roll to my side and start patting the bedside table for my phone anyway.

23 - WARD || 25 - VESSEL

[eflen-n-reegee]

In a Cabin in the Woods

(Alternate title: Eflen writes the most self-indulgent self-insert fic for her birthday. XD)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up slowly, curling deeper into my pillow. I can feel a breeze against my face, and I can smell wet grass and flowers. That is what reminds me, and I grin wide, sitting up. The view out the window is unfamiliar; it was too dark when we arrived to see much. Now I can see trees and birds and, in the distance, a pond.

I jump out of bed and run to the kitchen. Monroe is already there, and he turns to smile at me. “Hey, birthday girl! How’d you sleep?”

“Good!” I say, bouncing on my toes. “How ‘bout you?”

“Great. It’s a pretty nice place, huh?”

“Yeah!” I pause, then hug him. “Thanks, again. This is really cool.”

Monroe smiles and kisses my forehead. “Anything for you, kiddo. Now, I’m thinking pancakes and eggs for breakfast, how’s that sound?”

“Yes please!”

“Alright. It’s gonna take a little bit, so why don’t you go outside and do some hunting for me?”

I grin and run back to my room - or at least, the room I’m staying in. The cabin is a rental, perfect for a week-long vacation. I open my backpack, grab my bug jar, and hurry back through the kitchen.

I slip on my shoes and rush outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. It’s a very warm and sunny day, but there’s a consistent breeze that keeps it from being too hot - my favorite weather. I start to creep across the grass, scanning the ground for interesting bugs and mumbling to myself. “The mighty hunter stalks through the forest, searching for her prey…”

After a few minutes I spot a grasshopper, the large kind with wings. I fall into a crouch, tiptoeing towards the insect. As expected, it senses my presence and flutters a short distance away, but I am close behind. It hops off again and I continue my chase - and then I freeze. There’s something else on the ground, something even better. I carefully scoop it up, giggling as it wiggles in my hand. The grasshopper makes its final escape as I start back towards the cabin, walking slowly so I won’t injure the creature inside my jar.

When I am almost to the deck, Monroe opens the front door. “What’d you catch, kiddo?”

I run the last few steps and hold out my container for him to inspect. Inside is the biggest, roundest, bumpiest toad I’ve ever caught. “Isn’t he cool?!”

“Oh, so cool. But we’re gonna have to let him go soon, okay?

“Can I hold him first? Please?”

Monroe opens the jar and hands the toad to me. “Just for a minute, baby.”

The toad settles into my palm and I rub its back with one finger. It blinks at me and tries to bite my thumb. Monroe snaps a picture with his phone, then pats my shoulder. “Time to let him go, okay?”

“Okay,” I sigh, slowly stepping off the deck and setting the toad in the grass. It crawls off my hand and hops slowly away. “Bye, toad.” I turn back to Monroe and smile. “Is it time for breakfast?”

“Sure is. C’mon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After breakfast we put on our swimsuits and head down to the pond. I wiggle impatiently while Monroe helps me put on sunscreen. “It’s groooss.”

“Better than getting burned, kid,” he says with a smile. “Now, remember - don’t swim out too far, okay?”

I grin and nod. He knows I’m going to swim all the way out to the buoys, and he also knows how much I like to disobey instructions.

He ruffles my hair and falls into a crouch. “Race you to the water - ready set go!”

Monroe starts running and I hurry after, my feet slipping in the warm sand. We splash into the water, cool but not too cold, and I immediately dive down. In the distance I can see a school of fish heading away from us, and I paddled after them. I come up for air and then dive again, but the fish have already vanished. I shrug it off and start hunting for snail shells in the sand.

We’re at the pond for hours, splashing and diving and racing, and then we dry off and head back to the cabin.

Monroe points to the hammock on the deck and pats my back. “Do you want to hang out there until lunch?”

I grin and run over, scrambling into the hammock. It’s the fabric kind, and the sides curl in towards me, almost closing out the sky. I can hear birds singing nearby, and the wind rustling through the trees, and the occasional sunbeam falls right on my face. I stretch, and then curl into a ball and close my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I eventually wake up, stretching out and feeling the fabric of the hammock brush against my arms. I crawl out and onto the deck. Monroe is sitting on nearby on a camp chair, flipping through a book.

“Hey, sweetie. Have a good nap?”

I hum in affirmation, rubbing my eyes.

“Are you not in the mood the talk?”

I nod, sitting on the deck and resting my head on my knee.

Monroe gently strokes my hair. “You missed lunch, baby. Are you hungry?”

I shrug and point to his book.

“You want me to read a little for you?”

I nod.

“Okay… How ‘bout a chapter to wake you up, and then I’ll start dinner?”

I hum in agreement and shut my eyes.

Monroe continues to stroke my hair as he flips back to the start of the book and starts reading. “ ‘There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb…’ ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Monroe has finished reading, I’m feeling more like myself; and by the time he finishes cooking dinner, I’m wide awake and bouncing around the kitchen. “Cool your jets, kid, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Am not-” My argument is spoiled when I bump into the table, but I stamp my foot. “Didn’t hurt!”

“Ah, ‘course not, you’re too strong.” Monroe kisses my forehead and sets a plate on the table. “Now, ready for mac and cheese?”

“Yes please!” I exclaim, sitting down and grabbing my fork.

Monroe sets a glass of ice water in front of me and then takes a seat. “There’s plenty left, so eat up.”

I obediently take a bite. It’s hot, and Monroe’s used several different cheeses so the flavor is amazing. I kick my feet cheerfully as I eat, and we chat about things we want to do over the coming week.

By the time dinner is over, I feel full and warm and drowsy. I help Monroe with the dishes and then he turns to me.

“So, do you want to have an early night, or…?”

I immediately perk up. “Campfire!”

Monroe laughs. “Alright then. Let’s get it started!”

We head outside. There’s still a hint of orange above the pond, but the sky is mostly purple and navy and specks of starlight. Monroe grabs the camping chairs and brings them to the fire pit. There’s already wood and a lighter, and he soon starts a fire. I watch in delight as the slim orange flames creep up into the air, casting shadows around us.

“It’s gonna take a while before we can toast marshmallows-”

I can’t resist a clap of excitement, and Monroe laughs. “What, you thought we weren’t gonna make s’mores? What’s the point of a fire without s’mores?”

I laugh. “Yeah.”

“But anyway, we could read something, or we could watch a movie on the iPad. What do you think?”

“Can we watch Inside Out?”

“Whatever you want, kiddo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We sit side-by-side, watching the movie and occasionally pausing it to admire the fire. Once the credits have finished, Monroe heads inside and comes back with a plastic bag. “Ready?”

I grin and bounce my legs. “Yeah!”

He helps my skewer a marshmallow and shows me where to hold it. I watch excitedly as the white turns gold and then brown. I pull it back and Monroe helps me make a s’more. It’s sticky in my hands, but I don’t mind. Monroe sings Happy Birthday while we wait for it to cool, and then I take a bite. It’s hot and messy and delicious.

I finish it quickly, and Monroe helps me make another. “Just two, okay? Don’t want you getting sick.”

So he says, but I know he notices when I sneak a few marshmallows into my mouth.

We sit in silence for a while, watching the sparks from the fire rise into the air. I settle back in my chair and feel my eyes start to close. “C’n I sleep on th’ hammock?” I mumble.

Monroe chuckles. “No, sweetheart, you have to sleep inside. Are you ready for bed?”

I whine, but slowly get to my feet. Monroe leans against me, gently leading me into the cabin. The lights seem too bright after being outside and I whine again.

“I know, kiddo, I know.”

Monroe helps me get ready for bed and then tucks me in. “Comfy?”

I hum in agreement and curl into a ball. I’m already almost asleep, but I still feel the kiss he presses on my forehead.

“Sleep tight, baby.”

[heroeslogic-moved]

OUTNUMBERED: 11 TO 2

word count :  2,515 words

trigger warnings : none

setting : 2016 ( captain america : civil war )

canon divergence : this is my writing and i’ve taken a few creative liberties (and also renata and alice are still together in this, it conflicts with some of my own canon on this blog but the cute girlfriends being soft is too precious to take out and honestly we could all benefit from it.)

note : you are under no obligation to read these oneshots in order to rp with alice. they are simply backstory which i wrote prior to moving alice to tumblr and i’d like to have them available to read so my hard work didn’t go to waste.

this one shot belongs to me, it was written by me. do not reblog. do not repost elsewhere. alice gallagher, the delinquent task force and associated ocs belong to me.

“hey cap, any reason why you have a van full of kids?” the archer leaned back on the hood of the car and watched as ten teenagers piled out of the van and into the parking lot of a motel 6 about forty minutes outside of boston.

the kids looked mildly annoyed but they didn’t seem unhappy. one of them, a dark haired twenty year old pulled earbuds from his ears and looked over at steve with a groan. “if i hear your weird swing/jazz playlist for another hour i think i’ll sign those damn accords.”

clint shook his head, chuckling. “you really tortured these kids, huh?  is it part of their training?”

“we’ve already been through the torture course, this is just the two dollar guac on the side.” alice stepped out of the van and began twisting her hair into a messy bun on top of her head to help her cope with the early summer heat. once done with her mane of tangled curls, she rested her head on her girlfriend renata’s shoulder.

the soldier shook his head at the clint’s comment. “you get the rooms?” he looked exhausted. ferrying the delinquents from their base on long island all the way here had been a hassle. everyone was on the lookout for them and they needed to stay below the radar. however, he knew that it wasn’t only s.h.i.e.l.d. that was after these kids. they were trained spies, soldiers and scientists. combined they proved a real asset to anyone who had them, even separate they could be used and manipulated easily. just because their criminal records had been wiped clean when they joined s.h.i.e.l.d. didn’t mean those who these kids had pissed off had forgiven them. now that the information about the delinquent project had been leaked along with much of s.h.i.e.l.d.’s data, they were once again in danger. steve knew they were strong. they’d been put through rigorous training, but they still needed to be protected now that the majority of the team had refused to sign the sokovia accords.

clint reached into the car through the front window and pulled out a manilla envelope full of keys and placed it on the hood. “did i ever ask why you asked me to get you enough hotel rooms for us and ten teenagers?”

he shook his head and chuckled. “ask them yourself, barton.” the delinquent project had been highly classified within s.h.i.e.l.d. his silence on the matter was only out of habit. steve began sorting through the keys. the rooms were all on the first floor just like he’d asked, with easy street access if they needed to leave fast.

clint crossed his arms over his chest and faced the kids who were milling about talking amongst themselves with their belongings in backpacks and duffle bags. “alright then, hey guys!” he drew their attention to him while steve tossed keys to every other delinquent. “who’s hungry?” he couldn’t help but feel his stomach growling. he’d been snacking the entire car ride up here with bucky and he was still hungry.

bucky emerged from the back seat of the black jeep rubbing sleep from his eyes. he tossed the sweatshirt he had been using for a pillow back into the car before shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it next to clint. “how are you still hungry all i could hear the entire way here was your crunching.”

clint had drawn their attention, but when the other man left the car their attention was trained on him. they had all heard about him, the man who the avenger who’d driven them here had risked his life for. a man they had been supposed to see as a threat. they knew what s.h.i.e.l.d. told them about sergeant barnes, none of them had ever met the man himself. they all fell silent.

“captain?” renata looked to their chaperone for guidance, intertwining her fingers with alice’s nervously.

alice responded by squeezing her hand gently, assuring her that she trusted steve. if the man formerly known as the winter soldier was included in their stay at the fugitive hotel then she trusted him too.

“he’s with us, agent. helping keep you guys safe.” steve finished handing out the keys and stood next to bucky.

“that’s an agent? you didn’t tell me we’d be babysitting.” bucky squinted, drawing his brow together as he looked them over. they clearly had their little groups, a few tired looking kids leaning back against the van. they almost looked like adults.

“shit, man, we’re not that young.” one of the older delinquents, collins frowned at the man’s comment about babysitting. he looked to his left and met sydney’s eyes, shaking his head as if to say ’is this for real?’

sydney only laughed and turned to the archer. “you said something about food, can we get back to that? i haven’t eaten in hours!”

“i like the way you think!” clint turned to steve. “there’s a burger king across the street, sound good to you?”

“that’ll do!” steve nodded and looked in the direction of the group and then back to clint. “you take up the rear and buck an i’ll be up front. sound good?”

alice scoffed and started walking towards the burger king, leading the others to follow. she looked back to see a somewhat stunned former avenger. “we’re not kindergarteners and we’re not in the field either, we can cross a street without holding hands.”

“says you!” a boy with a head full of light brown curls quickly caught up with alice and renata, jokingly prodding alice and gesturing to their still joined hands.

“shut it, dev! i saw you and jess cuddled up in the backseat watching parks and rec, which we all know is what really brings the sparks.  i don’t really think you have any room to talk!” alice tightened her grip on her girlfriend’s hand and pointedly leaned up to kiss her cheek.

“car.” bucky waited for one of the three up front to notice the fact that the light had changed and cars were now streaming past them. “car!” he exclaimed a little louder until the brunette girl in the middle, the one who’s name he had yet to catch stopped them both from walking into the street. “yeah, this definitely isn’t babysitting.” he could only groan. sure, he got why steve had to keep them out of harm’s way, but he thought they’d be different. well, actually this was exactly how he’d expected this to go. they were young adults acting like young adults.

renata looked back and sent bucky a soft smile. “thanks.” she mumbled before turning back to alice and devon to chastise them for not paying attention despite the fact that she hadn’t noticed the light change either.

when the light changed again, the task force and their trailing adults made it to the fast food chain they piled into the restaurant and took up six tables while steve collected their orders.

the delinquents had fallen back into their chatting, quickly pulling clint into their midst. it started out awkward, many of them trying to figure out what they could and couldn’t get away with saying around two avengers, but they soon realized that clint simply did not give a shit. someone pointed out that the restaurant had one of those plastic play structures with slides and tubes to climb in that somewhat resembled a plastic hamster cage. this started a lively discussion about how many of them could still fit inside the tubes and whether it would break. the discussion became an argument and drew the attention of the manager, threatening them all with the prospect of being removed from the restaurant if they went anywhere near the play structure and pointing out the sign that clearly banned anyone under the age of ten from going inside.

“buzzkill!” devon exclaimed as the manager left, causing alice to stand on the plastic booth she had been sitting on step over renata and sydney’s laps to reach him and land him a generally harmless sock on the shoulder.

alice had taken on the role as the team’s leader shortly before s.h.i.e.l.d.’s fall from grace and they became fugitives. she wasn’t the strongest, she never had any cool powers and she wasn’t even the most physically imposing. collins easily filled all those requirements and many of the other task force members did as well, however what she lacked in those areas she made up for with a sense of responsibility to her team who had become her family. the stress of being a fugitive and the possibility that her sister, her blood could be in danger because of all this weighed heavy on her. “hush, dev!” she reprimanded, and then in a quieter tone as she climbed off the booth she said “can we at least get our food before the cops get called on us. i’d really like to get a full night’s sleep tonight instead of being sandwiched between renata and sebastian in the van and waking up every time we try and avoid a pot hole.”

“hey i thought you liked using ren and i as pillows!” sebastian, the dark haired boy from earlier, broke out of his conversation about the chances of them making a pit stop at an amusement park to feign offense at alice’s statement.

alice rolled her eyes and started walking back over to where she had been sitting when devon stopped her.

“i’ll try to get the guys to tone it down so we don’t get the cops called on us” he assured her.

“thanks” alice smiled, walking over to the counter to help steve and bucky with the trays of burgers, fries, chicken nuggets, two salads and empty soda cups. she looked to the two adults at her sides, for a second feeling dwarfed by them and how legendary they were. her hesitation caught their attention as she had unknowingly stopped walking and she was forced to divulge what kept her from rejoining the others at the table. “thank you for not letting us fend for ourselves. i- i don’t think i could have figured it out on my own.”

steve smiled and shrugged. “it’s nothing, i couldn’t in good conscience let you all get arrested, alice.”

they continued on to the tables, allowing everyone to grab their food. it was a bit of a free for all, but alice did notice that the group had quieted down significantly thanks to devon.

while they’d been gone, it seemed sebastian had roped clint into his cause and had pulled up a map on his phone to search for the nearest amusement park. they found a six flags a short distance away and were quietly circling a petition scribbled on a napkin for everyone who wanted to go to sign. this was always how they’d done things like this. the task force was mainly a democracy even though they all acknowledged that alice was technically their superior now.

when the napkin circled around and made its way into bucky’s lap, he picked it up, squinting at varied rushed and messy signatures before handing it right to steve. “they’re staging a coup.” he joked.

“what’s this for?” steve asked, waving the napkin to draw their attention.

sebastian gulped down the last of his sprite before he spoke “we want to go to six flags and as you can clearly see everyone except you, alice and uh him have signed.” he realized while talking he wasn’t sure what to call bucky. calling him bucky seemed too  informal as they had just met and he was an imposing figure.

“absolutely not!” steve didn’t even need to think about the reasons why that was a bad idea and he couldn’t see why they didn’t see them either. “for one, six flags has cameras and lots of them.” he didn’t want to announce their status as wanted men and women to the entire restaurant, but the point was quite clear.

clint looked over at steve, gesturing with a half eaten burger when he spoke. “the kid’s got a point, cap! they need some fun in their lives. they haven’t been kids in a long time and this is the perfect opportunity for them to relax.” he’d been quickly voted to take on the role as the team’s delegate when alina had pointed out that alice, steve and bucky were likely to disagree.

alice raised an eyebrow, a bit confused on how all this had been worked out in such a short span of time. clearly sebastian had been thinking about it for a while. “can i see the petition?” steve handed her the petition and she quickly counted off ten names including clint’s. her heart sank thinking about how there had previously been thirteen of them that had to vote on things like this. they’d lost one member to hydra and two had signed the accords and now there were ten members of their team. “they’re all here, although normally i wouldn’t let barton have a vote.”

clint looked pleased with himself as he finished his burger.

“so you’re agreeing with them?” bucky was incredulous, being on the run made him antsy and such a public place wasn’t attractive to him.

“we vote on things. not the important stuff, but this is unanimous.” she let the napkin fall onto the table and crossed her arms. “you’re right steve, i see the potential danger and, yeah, the cameras could totally fuck us over, but a vote’s a vote.”

“shouldn’t this be ‘important stuff?’ you’re risking safety on a vote.” the soldier met her gaze with a strong one of his own.

“you don’t have to come. barton can take us and, you and steve are the most recognizable. we’re just a group of teenagers, maybe we’re on a school trip and barton’s our chaperone, maybe we’re the cast of an oddly diverse disney show on a bonding trip before we start shooting a pilot.” alice picked up her cup of coffee that she’d ordered and sipped thoughtfully. “i think we can take care of ourselves for a day. you guys can scope out our next safe house or whatever.”

she made a good point. although everyone in their group was a fugitive, there was safety in numbers and they really could pass for a school group if they didn’t draw attention to themselves. he and bucky were much more recognizable than them. steve looked to bucky as if to say ‘she’s got me beat’ and spoke “don’t draw attention to yourselves and don’t split up. know your exits and have multiple meet up points if you do get split up. and, i’m sending sam with you.”

alice turned her attention to the team, her tone the one she used on missions, “hands raised if that sounds like a good deal to you.” she watched as the hands of the group slowly rose into the air, unanimous again, clint included. “looks like you have yourself a deal, rogers.”

[heich0e]

polluted geto suguru, gojo satoru, ryomen sukuna, kamo choso/f!reader word count: 11k warnings: 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, recreational drug use (weed), dubious consent, slight sexual coercion, sex under the influence, gangbang, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), double penetration (oral and vaginal), biting, spitting, creampie, snowballing, pussyjob, fingering, choking, squirting, hair pulling, generally rough sex, implication of non-consensual filming/photography, shotgunning, college!au, no curses!au, slight dumbification, ft a cameo from nanami. a/n: this is a continuation of a drabble i posted ages ago (the first few hundred words of this fic!) feel free to skip that if you've already read it. also these tags alone are sending me to hell. enjoy! never talk to me about this again! crossposted to AO3

"D'ya want some?" Gojo asks up at you, his head in your lap as you tap at the screen of your cellphone idly, leaving a heart on a friend's perfectly filtered photo that only makes you feel a little bitter when you look at it.

"Hm?" you ask, glancing down towards him as he peers up at your face. He has a bag of gummy candy resting on his tummy, and you part your lips and stick your tongue out slightly, asking for one of his sweets.

He lets out a little heh at your expression before popping a pink and blue candy–dusted with a sweet-sour crystalline coating–into your waiting mouth.

"I meant the weed," Gojo answers your earlier hum only once you begin to chew the treat he'd just fed you. He sticks his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean of the tangy sugar that clings to it. "D'ya want some?"

"Oh," you reply, eyes flickering to the other side of Gojo and Geto's dorm room where Choso is seated on the floor, a pillow on his lap and an old DVD case on top of it. He's diligently packing the ground up weed into a rolling paper–little bits of green clinging to the tips of his fingers like the sugar had to Gojo's. "I don't think so."

You really shouldn't.

"Why?" Satoru asks petulantly. He's not smoking either–isn't allowed to since the last time when he threw up in Geto's backpack and ruined his social anthropology textbook–but he seems indignant at your refusal. 

Choso's dark eyes flicker up to you too, as though interested in your reply, but when he sees you looking back at him he busies himself with his rolling once more with a streak of pink curling across his cheeks. 

He's still a little shy around you.

"Who cares?" Sukuna chimes in from where he's reclining in Gojo's desk chair at the end of the bed, tossing a miniature foam basketball up into the air idly before catching it in one large hand and repeating the motion. "Means more weed for us. Fushiguro said this is good shit when I picked up earlier, too."

"That guy with the scar?" Geto asks, peeking out from under his textbook and Sukuna grunts out some sort of affirmative. 

Suguru is sprawled out across his bed directly opposite you now that Nanami left to return to his own room–finding the rest of you too distracting to get anything done during what was supposed to be a study session.

You feel something prod against your lips and look down to see Gojo attempting to feed you another sweet. You let him. 

"You didn't answer my question," he singsongs as you bite down on the chewy confection between your teeth. 

You push most of the rapidly melting, sticky-sweet candy into your cheek with your tongue to talk around it. "I get really.... annoying when I'm high."

Gojo stares up at you for a moment before pulling himself into a seated position at your side.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

A chuckle from across the room tears your eyes away from Satoru's inquisitive gaze, and towards Sukuna who has suddenly stopped tossing the basketball and instead has his attention fixed on you.

You glare at him weakly, knowing what he's thinking without him saying it. "Shut up."

It only makes him laugh again, a sharp smirk on his lips.

"What?" Gojo whines, missing the unspoken words you and Sukuna have exchanged.

"Weed doesn't make her annoying," Sukuna drawls, tossing the basketball up again, only this time away from him–you watch as it curves gracefully in the air, swishing through the little net Geto and Gojo have affixed to the back of their door. "She's always annoying."

"Kuna–" you mumble warningly, your cheeks flushing hot as you squirm nervously atop the rumpled sheets of Satoru's bed.

Everyone has stopped what they're doing now: Suguru's textbook set aside, Choso's fingers stilling with the edge of the nearly finished joint pinched between them.

Sukuna's smirk turns into something even sharper, a smile unfurling slow and wicked across his face. 

"Weed doesn't make her annoying–it makes her into a whore."

Everything is hot.

The prickle of smoke in your lungs each time the joint is held to your lips—though you’ve lost track of whose fingers are holding it out to you now.

The flush that curls up your neck and through your face. It burns, almost; blood rushing too close to the surface of your skin to be comfortable.

The three sets of eyes you feel on your skin from various places around the room.

Sukuna’s mouth.

The dorm room smells unmistakably of weed–heavy, earthy, dank—even with the window open and a fan on to whisk the curling plumes of smoke outside. There’s a grimy old towel crammed into the space underneath the door to keep the scent from seeping out into the hallway, but the boys’ RA has let them get away with far worse in their time in residence. At this point you’re not exactly sure what it would take for them to earn a warning knock, much less any sort of formal reprimand.

You guess it pays to have your family’s name plastered on most of the buildings on campus like Satoru’s does.

There’s music playing in the room, bass heavy and slow, and you know it must be Geto’s doing even if you aren’t sure when he turned it on. You recognize the familiar sound from late night drives you’ve taken with him in his car—an old silver sedan that he takes immaculate care of, constantly tinkering away at it—and the songs he sends you to listen to from the other side of your table in the library while you study. The music, like the towel, serves its own purpose.

To mask the sound of you.

“‘Kuna,” you pant raggedly, fingers twisting into his blush pink hair and tugging. He sucks harder at the sensitive spot on your neck that he’s been lavishing with attention for the past few minutes—the one he’s more than familiar with from previous hookups—in retaliation. “Kiss me, kiss me.”

He chuckles, but indulges your desperation, mouthing his way back to your lips: up your throat, along your jaw, eventually slotting his soft mouth to yours. 

“She’s so whiny when she’s high,” Gojo says breathlessly, but he sounds closer to you than you expect him to. 

You peel your heavy eyelids open only to see him hovering just over Sukuna’s shoulder, blinking when you spot his unsettlingly blue eyes watching you raptly. You try to pull back from Sukuna’s rapacious kiss, startled by Satoru’s proximity, but the boy beneath you’s insistent hands hold you even more firmly to his lap in protest–earning him another needy sound from your throat as your hips grind down against his own. Your lips part in a silent cry of objection, and Sukuna takes it as an invitation to press his tongue even deeper into your open mouth.

“When’s someone else gonna get a turn?” Gojo complains, reaching out to tug on a bit of your hair beside your cheek childishly. 

You’d chastise him if Sukuna’s tongue wasn’t mapping the depths of your throat.

“Relax, Satoru.” Geto snorts from his place on his dormitory bed. 

Suguru’s textbook has long been discarded on the floor, the page he’d been reading marked but the time for revision evidently passed, and his hair has been retied into a neater knot at the top of his head, pulled back from his handsome face. His eyes watch carefully as Sukuna’s hands slip up underneath the hem of your top, thumbs dipping beneath the cups of your bra to sweep against the soft flesh. Suguru glances at the blonde still lingering over you from where he sits reclined–his legs crossed and body language apathetic though his attention feels anything but. 

“We’ll all get our chance, so just enjoy the show.”

Sukuna draws back suddenly, lips parting from yours with one final wet smack. 

He hums, nosing at your cheek as you try futilely to chase his mouth, whimpering as he denies you it. There’s a smirk curling, smug and cruel and sure, at the corner of his lips. 

“He might have a point, y’know,” Sukuna drawls.

You make a little sound of confusion, your hands slipping from the back of Sukuna’s neck to the front of his t-shirt, pressing against the hard planes of his chest as you balance yourself atop his lap. The rolling desk chair you’re straddling him in really isn’t meant for two, especially not when you’re as dizzy as you currently feel, but Sukuna keeps you steady with his large hands braced on your hips.

He’d coaxed you over after your first few puffs and hadn’t let you leave his grasp since.

“Stop teasing,” you murmur, eyes tracing his pink, spit-slicked lips covetously.

“But if I fuck you first, that’s not really fair is it?—”

He tilts his face up and kisses you, deceptively gentle, and then pinches your bottom lip between his sharp teeth—pulling away until it slips from his bite and snaps back into place. You’re bewildered by his comment, peering at him curiously as your lip stings.

When has Sukuna ever cared about being fair? 

He chuckles at your expression, as though he senses your thought without you saying it.

”—Not when I know just how you like it.”

“Do you two do this a lot?” Geto asks from his bed on the other side of the room, his tone level and impassive. Sukuna’s scarlet gaze flickers to him over your shoulder, and he grins—sharp and mean.

“Only when she begs for it.”

You’d refute the claim, but it has its grounds.

“That’s big talk, Ryomen,” Geto remarks, but there’s an unmistakably competitive undercurrent to his lighthearted tone.

“Too much talk,” Satoru interjects exasperatedly, cutting between the two men’s tense exchange and dragging you up to your feet in one swift motion. He’s at the end of his non-existent patience. 

You move easily, pliably, under Gojo’s greater strength and imposing stature as he hauls you up; you stumble forward into his chest, unbalanced on your feet as your head swims. You’re dizzy, everything a little fuzzy around the edges, but he holds you steady with his palms cupping your cheeks and ducks down to crush his mouth to yours.

Satoru tastes sweet like the candy he was eating earlier, though you can’t honestly say how long it’s been since he’s polished off the bag, and he sounds just as tooth-achingly saccharine. Little moans and groans of praise slip from him unbidden as he topples back across his bed and drags you down with him.

“Toru, be careful,” you complain against his eagerness, the words half-lost to his lips, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

He flips you over so you’re the one on your back, rising to his knees and pulling your hips down towards him so they rest atop his thighs. Your shoulder blades press into the soft give of his mattress, blinking up at him as he curls forward over your frame until the two of you are nose to nose. His breathing is notably faster, heavier than it had been before, as his hands trail up and down your sides, mapping every divot and curve of your thighs, hips and ribs.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs infatuatedly, before locking your mouths together once more.

Satoru’s hands are greedy and relentless: pawing and groping at any part of you that he can reach. When he stretches his fingers wide, you’re almost startled by just how much of your torso they can span, digging into your flesh in fervent squeezes.

“I bet you taste good,” he breathes hotly against your mouth, pulling back to look at you with his pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen them—it’s hard to believe he hasn’t taken a single hit from the joint at all with the way the inky black threatens to swallow the striking blue of his irises.

You hear a deep exhale, and the smell of smoke in the room thickens for a moment. Your head lolls to the side against Satoru’s soft cotton bedspread, and your unfocused eyes slide to Sukuna as he breathes out a wispy cloud of grey. His next words are directed to Gojo, but his attention is only on you. 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Satoru heeds his advice zealously, and makes his way down your body while you writhe beneath him. It’s a little inundating, the way he touches you—the pressure of his body on yours, the heat of his big big hands, the praises that he whispers into every place his lips graze.

“Toru, I’m hot,” you complain, squirming as he kisses along your ribs.

He peeks up at you over the curve of your tummy, toying with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. His bright eyes are wide with excitement and his cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink. “I can help you with that.” 

Eagerly he works to peel your top off over your head, it’s a little uncoordinated but you feel an immediate relief as the cool air from the fan meets your sticky skin. Satoru ducks down once your top has been shucked aside and you’re laid flat against the bed again, sucking a stinging mark into the swell of your chest that peeks out from your bra. He cups one palm around either breast to push them together and further into his drooling mouth. But still he doesn’t linger, frenetic in his avidity, moving quickly back down to the waistband of your pants and toying with the button of your jeans that holds them closed.

“Please, Satoru,” you mumble, almost shyly but undeniably strained, as his fingertips stroke the soft skin just below your navel.

He looks at you with a cheshire grin, pleased beyond anything to have you begging, and he needs no further encouragement to pop the closure open. 

You lift your hips so Satoru can tug your jeans down your thighs, but he wastes no time in settling back between your parted thighs.

“Oh, look at her,” he coos, his thumb pressing against the damp patch of cotton between your legs. Your hips squirm at the pressure, but he keeps you pinned in place. “You’re so wet.”

With no warning, he dips down and sucks against the material lewdly.

“Toru!” you gasp, a hand flying to his hair and tugging on the impossibly soft white strands, though it does nothing to pry him away from his prize.

“Shh, shh,” he quiets you, pinching at your thigh punitively until your grip slackens, “I don’t wanna waste it.”

In seconds the cotton is soaked through with his spit, clinging to the lips of your cunt as he pushes it between your folds with his tongue. He hums happily with every debauched slurp.

“This is nasty,” Geto says with a laugh as he watches the spectacle unfolding from the bed opposite, sounding every bit as though he’s enjoying himself. “You’re always such a freak, Satoru.” 

You’re a little too far gone to catch the implication that you’re not the first girl the two of them have shared. Probably not even in this very room.

“Give her another hit, Kamo,” Sukuna chimes in from his seat at the end of the bed, leaning back leisurely in his chair as he takes in the scene before him.

You’d almost forgotten Choso was there, honestly, especially with Gojo’s tongue toying with your clit through the thin material of your panties. You tilt your head to the side, looking through the hazy dorm room to see the youngest (and the quietest) of the four men watching you with pink in his cheeks, and another unlit joint between his fingers. 

Another one? How many have you gone through now?

Choso approaches trepidatiously, and crouches next to the bed beside your head. He clicks the purple plastic lighter held in his fingers, sparking it to life, and holds it to the end of the joint pinched between his lips. He takes a small puff to start it off, pursing his mouth to the side on his exhale as he tries not to blow the smoke into your already teary eyes. He gently holds the unlit end to your lips in offering once it’s burning.

“Just a little one, okay?” you say warily, wrapping your lips around the little paper filter. He nods with his gaze on nothing but your mouth, and swallows thickly. 

You feel the first prickle of smoke in your burning lungs at the exact moment Gojo wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard.

You gasp, drawing in a breath too deeply, and immediately choke on the bitter, acrid taste that floods your throat. You cough and cough, smoke slipping from your mouth and nose while your back arches high off Satoru’s bed with every hack, and spit dribbles from the corner of your lips messily.

“Are you alright?” Choso asks, immediately tossing the joint aside into the grody, chipped ashtray resting under the window. He quickly wipes the saliva on your chin away with the edge of his hoodie sleeve, looking at you with panicked eyes.

“Oh, Satoru, that was mean,” Geto calls from his place across the room, but he sounds almost pleased.

“She’s not paying attention to me.” Gojo pulls back from between your legs, a pout on his slick, swollen lips. A long, viscid string of saliva stretches and breaks between his mouth and your throbbing clit. 

Sukuna laughs, thoroughly entertained. “Maybe she’s tired of you sucking on her g-string like a perv.”

“Is that true?” Gojo asks you, sounding almost wounded as he drags you down towards him across the mattress. You’ve still barely caught your breath, your head spinning in a way you don’t quite like as he drops to his knees on the floor. He positions your hips at the very edge of the bed and hooks your knees over either one of his shoulders, your thighs parting further to accommodate his broad frame.

He doesn’t bother to wait for a response to his own question as his lithe fingers pry your soaking wet underwear down your thighs, and the tell-tale sound of cotton tearing tells you that you won’t be putting them back on again. He tosses the tattered remains towards Choso who catches them in confusion, glancing between the sopping scraps in his hand and the man who had thrown them at him.

“You can play with those while you wait your turn,” Gojo says to him, his voice shifting from the cloying, petulant tone he’d used with you into something low, firm, and warning. He suddenly sounds every bit the young scion you know him to be.

Satoru’s blue eyes flicker back to you, as if to make sure you’re watching, and then he dips down and seals his mouth against your bare pussy.

It’s hot, wet, and overwhelming—a sound not dissimilar to a squeal is torn out of you as Satoru’s tongue moves, messy and relentless, between your legs. You’d almost call his technique uncoordinated if it wasn’t so disastrously effective; pleasure curls tight in your belly with every slick suck against your clit, though it’s a mounting burn like panic.

“Toru, I—ngh, haa—s-slow down please I—“ you’re babbling and you know it, barely coherent as your head swims. Before you can even formulate a complete utterance, each fleeting thought less tangible than the last,  Satoru’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your inner thigh and you shriek.

“So fuckin’ noisy,” Sukuna muses flatly from his chair at the end of the bed. He’s got a front row seat to watching Gojo devour you—and to the angry red imprint of teeth he’s left burning on your thigh—but he stands, shuffling across the room towards the window by your head. You’re too distracted to keep track of his movements as he plucks your panties from Choso’s hand and approaches the bed where you lie defenseless under the ministrations of Gojo’s tongue. 

Sukuna stares down at you for a moment, but you can barely keep your eyes open to meet his gaze.

“Open up,” he says, tapping your cheek with the knuckle of his crooked index finger.

You oblige without thinking, lips parting and tongue pressing forward slightly between them. Without any warning, he stuffs the remnants of your undergarment into your mouth.

The fabric tastes of your slick and Gojo’s spit, sticky and tangy and obscene, and it makes your already dry mouth feel even more desiccated as your moans bleed into the material.

Satoru whines into your cunt, a thoroughly pleased sound at the debauched sight. He grinds shamelessly against the end of his bed as he kneels at the foot of it, his hands holding your hips even firmer against his face as his tongue laps against your twitching hole all the way back up to your clit.

“You gonna cum for him?” Sukuna asks, watching the way your eyes are fighting to stay open, the way your fingers are gripping weakly into the blankets beneath you.

You nod, your mouth stuffed too full for anything else, with tears burning in your bleary eyes.

He smirks. “Give ‘em a good show then, will ya?”

He takes his seat again, knees spread as his hand passes lightly over the half-hard swell of his own cock, ready to watch you fall apart.

Your back bows on a particularly enthusiastic suck against your clit, your thighs clamping down hard over Satoru’s ears. Electricity thrums live through your veins, crackling from one end of your body to the other until you see it spark behind your eyes, and the sound of your desperate voice stops registering in your empty mind as your own as your muffled cries turn rapturous.

“Wow,” you distantly hear Geto—at least you think it’s Suguru’s voice—remark approvingly, watching the way your thighs twitch around his best friend’s neck as your orgasm rips through you.

Your muscles go slack as your clit throbs dully, still victim to Satoru’s insatiable tongue, your legs nearly slipping off his shoulders as your pulse thrums in your ears. Your trembling fingers reach up to fish the panties out of your mouth as you pant desperately for breath.

Satoru’s bed is surprisingly comfortable, you can’t help but notice as you fight to draw in air. It’s way more comfortable than your own standard issue dorm mattress, and you wonder if he’d brought his own to furnish the room on move-in day as you sink back into it. Your eyes are shut, and you feel like you could slip away to the call of sleep if you just—

“That was so pretty, you’re so pretty, god you taste so good,”—Satoru scrambles up, leaving you no time to recover from the sedulous talents of his overactive mouth, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans and shucking them down to mid-thigh hurriedly—“you’re so perfect.”

Your eyes flutter open and down to watch as he runs himself through the mess he’s made, rutting just the underside of his cock against you as precum oozes from his slit. Your breath hitches as you catch sight of him for the first time. 

“Satoru–”

He holds both of your knees together with a single hand, twisting your hips slightly to one side and grinding himself against the wet heat of your pussy, but never sinking inside. You’re not sure you could even take it, he’s so big; anyone else’s dick would look small in comparison to Satoru’s hands, but his is perfectly, terrifyingly proportionate to the rest of him. 

Fortunately for you, he seems content to fuck himself against you like this– or too desperate to do much of anything else—the patch of neatly trimmed white hair at the base of his flushed cock brushing against the back of your thighs on every frantic thrust.

“Your pussy is so soft, so wet,” Satoru prattles on incessantly as he grinds against you, his hips clapping against your ass with every rut, “so good. D’you know that? You know that, right?”

You don’t answer him. Can’t answer him. Struck dumb by the ebbing glow of your orgasm, the sight of his enormous cock, and the THC flooding through your bloodstream. Your silence doesn’t seem to bother him in any case—he seems far more interested in the sound of his own voice than in anything that you might have to say in reply.

Satoru stays vocal as he chases his own pleasure, moaning and praising you blindly as he humps himself between your thighs. It doesn’t take much longer until he cums across your stomach with a blissed out keen that puts every pornstar you’ve ever seen to shame. His hands hold you tight against his twitching hips as he cock kicks and gives one last long splatter of white across your tummy, all the way up to the valley of your ribs.

The room is quiet in the aftermath, save for the steady buzzing of the fan, the music playing from the speaker on Suguru’s desk, and the sound of you and Satoru’s laboured breathing.

But not for long.

“Jeez, do you always have to be so messy?” Geto asks, rising from his place across the room. But there’s no real bite in his comment—and there never is when it comes to Satoru. “You really need to learn to clean up after yourself.”

Gojo grabs your discarded panties from beside you on his bed and swipes them through the cum drying to your skin with a little giggle, barely cleaning you up at all. 

Geto gives him a harmless little knock against the back of his head, but doesn’t truly seem to mind. 

“You know, I really didn’t take you for such an exhibitionist,” he says to you as he pries your limp body up off Satoru’s bed, weak-kneed and unsteady as you may be, and helps you across the room towards his own. 

Suguru leads each of your wobbly steps like a dance—one arm wrapped snugly around your waist, and his other hand clasped around yours as he steers you across the narrow strip of floor between their respective halves of the room. He pulls you down to straddle his lap, your knees sinking into his mattress (not nearly as plush as Satoru’s) on either side of his hips as you bounce lightly on the creaky springs, while he rests with his back against the dorm wall.

“I’m not, Suguru,” you mumble petulantly, fisting his t-shirt as he holds you flush against him. He smells good, even through the stench of the weed clinging to him and you and everything else in the room—like new paper, laundry detergent, and the conditioner you’d bought for him once that he never stopped using—and you nuzzle instinctively into his neck to get closer to the scent. You must be making a mess of his grey sweatpants, but he doesn’t complain.

“Sure, sure,” he says breezily, and you feel the gentle warmth of his hand on your chin as he tilts your face up towards him. 

He kisses you and it’s hungry.

Tongues sliding, mouths parted, teeth nipping at your already sore lips.

Kissing Suguru is nice, you think. It feels familiar even in its foreignness. Welcome even in the head rush. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it before, even if your relationship has only ever been platonic: in quiet moments in his beloved car, late night study dates in isolated corners of the library, midnight walks across campus to the convenience store to sate an ill-timed craving. His lips had always been tempting, but it’s even better than you may have hoped. 

You lose yourself in it, a little bit—whatever is left of you to be lost, anyway.

You barely notice as his nimble fingers undo the clasp of your bra, easing it away until you’re completely bare against him; too preoccupied to piece together that you’re the only person in the room who isn’t fully clothed. He tilts his face away from you for a moment, leaving you to kitten lick at the corner of his mouth distractingly. 

“Pass me the joint,” he grunts out towards Choso, tossing your bra aside as haplessly as Gojo had discarded the rest of your clothes, and his junior hands the half-burned spliff to him obediently.

“Don’t want any more,” you murmur against Suguru’s cheek, dipping down and tucking your face into the crook of his neck again. 

He laughs, and you feel the sound reverberate through his chest and into yours.

“Just a little bit?” he urges you, an affectionate arm snaking around your waist and squeezing. “For me?”

You shake your head as much as you’re able with your burning face hidden against his throat.

“Here,” he coaxes you out with a gentle knead of his fingers into your thigh, and you find yourself peeking up at him against your better judgement. “You’ll barely even get high from this, it’s just to keep you feeling good.” 

You don’t know if what he says is true, but you let him do it anyway. He takes a long drag from the joint, his serpentine eyes watching you carefully as the cherry flares bright red and angry, and then he seals his mouth over yours and exhales. 

You breathe in the heavy, polluted air from his lungs like a reflex.

“There you go,” he says, drawing back and watching contently as you exhale a little cloud of smoke. It’s fainter than if you’d taken the hit yourself, and burns less in your chest, so you think he must be right. “Easy.” 

Things get fuzzier after that.

Suguru has you on your hands and knees, though you don’t quite know how you got there. Maybe you’d moved yourself, maybe he’d instructed you, or maybe he’d maneuvered your pliant body with the force of his own two hands. But here you are, your face pressed into a pillow that smells of him, his body curving over yours from behind. 

You feel his bare chest against your back, and wonder when he’d taken off his shirt. Wonder if it’s the only thing that’s bare. Suguru mouths at the nape of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Y’know, I’ve been waiting a long time for this,--” he whispers the words so softly that you’re sure only you can hear them. They rattle around through your brain for a moment, incoherent in the buzz. 

Once they finally do register, there’s a part of you—a distant, more sober part, that’s watching things unfold warily—wonders if he means longer than just the time he’d watched Sukuna and Satoru play with you. His fingers trail down your sides, and you shiver. 

“--but it’s okay. I’m patient.”

“Suguru!” you cry out as he slips the head of his cock inside of you without warning. You aren’t ready, even though you’re wet—Gojo hadn’t stretched you out, and Suguru’s fingers, for all their teasing and toying, had never pressed inside.

“God, how’s your pussy so tight?” he hisses through his teeth, the stifling heat of his body fading as he draws himself up to rest on his knees. He has one hand on the small of your back holding you down, while the other is on your ass–spreading you apart so he can see the way he’s pressing into your pussy. 

He’s still barely inside of you, but his hips still as he takes in the way your walls are stretched around him, sucking him in. He takes a moment to collect himself, then glances over his shoulder at Sukuna. 

“You must not actually be fucking her as well as you think you are.”

Sukuna scowls. “Fuck you.”

“Bit busy right now,” Suguru replies, feigning flippancy as he snaps his hips forward harshly, sheathing himself all the way to the hilt. He grinds against your ass as you whimper into his pillow, the sound muffled beyond recognition by the cotton of his pillowcase. “But hit me up later.”

Geto is brutal in the way he fucks you: unyielding, rough. But he touches you tenderly. Praises you gently under his breath after every thrust. It’s almost confusing; his hips at war with his hands, his actions at war with his words.

The initial pain and discomfort subsides quickly, thanks to Suguru’s fingers carefully rolling against your twitching clit. Every time you want to complain, he compensates his cruelty with something so pleasant that the protest dies on your lips. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight right now,” Suguru groans, fingers skirting up to pinch at one of your pebbled nipples. You clench down around him instinctively at the sensation. “You want to cum?”

There’s too much saliva in your mouth to answer him properly, too much blood rushing to your head to do anything more than whimper and nod as your fists twist into his blue bed sheets.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Suguru asks, his hips easing to a torturous grind behind you, dragging slow against your fluttering walls. “Gojo already made you cum once, and you didn’t even thank him for it.”

“Suguru, you’re being a bastard again,” Gojo laughs brightly from the other side of the room, though you can’t see him from where your head is pressed into the pillow.

“If you could feel how tight her little pussy just clamped down around me you’d know she likes it,” the man inside you laughs, something mean and manic in the sound. He curves himself over your back again, brushing a bit of your hair away from your face. “You tell Gojo thank you, and I’ll let you cum, how about that?” 

Geto’s fingers wrap themselves around your throat, pulling you upright with a hand cupped under your chin. There’s spit and tears on your face, and you feel them cooling against the breeze of the fan on the other side of the room as you blink against the brightness of the fluorescent light overhead.

You turn your head slightly with Suguru’s help, meeting Gojo’s eye from across the dorm. He’s got a cherry-red lollipop in his mouth now, staining his swollen lips. He’s seated with his legs crossed at the end of his bed, and he’s watching you intently as you peer over at him.

“Thank you, Toru,” you rasp, moaning when Geto’s hand squeezes a little bit tighter around your windpipe.

“For what?” Suguru urges you to continue, lips pressing against your hairline. He gives a slow, tantalizing roll of his hips, and he feels so much deeper at this angle–like he’s pressing right up against the inside of your stomach.

Your eyelids flutter, and you struggle to swallow under his grip.

You meet Gojo’s eager gaze again.

“Thank you for m-making me cum, Satoru.”

Gojo grins ferally around the candy in his mouth, and Geto hums, appeased. Goosebumps prickle across your skin as he presses a kiss to your sticky temple.

“Good girl.”

The hand not loosely cupping your throat snakes down between your legs, orbiting your tacky clit in quick, vicious circles—your reward. 

You cry out, nails scrabbling against his forearm near your throat blindly, your body slackening against the sudden onslaught of pleasure building in your core. Geto strength is the only thing keeping you upright as your body trembles.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let everyone see how pretty you are when you cum on my cock.”

And you do.

You cum so hard under the relentless swipes of Suguru’s fingertips that it almost hurts. Your thighs shake as you come undone, the tightness in the centre of your core snapping like a cord wound up too taut. His hips don’t stop fucking you through your peak, your chest bouncing on every thrust, even as the pangs of overstimulation begin to twist the pleasure into something painful.

You hiccup over a sob. 

“Please, please,” you beg him, watery and desperate, slumping even further forward against his hold. “Suguru, s’too much, I can’t.”

He relents, mercifully—letting go of your throat and wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you upright against his chest again and pressing kisses to your neck. His tongue flicks out to taste the perspiration on your aching throat.

“You’re so good to us, aren’t you?” he murmurs into your skin, and you feel yourself nodding as his arms tighten around you.

Choso is still sitting on the floor beside the head of the bed, and his dark doe-eyes blink at you in surprise as your dizzy gazes meet—almost like he’s not anticipating being seen. He’s running his hand along the visible swell of his cock in his black joggers absentmindedly, but his touch is featherlight and barely there. He watches you watch him through a heavy-lidded gaze.

“You’re up, Kamo.” 

Suguru sounds warm, gregarious even, in his invitation, and it takes both of you by surprise. He shuffles away behind you, drawing back and leaving you terribly empty. You whine, falling forward to your elbows and narrowly avoiding landing on your face now that he’s not there to keep you upright.

“Su’gru, wait,” you slur needily, reaching behind you with your hand to grasp blindly where you expect him to be. You wiggle your hips in search of him, and feel your pussy fluttering around nothing.

Suguru’s fingers dance teasingly across your palm and then over your spine, down to your ass. He grips the soft give of muscle and fat, squeezing down into the flesh as laughter bubbles up in his throat.

“Make a bit of room, sweetheart. Choso needs a turn too,”—he gives you another squeeze, this time insistent—“you’ll let him use your pretty mouth, won’t you?”

You hum some sort of agreement.

Choso stands and approaches the bed, watching your expression carefully. He’s intrigued, undeniably, but seems poised to flee at the slightest indication of uncertainty on your part.

“Hi Choso,” you say as you blink up at him, sniffling as you push yourself weakly onto your haunches, your hands resting atop your knees. He’s blushed down to his throat as he dips his head at you in quiet greeting. Your hand reaches up to trail against the prominent outline of his cock below his waistband. “Can I?”

He nods, but it’s hesitant. “If you’re sure.”

Choso lowers himself into the bed, making sure not to jostle you too harshly as he finds his place with a leg on either side of your body, propped against the headboard.

You crawl forward towards his lap, nuzzling against the tent in his joggers and mouthing at the tip until you can taste the salty tang of his precum seeping through the fabric. He brushes some hair back from your eyes as you peek up at him.

His gaze is heavy, like the droop of his eyelids, and this close to him you see just how warm the deep brown of his eyes really is. So dark they almost look black, from this angle you can see the honey that runs behind the stygian surface.

He’s really very handsome in his own strangely delicate way, you can’t help but think.

Your hand creeps slowly below the waistband of his joggers, fingers following the little trail of coarse hair below his navel until you wrap your hand around him. His cock is hot and heavy, and you can feel it give a palpable little twitch as your fingers circle the surprising girth. Gently, you pull him out.

Even Choso’s cock is pretty. Long, curved, with purpled veins that run the length of him all the way to the flushing, leaking tip. He’s so hard. Achingly hard. You can’t believe how lightly he’d been touching himself when you see just how desperately aroused he is.

You dip forward and take the head of him into your mouth, suckling around him. Desperate to give him some sort of relief. Choso hisses in surprise as your lips seal themselves around the flared head, tonguing at the slit—almost like he hadn’t been expecting you to touch him at all.

Your eyes watch him intently, your brow quirking in curiosity.

“S’hot,” he explains, his deep, raspy voice incongruously diffident. “Your mouth is hot, s’all.”

You focus your attention on Choso’s tip for a while, because he seems so sensitive there—little gasps and twitches of his hips giving him away. Your drool drips slowly down to his balls, the waistband of his joggers tucked beneath them catching it, and you use your hand to slowly stroke the slickness back up from the base towards your mouth. 

It sounds messy–it is messy–but no one vocalizes the slightest bit of complaint.

Behind you, Suguru’s fingers dip just barely inside of you–twisting, curling and scissoring before they withdraw and roll slowly over your neglected clit. You’re not as sensitive as you had been, and the sensation is nice but never enough. Your hips cant back unconsciously towards him as you chase his touch for more, and it makes him laugh, but never quite indulge you.

Choso shifts slightly, taking the hem of his t-shirt that’s rucked up over the bottom of his tummy obstructing his view of you and bringing it up to pinch it between his teeth. As he lifts his shirt to expose his skin, he reveals two pink pierced nipples that make you keen in interest. 

You pull yourself off of him with a lewd slurp. 

“Those are pretty,” you say with a breathy sigh as you admire the little piercings, stroking his cock languidly in one hand. It makes a wet shlick shlick sound with every slippery pass. 

Choso lets out a garbled little sound of thanks around the t-shirt in his mouth. You reach up to brush over the metal, curious and experimental, and his thin frame is wracked by a shiver at your gentle touch—the muscles in his abdomen tightening before your eyes.

“Take him in your mouth again, baby. Deep.” Suguru’s voice urges you from over your shoulder, reminding you of the task at hand.

You obey, though you’re a little disappointed to have to tear your attention away from the stainless steel barbells on Choso’s flushing chest.

There’s a bit of discomfort as the fat tip of Choso’s cock squeezes its way past the entrance to your throat, but it’s nothing you can’t handle as you dig your fingertips down into his thighs to ground yourself. He groans, spit soaking into the material of his t-shirt held between his teeth, his eyes so heavy-lidded that they’re barely open as he watches you swallow him down. His cock gives a palpable twitch on your tongue as the pressure of your throat welcomes him in.

You moan around his length at the sensation.

With no warning at all, Suguru presses inside of you again from behind, stretching you open and filling you full full full. You might panic if not for the haze of your mind, but not even that delirious calm can keep you from involuntarily gagging around Choso’s cock as it nestles itself more firmly into the very back of your throat.

“Oh, you tightened up even more,” Suguru says happily, squeezing one of your ass cheeks as he rolls his hips into you, suffocating you even further on Choso’s cock, “do that again.”

You can’t breathe with Choso this deep, especially not with Suguru fucking into you from the other end, forcing any meagre amount of air you do manage to take in through shaky breaths promptly back out through your nose. Your lungs burn. Your jaw aches.

“Gojo, think you can get it up again? There’s a whole other hole going empty back here.” You suddenly feel a hot trail of spit drop against you, and Suguru’s slick fingertip traces teasingly around your rim.

“Ngh—” 

You rip yourself upright, desperate and frightened, saliva flying from your mouth as you cough now that Choso’s cock is no longer carving its way down your esophagus. You push yourself up onto your knees with your hands on Choso’s trembling thighs and instinctively try to crawl towards him, away from the man behind you.

You toss a panicked glance over your shoulder.

“—Suguru, no. I-I don’t like that.” 

It’s the first time you’ve made eye contact with Geto in some time, and definitely the first time you’ve denied him anything. His skin glistens with perspiration, hair slightly messy as it hangs around his shoulders from where half of it has fallen out of his bun at the crown of his head. His eyes are a little wild, but he softens at the sincere look of upset in your tearful gaze–using his grip on your hips to drag you back into his arms.

He presses little kisses across your face, as familiar and comforting as a lover might.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothes you, pecking his way along your cheeks to your quivering lips. “You know I’d never do anything you don’t like, right? I’m too crazy about you to ever do that.”

Something twists in your gut that doesn’t feel nice, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

The song playing in the room trails off, and there’s a few beats of silence before the next kicks in.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Do you?

You let him kiss you into submission once more, held tight in his embrace.

Geto’s hand finds yours and slowly guides your touch back to Choso’s cock, encouraging you to pump your hand up and down the slick length as he continues to kiss you senseless—he’s moving in time like a rhythm you can’t quite follow, resigning yourself to being swept along with the motions. Suguru’s hand around yours grips Choso so tight, and the boy laying on the bed grunts but doesn’t complain, and you realise that he likes it a bit rougher than you’d been with him.

“You’re not gonna break him,” Geto encourages you, mirthful even in the quiet tone of his voice, and it bolsters your confidence to wrap your hand a little bit tighter around the girth of his throbbing cock of your own volition. Choso moans prettily into the hem of his t-shirt, his hips lifting up off the bed.

“I don’t think poor Choso’s gonna last much longer, are you gonna help him cum?” Suguru murmurs into your mouth, and your foggy gaze slides over to the young man in question, writhing on the bed as Geto grips him even tighter on an upstroke with his hand still clasped over yours.

“Mmmhmm,” you agree, and Geto smiles into one last kiss before pulling away.

You get back down on your hands and knees between Choso’s parted thighs, continuing to stroke him with the same intensity that Geto had set. He’s slick not only with your saliva but the liberal amount of precum beading at his slit now and dribbling down his length, and the bitter taste blooms across your tongue as you lick a long stripe from the base to the top. He whimpers as you press the very tip of your tongue just underneath the sensitive head.

“You gonna cum in her mouth or on her face, Kamo?” Sukuna drawls from his seat across the room, and the reminder that he’s still there—still waiting for his turn—makes your thighs press together as your pussy gives a needy throb. “She looks good both ways.”

Choso finally lets the sopping hem of his t-shirt slip from between his teeth, staring down at you with shiny lips and flushed cheeks as his chest heaves.

“Mouth?” he asks raggedly, forming the request like a question—like he’d let you say no. You smile softly.

You like how sweet Choso is with you. How he treats you like you’re delicate.

You stroke his weeping cock once, twice, three times more, and then wrap your lips around him and swallow him as deep as you possibly can.

Choso cums with a beatific moan, his narrow hips jumping up off the creaky mattress of Suguru’s bed. His hands twist into the sheets beside him like he’s trying not to thread them through your hair and hold you flush against him, and you appreciate the courtesy. Once he paints your mouth white, a few hot spurts slipping down your throat, you pull away and make a show of letting your tongue loll out so he can see what’s left of him clinging to it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, fighting for breath, and you nod—coy and demure like you don’t have a stomach full of his cum.

He cranes up towards you, pressing his lips to yours gently. You kiss him with his cum still in your mouth, his tongue sweeping forward to taste it off you.

“Damn, you might be nastier than I am, Kamo,” Gojo cheers from the other side of the room in absolute delight.

“Fat fuckin’ chance,” Sukuna snorts. 

Choso kisses you until you can’t feel any more of his spend lingering in your mouth, though the salty, bitter taste still faintly remains. Your fingers creep up under his shirt to brush over the warm metal of the barbells pierced through his skin as the two of you explore each other’s mouths. You pinch down gently and it earns you a little groan of pleasure as the tip of his tongue traces against your palate. You kiss him–lazy and messy and gentle–and it feels so good you momentarily forget you have an audience.

“How sweet.” There’s something condescending about the way Geto coos it, patronising even. “So good to our shy little junior.”

You pull away from Choso—a long strand of saliva stretching and breaking between your kiss bruised mouths, remnants of it landing on your chin. Geto’s poised on his knees at the other end of the bed, watching you with a smile that makes his eyes narrow and curve into half-moons. There’s nothing kind about it.

He runs a hand along his still stiff cock as it stands proudly between his legs.

“I’d say that’s enough now, wouldn’t you?”

Choso pulls himself up out of the bed without complaint, his fingertips grazing your chin as he cleans the spit from it for the second time that afternoon—though this time the mess is his, at least in part, instead of only yours.

Once it’s just the two of you left atop the bed, Suguru flips you over and presses your legs back. He kisses up between the valley of your breasts as he slots himself between your legs, dragging the flared head of his cock between your soft, sticky folds. He’s already made you cum once, but he hasn’t yet reached his limit. 

Part of you wonders if he’s been holding off for this.

“Did you put on a condom?” you ask, the thought appearing suddenly and starkly. You hadn’t thought about it before–hadn’t had the presence of mind to do so–but now it seems the only thought rattling around in your hazy, delirious brain.

“Oh, I forgot,” Suguru says, though he doesn’t sound remotely apologetic as he sucks against your pulse-point. You’re sensitive there, and it makes something flutter in your tummy that threatens to distract you from the topic at hand. “That okay? You’re on birth control, aren’t you?”

You nod, because it’s true in part—the latter part specifically. 

You don’t have time to bring up the former issue before Suguru is fucking himself inside of you again—a thrust so hard you slide a little further up the bed. You gasp at the sudden stretch and claw at his back, your nails dragging against the musculature of his shoulder blades as he fucks you down into his mattress. He bites and tugs at your lips, kissing you meanly, his hips jackhammering as he chases the release he’s denied himself up until this point. 

His dark hair falls completely out of the knot it had only loosely been holding onto, falling in a curtain around both of your faces. For a moment it’s just the two of you. Laboured breaths. Skin on skin.

Suguru swallows your needy mewls with his esurient mouth, drool spilling down your chin with how messily he’s kissing you. 

“Take it, take it,” he rasps, a fissure crackling through his carefully maintained composure as he nears the end of his fraying rope. “Show them all how you were made to take my fucking cock, baby.” 

Your thighs shake where they’re pressed up to your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh behind your knees as he pushes them even higher up. He uses his grip as leverage to swing his hips down even harder against your own, your jaw going slack on a wordless wail.

Suguru watches the way his cock is carving into you for a few thrusts more, and then he snaps–burying his face in the crook of your neck and clamping his teeth down viciously at the juncture where your throat slopes into your shoulder.

Your back bows off the bed and you scream at the exact same moment that Suguru pitches over the edge, your nails clawing down his back blindly as he stuffs you full with rope after rope of hot, sticky cum—fucking you through his peak with lazy, arrhythmic thrusts that grow sloppier with every throb of his spent cock buried inside of you.

You collapse back onto his bed, boneless and aching. You don’t even know what you feel, how you feel. It’s all just a bit too much to sort through in your addled mind, dulled to an incoherent cacophony of sensations all fighting for attention you don’t have the wits to give them. It’s all out of focus, warped beyond comprehension and only partially due to your inebriation.

Suguru slumps on top of you, your chests meeting. You smell his conditioner again. Familiar. Nice. He’s heavy, but you almost welcome it–it distracts you momentarily from the throbbing in your neck.

“C’mon, Suguru, you almost broke her and now you’re gonna squish her too?” Gojo jeers from the other side of the room, and Suguru laughs as he pushes himself up, the tacky skin of your chests peeling away from each other.

You blink up at him tiredly as he holds himself over you, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. His lips quirk, cupping your face in his hand. It’s tender until it’s not, his fingers pressing into the fat of your cheeks until your lips purse.

“She liked it,” he tosses over his shoulder towards his best friend, sitting up on his knees. He brushes his hair back from his face with one hand, and spreads your quaking thighs with the other. He laughs, his thumb tracing the bitemark Satoru had left for you there, watching the way his cum drips out of you as you clench weakly around nothing. “At least this part of her did.”

You reach up to hide your face under your hands, letting out a plaintive little sound as your cheeks burn. You feel the bed shift as Suguru gets up.

“What are you being shy about now?”

You pry your hands off your face and let your heavy eyelids flit open, though it takes a concerted amount of effort, only to see Sukuna standing above you with a brow quirked. He perches himself on the edge of the bed and swipes a warm, calloused hand over your tearstained cheek.

“You look out of it.”

“Kuna,” you murmur weakly, pouting. You’re grateful to see him in spite of his snark, and when you nuzzle your nose into his rough palm he chuckles. There’s something comforting about his presence, though you may be the only person on earth to ever think that.

“Still got one more in you? For me?” he asks, running his thumbnail–painted black though the polish has long begun to chip–along the edge of your bottom lip.

You nod. 

Sukuna kisses you even though you’re messy, crawling over you on Suguru’s rumpled bedspread. He pulls off his t-shirt and kicks his sweatpants and boxers gracelessly off the end of the bed to deal with later. 

Your body feels funny, like it’s yours but not quite. Tangible and yet somehow shapeless—given form only in the way that Sukuna’s hands trace it.

The tip of his cock catches on your puffy, slick hole, and you wince.

“Sensitive,” you murmur against his mouth, wriggling underneath him in discomfort, and he nods because he knows.

It always surprises you how gentle Sukuna is as he eases inside, and this time is no different. Your head spins at the familiar, toe-curling stretch, and he curses lightly as he seats himself balls-deep inside of you.

“Best pussy on campus, I swear,” he groans against your stinging lips, squeezing your tits which he has cupped in each hand appreciatively. 

He pulls out slowly, making sure you feel every curve and ridge of him as he withdraws—like he wants you to feel how empty he’s leaving you before he’s bullying his way back inside of you again. He begins to rut into you in slow, agonizing strokes, all with near impossible accuracy. The pace he fucks you at is deep and unhurried, just like he’s had practice to know you like it.

Sukuna links your fingers together as he presses both of your hands up over your head.

“Feeling good?” Sukuna laughs against your clumsy tongue, seeing the way your eyes are crossed and barely open. 

You nod, beyond the point of saying anything that isn’t his name as your fingers tighten minutely around his own.

“Fuck, you sound sloppy,” he breathes and you whine, your legs squeezing around his waist in warning. He clicks his tongue at your indignant little sound, but he’s still indulgent as he fucks into you–careful and slow. “Y’know I like you like this.”

Sukuna frees his hands from yours so he can pry your legs from their cage around him, pressing them back into the mattress so your knees are butterflied apart. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck as the bed shakes–the rickety old frame rattling as it knocks against the dorm wall when his hips pick up the pace, the rhythm of his thrusts building in speed.

“Gettin’ pretty tight,” he grunts, his voice more strained now than it had been only a moment prior. “You wanna cum?”  

You nod frantically, tears of exertion welling in your eyes.

“Gonna, hnn haa–Kuna, I’m gonna–!“

He hums, understanding your garbled pleas even though they never take shape into anything articulate. He presses down on the bottom of your stomach with one hand, an almost blinding pressure panging in your core. 

“Let go for me then, princess.”

It all goes white.

“Oh fuck, did you guys see that?” 

You fight to gather your bearings as your pulse pounds viciously under your tongue. Your head rolls to the side in Suguru’s bed, a tear dripping down towards your temple, only to see Gojo staring at you in wide-eyed astonishment, his sucker hanging out of his mouth. 

What does he have his phone out for?

The bed is still knocking noisily against the dorm room wall, but it’s surprisingly well in-time with the beat of the music that’s playing. 

It smells like sex, and sweat, and weed.

And everything is so, so wet. 

Your eyes flicker down your body towards Sukuna. It’s slick along the bottom of his tensed abs and both of your thighs; dripping down your skin and seeping into the duvet on Suguru’s bed. 

Oh.

Oh.

You’re not even sure if you properly came or not, but everything is light and heavy at the same time, torturous and divine. Your walls flutter around Sukuna’s cock all the same, and it leaves him stumbling over his words.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hips slamming down into yours. “So. F-fucking. Messy.”

He yanks you up into his arms, bouncing you on his cock as your arms wind themselves weakly around his neck. You have no strength in your grip, but he holds you tight. The loud lewd slap of skin on skin fills the room as he pummels into you relentlessly.

“Fuck, fuck.” Sukuna thrusts up into you one last time as he cums, holding you down at the same time that he humps against your ass–his hips twitching as his cock gives a heavy throb buried inside of you. You feel hot and almost uncomfortably full; spend drips filthily out of your cunt around the base of his cock, though you can no longer tell what’s his, yours or Geto’s anymore.

It’s a finish befitting the show that you’d promised.

Sukuna sets you down gently, grunting slightly as his flagging cock slips out from the vice of your cunt. He rearranges your legs into a more comfortable position, and with a final affectionate pat on your ass, he stands from the bed.

Gojo whistles appreciatively as you recuperate, tucking his phone back into his pocket and shooting you a wink as your tired eyes flicker over to him. His glossy lips wrap around his lollipop, pushing the candy from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue, as he watches you fight to keep your eyes open.

You lose the battle against your fluttering eyelids quickly, your vision going dark.

“Didn’t know she could squirt,” you hear Suguru say icily—but he sounds far away, like you’re overhearing the conversation from underwater.

Gentle hands ease your aching body up off of the bed, and something soft is wrapped around your shoulders. You burrow into it, eyelids fluttering but never quite lifting, as someone slips into place behind you, propping you up against their warm chest. You rest slack in their hold.

Your eyes peel open to see Sukuna pulling on his shirt on the other side of the room, his shoulder blades flexing as he lifts the tee up and tugs it over his head. He laughs, but it’s not a particularly friendly sound, as his head pops out through the neck hole. He claps a hand on Suguru’s shoulder, who stands beside him with his arms crossed over his chest. The gesture is fraught with tension.

Sukuna shows a sharp, smug flash of teeth. 

“Yeah,” he says, “and she lets me fuck her ass, too.”

The corner of Suguru’s nose twitches like he’s trying not to sneer.

You let your eyes close once more, though if you had the energy you’d be rolling them.

There’s a sudden knock at the boys' dorm room door. 

It’s a single rap. Sharp. Irritated.

They don’t even bother trying to hide the weed, Sukuna—brazen as he is—actually tucks an unlit joint behind his ear as he kicks the towel away and pulls open the door.

“Yeah, what?” he asks the unsuspecting knocker brusquely, leaning indolently against the doorframe on one arm.

A tut of admonishment comes from the other side of Sukuna’s frame, followed by a beleaguered sigh.

“Do you guys mind? Some people in this building are trying to study while you’re in here—”

The familiar voice falters to a stop. 

Sukuna laughs, nudging open the door a little bit wider so that the man on the other side can get a better view at what exactly it is that’s caught his attention.

Nanami’s eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him. You’re only half-conscious sprawled across Suguru's bed, naked save for Choso’s unzipped hoodie wrapped around you. Your head rests against the aforementioned man’s chest as he quietly strokes your side, trying to get you to take a drink from the room temperature bottle of water in his hand– though you’re more preoccupied with playing with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around it.

“Hi Ken,” you giggle weakly as your head lolls in his direction, perking up at his unexpected appearance. 

Choso sets the bottle aside on Geto’s bedside table and holds your waist carefully as you push yourself up, like he doesn’t quite trust the way your limbs wobble underneath you as you shuffle towards the end of the bed near the door. You lean towards the two men in the doorway on your hands and knees, the hoodie on your frame falling open.

Kento swallows, not sure where to look, and the tips of his ears go pink.

You sit back on your haunches, knees parted, and you feel the slow ooze of cum as it drips out onto Suguru’s stained bedspread between your legs. You smile at him dazedly, titling your head to the side so the imprint of Geto’s teeth are on full display on the side of your marked up throat.

“Is it your turn now?”

[headkiss]

elevator

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: requested prompts “looks like we could be trapped for a while” “it could be worse.” being stuck in a russian elevator with steve leads you both to confess some things.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: nothing, just fluff!

a/n: thank u for requesting!! this idea was super cute and i had lots of fun writing it <3 hope u enjoy!!!

༄

Being trapped in a secret Russian elevator was not how you expected your night to go, but here you were.

You had been visiting Scoops Ahoy on your breaks from the store you worked at ever since you started working. Robin and Steve quickly became some of your closest friends, and you would always look forward to spending time with them.

This, however, is not something you were ecstatic about.

When you walked into Scoops on your break you were expecting it to go as normal. Steve preparing your order exactly how you liked it, then playfully scolding you when you tried to pay him for it. Robin would tease him for always giving you free ice cream, even though she would never let you pay either.

This time, though, nobody was up front when you walked in. You heard voices coming from the back room, deciding to go back there and find your friends. You walked in and saw Steve trying to shove Dustin into the vents, which was quite the sight.

You immediately asked them what the hell was going on, startling the three people back there who didn’t notice your entrance. Robin being Robin spilled everything about the Russian code to you then and there, despite the boys’ protests.

Steve wasn’t going to admit it, but he was terrified to get you involved. He didn’t want you getting hurt after getting dragged into the mess that was the code and the secret Russian base and everything that came with it. He just wanted you safe.

As Robin explained what was going on, Steve and Dustin also roped Erica Sinclair into their plan, not expecting it to go the way it did. You believed Robin, because who would be crazy enough to make a story like that up? And you decided to help, to join them after your shift for the plan.

All of that led you here, underground in some kind of crazy elevator that was not going to take you back up without a key card. It was a lot. It was your life now, though.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, that something as insane as a Russian presence was in Hawkins, of all places. Little did you know that an entire second dimension existed parallel to your home town.

Steve was freaking out more than he let on, he tried to stay calm for you, and for the others. Mostly for you, though. He had a crush on you as soon as you walked into Scoops the first time, and it had only grown alongside your friendship. He even caved and told Robin about it because he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, and he needed advice.

Maybe Robin wasn’t the best person to ask for advice, because all she did was call Steve a dingus and tease him for how he acted around you. How he was softer, more careful with you. How he couldn’t help but blush when you gave him that big smile of yours every time he had your ice cream ready at the counter. How he was in love with you and he never did anything about it.

Now he was here, with you, in an elevator, trapped. He was so nervous, not only were you now in danger, but so was everyone else. He never wanted you involved in the first place, but he was also grateful you were here. You were, like, crazy smart, at least, he thought so, and maybe you could figure out a way out of here together. A true team.

As the hours passed with no luck or chance of escape, everyone became tired and decided to lay down in various spots on the ground. Erica using her backpack as a pillow, Robin slouched against the wall, Dustin curled up in between boxes. You and Steve were sitting beside each other, using boxes as seats. It was quiet, nobody speaking because they were trying to get some sleep.

Dustin fell asleep before anyone else, snoring in his corner. Soon after, Erica and Robin were passed out as well. That left you and Steve. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn’t want to wake anyone up, so you nudged him softly and pointed up to the ceiling, silently telling him you were going to climb onto the top of the elevator and that he was welcome to join you.

Once you were settled and seated, you heard Steve moving up to join you. You sat with your knees pulled up, and he walked over to sit next to you, copying your position.

“So, looks like we could be trapped for a while.”

He was the first to speak up, talking softly to avoid having his voice echo too loud.

“I guess so.”

“Sorry you got dragged into all of this. I wish it was different.”

“I’m not. Sorry, I mean. I’m glad that you guys included me, even if it got me stuck in this shit hole.”

He couldn’t believe you were so calm. That you were able to keep it together even when you were stuck underground with this random group of people. He couldn’t deny that he was glad to be around you, though. That maybe he would get a chance to tell you how he felt. If he could just get the guts to do it.

You were happy to have any extra time with Steve, your short breaks from work would never be enough. Though, any fraction of time with Steve was something you’d think about for days afterwards. He never left your mind. He was so cute, clueless sometimes but in a way that was endearing. Despite the time you knew him being short, you knew he would be in your life for a very, very long time. You couldn’t picture it without him anymore. Not to mention the fact that you somehow fell in love with the dork in a sailor uniform.

“Really? Even if it’s dangerous and gross and we could be here for like ages?”

“It could be worse. I mean, I could be here without your company.”

That comment had his heart beating faster in his chest. You had that kind of effect on him. He soaked up everything you said to him, trying to remember every detail. How you pronounced things, how your mind worked. How pretty you looked when you were focusing, trying to remember the story you wanted to tell him about a customer at work.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to be stuck here with, I mean, I didn’t even get into college.”

“You can’t seriously think that. I don’t care if you got into school or not, I still think you’re a genius. Maybe not in certain subjects, but you’re still a smarty-pants to me.”

“Thanks. You’re like an actual genius though. I can’t believe you hang out with me.”

“Steve! Come on! I hang out with you because I want to. Because I lo-” you cleared your throat, trying to cover up that stumble. You couldn’t tell Steve yet, he would think you’re crazy. “Because I really like you. You’re a good person, Steve. I mean it.”

That meant so much to him. He thought so highly of you and he couldn’t believe that you liked him even a fraction of the amount that he liked you. But, if there was a chance you did, he was going to take it and roll with it.

“You know, this is gonna sound kinda weird, but the first time you walked into Scoops it kinda felt like the universe aligned. Like maybe I got that stupid job because it was how I’d end up meeting you.”

He was looking at you straight in the eyes as he spoke, showing you he was genuine and completely honest with his words. He wasn’t really thinking about what he was saying, letting his feelings spill out because now that he started, he wasn’t going to stop.

“You’re one of my best friends, y/n, and I’m really glad I met you. It’s like, when you first spoke to me, I was amazed. Like oh my gosh this is the prettiest girl I've ever seen and she just laughed at my dumb joke?? No way!”

You giggled at that, cheeks feeling warm because he called you pretty. “Steve, stop it!”

“I’m being serious!”

It was quiet for a few seconds after that, both of you thinking of something to say. You tugged on the sleeve of his sailor shirt, “You know, it’s funny. I’ve only ever seen you in this uniform. You pull it off, though. I don’t know how but I think you look hot in it.”

“No way! You think I’m hot? This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re such a dork. You’re lucky I love you.”

“What did you just say?”

Oh no. Did you really just let it slip like that? He probably thought you were such a weirdo for being in love with him. This was not going to go well.

“Um… that you’re a dork?”

He shook his head, smiling at you. He was so happy. But he needed to hear it again, to know you meant it. That it wasn’t just a slip-up, that you loved him like he loved you.

“Uh uh, the other thing.”

“Gosh you probably think this is weird right? But yeah. I love you. I’m in love with you. Feels like I have been since you first greeted me with the word ‘ahoy’ isn’t that something?”

His smile was growing the more you spoke. You, the prettiest girl in the world, in love with him? This was the best day of his life. Even if he was stuck underground. He was stuck with you, and he hoped that he could stay with you forever.

“You know, I’m in love with you, too. Isn’t that something?”

“You mean it?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t, baby.”

“Okay.”

And then you were kissing, your hands framing his face and his holding onto your wrists. It was perfect, no matter where you were. Everything disappeared as the two of you kissed. Nothing else mattered. Just you and him, in love and intertwined.

Steve was so incredibly happy, his entire body buzzing at the feel of your lips on his and your hands on his face. You held him softly, but enough that he could feel it. He didn’t think any feeling in the world could ever top this one.

It was the feeling of Christmas morning, of jumping in the pool on a hot summer day, of the sun coming out after the longest thunderstorm.

You pulled away from him to look at his face, and his expression was nothing but fondness, nothing but love. You pecked his lips again before resting your head on his shoulder, leaning into him slightly.

He kissed the top of your head and rested his head on yours.

“When we get out of here I’m gonna take you on the best date ever, baby.”

“I believe it. Where are we gonna go?”

He told you his plan, how he’d take you to a nice dinner then to the drive in, telling you you’d finally get to see him out of the damn sailor uniform. That you could hang out without Robin and her teasing and rambling, even though you both enjoyed her company.

When he finished telling you his plan, he realized you fell asleep. You felt at peace with him, and you were finally able to rest. In love, calm, and excited to be back above ground so you could go on that date.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

hi i was wondering if you could do something with steve harrington x gender neutral reader and sharing a bed for the first time? maybe the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope? either way, i’d just love to share a bed with him :) thank u!

Man, I love this trope because there's so many different ways I can build around this. Love love love this request so THANK YOU.

Also this gif is an honorable mention. I had to use it because this is how I feel looking at him :D

"When Dustin said that he had a guest room for us to stay in, I was not expecting this." Steve mutters beside me, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. All of the other kids are down the hall in the living room, curled up on the floor surrounding each other with someone on watch each hour. Dustin was keen on Steve and I getting rest since we're the 'adults' of the group but I think his plan all along was to just get us alone.

With Vecna going around snapping people in half, the buddy system was a safe thing to put in place and after mine and Steve's hour long conversation about our favorite songs, it seems only accurate that we would be paired up.

But that doesn't mean it's not nerve wracking looking at the twin sized bed in front of me, realizing that Dustin expected Steve and I to share it.

"I think the dickhead had other selfish motives." Steve chuckles and steps into the room, stretching his shoulders as I awkwardly watch him walk around the room. Biting back my embarrassment, I shut the door behind me and I clear my throat, setting my backpack down at the end of the bed.

"This isn't weird, right? I mean we're both adults..." He trails off, looking back at me and I nod, but it's not convincing, it's anxious and I'm sure I'm radiating nervous energy. "We're both adults, right?"

"Adults who can platonically share a bed, you mean?" I ask, sitting down on the squeaky mattress and I fight the urge to laugh out loud. Dustin really did have other plans that had nothing to do with rest.

"I mean, we are in a life or death situation here. Sharing a bed is the least of our concerns." He shrugs nonchalantly but I can tell that he's nervous by the way that he rakes his fingers through his hair and the way he bites at the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, you're right." I nod, folding my hands in my lap as he makes his way over to the bed beside me. "Right?" I laugh and he quickly blows out a breath, scoffing as he covers his red cheeks with his hands.

"I don't know."

We spend the next few minutes getting ready for bed in silence before slipping under the covers, my heart skipping a beat every time his arm brushes against me. I can feel the heat radiating off of him even though he's inches away and I can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat every time that I move in the small space.

He's flustered.

"I thought you were much more sly than this, Harrington. Can't share a bed with an attractive person?" He scoffs at my teasing words and I can barely make out his eyes rolling in the dark room. He doesn't reply for a moment, just listens to the TV playing down the hall.

"Shut up, dipshit." He chuckles and I grin at his sad comeback but loving the way a bright smile spreads across his lips. "This was arranged by Dustin, for this reason- to make me all panicky and shit- he always does this." He rolls over onto his side to face me, his hands smushed between his cheek and the pillow so cutely. I mirror him, rolling onto my side as our knees brush against each other.

"Why? Does he know something that I don't?" I ask quietly, my shaky voice barely coming out. His brows lift a bit, almost as if he's taken back by my question but I've known for some time that he's felt more than friendship for me between the fleeting glances and awkward jokes.

"Maybe." He bites at his lip, drawing my gaze down to his lips and my whole body heats up ten times more than it already was, even with the window cracked a bit and the fresh air flowing into the tense room. "Fact of the matter is, he's been trying to force me into along time with you cuz I'm just a 'pussy'- that's what he constantly calls me." He laughs and my heart warms at his explanation, his eyes bashfully looking anywhere but my eyes.

"I'm not scary." My hand finds his between us, thumb brushing over his and he just smiles softly and few moments pass by before he snorts.

"I'm laying five inches away from you in Dustin Henderson's guest room. I can't tell if this is a wet dream or a nightmare."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee

[bitchkay]

more court of darkness headcanons cus I just thought of them☆

No litgit nothing prompted this, I'm literally taking a shit rn-

Cuddling with your paramour♡

*Random order*

Lynt💚

He's just a cuddler in general♡

Just loves having you close to him

Sleeps exponentially better with you in his arms

You are each others blankets.

Either he's on top of you or you're on top of him, no in between

Will trap you in his arms.

This mf is skinny and barely eats, it's scary how strong his hold is on you

He'd be dead asleep and you still can't crawl your way out

You'd deadass be wanting to pee and he'd still have you locked in, even if he wakes up and finds out you need to pee, you are not going to the bathroom by yourself I'm sorry, he won't let go

He's like a big boney teddy bear tho🥺🥺/j

Knight💙

So scared the first time you shared a bed

Was deadass on the very edge of the bed damn near falling off and still wondering if you had enough space

Was also afraid if you didn't like to be touched when you sleep so he was like curled up in a ball until you physically had to tug him over to you

Once yall got comfortable he was alot more natural

yall hold hands in your sleep♡

yall just sleeping with yall fingers laced together, holding tight enough you couldn't be separated if you tried❤

Big spoon.

Will not let himself be little spoon, HAS to be big spoon

Don't matter if you bigger than him or smaller then him, he is big spoon.

Will panic if he wakes up and you're not there, but finds out you just went to make breakfast for him and his heart melts♡

Fenn💜

You don't even get a choice whether or not you wanna cuddle he'll have his hands on you one way or another

One of those things where you're just like 'oh...alright then, not what I asked for but I like this too'

Will genuinely have trouble sleeping if you're not in his arms

Likes when you lay your head on his chest

Fingers will in fact wonder, however nothing more than harmless touches

If them touches become a little less then innocent just smack him and tell him to go to bed

Toa💙

A little stiff at first tbh

Not used to 1. sharing his bed and 2. being this close to another person nonsexually

Gets use to it quickly

Just wants to hold you

He likes when you fall asleep on his stomach while hes reading in the evening before bed

I mean he likes when you're on top of him in genera--

Roy💛

Has no particular preference as long as your comfortable

Can actually sleep in any position

Likes being big spoon and little spoon

likes having you as a backpack*cough* nipples on his back *cough cough*

First time he let you be big spoon it happened to be kinda cold so..

He was like yk what this is nice😼

Loves waking up to you in the morning♡

"Good morning Heartspell~"

Lots of pillow talk

Will drag things out until he absolutely needs to get out of the bed

Morning sex.

Guy❤

Another that won't really give you a choice, you just are going to cuddle

There's no 'let's cuddle' or 'go to bed', he'll just take you there and you'll be so confused until he's like 'aren't you coming🤨'

Guy is secretly a baby.

Don't even try getting out of the damn bed before him, he'll be in a bad mood the rest of the day

Acting like you were tryna leave him like no n👨🏿‍🦲gga I just need to shit

Tino💚

So cute

Forehead kisses before bed

Defaulted to spooning but likes when you lay on top of him

He likes being able to see your face but prefers to spoon you

Big spoon cus he thinks you just fit so perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces♡

Loves when you lay on top of him, between his legs, dick on your stomach and everything

The dick on stomach part is important.

Lance♡

thought people only cuddled after sex-

thought you were tryna start sum

I mean you were bout it but--

Affectionate neck kisses>>>>>>

Will sacrifice the circulation in his arm for you.

Likes laying facing each other, legs tangled up together

His morning voice😩😩>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Tiredly whispering sweet nothings to you while half asleep

TIRED LANCE SUPREMACY‼‼

Morning sex.

Grayson💛

Sleep talker but it's cute

Mumbles your name or words of affection in his sleep

Will either fall asleep on da breast or with a handful of breast, no in between.

likes laying on top of you

At first he was like 'am I heavy🥺🥺🥺' now it's just automatic

You're gonna look at that man and tell me he doesn't like boobies🤨🤨

Perfect pillows, perfect stress balls

We love a titty lover😤✊🏽

If we talking more specifically to me then top surgery scars. He'd give each a nice kiss before bed and settle for a pillow until you're healed♡

BOOBIES SUPREMACY‼‼

Big boobies, small boobies, no boobies, all boobies

If you're insecure, he'll hit you with a 'boobs are boobs😐 goodnight☺️🖐🏽🍒'

A tittys a titty and imma take em😼😼

Rio🧡

Cuddling is his default

Will in fact sacrifice his comfort for yours

Want him to lay on top of you? he will lay on top of you

Want to lay on top of him? he'll let you lay on on top of him

Secretly loves being little spoon-

This man is tall and fucking buff, this man is literally huge but guess what, he wants you to hold him.

Loves being big spoon cus it feels like he's protecting you but being little spoon just does something to his heart♡

Sometimes can't deal with being big spoon cus sometimes you'll push back on him a little too much and then suddenly he's horny--

Dia💚

Surprisingly nonchalant about it

However is actually screaming inside.

Never really directly cuddling but you wake up in each others arms

It was just meant to happen

if you're in his bed, best believe he took a nice extra long shower

It's not even like he's expecting anything he's just nervous

What if you laid down next to him and he smelled like dirt

After the first time he's cool tho

He deadass just gets in bed and opens the covers, that's your invitation.

Little spoon asf

He likes when you rest you head on his back

He just likes when your arms are wrapped around him♡

If I remember correctly Dias bed is against the wall

yall sleep facing the wall.

Violet💜

God I love women so much.

Violet sleepover??😳✂️✂️

Anyway, Violet would hold on to you for dear life-

Similarly to Lynt that girl is not letting go

But yk what I'm ok with suffocating between her breasts, that sounds like a happy death

Cuddling with Violet is actually very comforting

I feel like she has a very nurturing touch

Very protective

She makes sure you're comfortable before falling asleep herself

call me when they give Violet a route cus I will be waiting.

Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sor--

Thoma🧡

Petition to give Thoma a consort path go-

I love Thoma so much I wanna kiss him on the lips😥❤

I feel like Thoma sleeps wide like sprawled out on the bed, like taking up all the space

The only chance to cuddle him is to be on top of him

like you just crawl onto his chest and get comfortable

But if you're with him he might curl into you a bit

Still wide but yk he has a hand on your back or with his arms around your middle

Sleeping with Thoma would be very calming

After a long day you just craw into bed with him and are just lulled into sleep by the sound of his slowing heartbeat

Omg I wanna see Thoma without his ponytail

I wanna play with his hair

If Thoma doesn't get a route I'll cry, like I'll literally start sobbing rn. /j but actually /srs

Sherry💛

I love women.

Sherry do you wanna makeout--

Sherry would be so soft with you omg

She's just doting on you before bed

Makes sure you had dinner, did your night routine, always makes sure you have a glass of water

I love her so much I wanna get married😥❤

Sherry sleeps with her head on your shoulder curled into your side with an arm draped over your stomach

Yall lowkey be holding hands in your sleep

I can imagine Roy or someone coming to check on her and yall just curled up together fast asleep and holding hands, and it's just the most heartwarming image ever

Oh my god my heart hurts😣💞

We should all be in agreement that Sherry needs a route by now

We're all gay- and it's pride month too that's homophob--

This was longer than I thought it would be lol

[kissmejinx]

How Arcane characters cuddle with you

Arcane x GN reader

Just fluff

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor

Jinx

Cuddling with Jinx in bed is an awfully rare occasion, but she loves it when you two cuddle in her work shop. If you do end up cuddling in bed, she likes to be lying on top of you, like a blanket. She likes to have her face in your chest, whether you have boobs or not.

She has a nest of pillows and blankets in her workshop (just in case she gets tired and doesn't want to walk back to her room) and she'll often just plop down in your lap while fiddling with something and expect you to cuddle with her

Play with her hair. Please 🥺🥺🥺🥺, she will literally melt. Un braid it, re braid it or do whatever, just put your hands in her fucking hair. Bonus points for top of the head kisses

Oh-- yeah no it's ok, just don't you dare stop toots. Yes I'll be ab- able to work just do- don't stop.

Vi

Did someone say big spoon? Because she's a big spoon. She just wants to feel you safely wrapped up in her arms, to feel your breath against her neck. She also wants to be facing you, always. No matter what, she needs to be able to see you. She'll trace your face with her hands and It'll be the most relaxed you've ever seen her.

She'll cuddle anywhere, and I mean anywhere. At the Last Drop and having a few drinks? You get pulled up onto her lap while she talks with a friend. Coming home from work? She'll pull you into the bedroom just to lie and face each other.

She also loves to watch you sleep. Not like a creepy way, she just is amazed that you feel safe enough around her to fall asleep. Will also love it if you fall asleep with your head in her lap

Shhhh…. It's okay, cupcake just let me look at you. I don't wanna be anywhere else but here

Caitlyn

Likes to cuddle with you by putting your head in her chest. Did I mention that this woman is 6 ft tall… because 🥵🥵🥵🥵. Her boobs are the best pillows there ever will be. Likes to stroke your hair and play with it

You two don't get to cuddle often, what with her work as an enforcer and the general turmoil that Piltover and the Undercity have been in, so whenever she gets the opportunity, she savors it like nothing else. At this point just giving you an extended hug will satisfy her cuddling needs.

She will turn beet red if you big spoon her, she's so tall that she's not used to it. She still prefers to be the big spoon but won't object to you backpacking her

Come here love, I just want to… ah, there you are~ if I'm being honest I've missed this

Ekko

Hammock cuddles! Hammock cuddles! Hammock cuddles! I headcanon that the Firelights base's rooms are mostly hammocks with little walkways to connect them. Think like rainforest treehouse chic. And Ekko's is in the little rock shelf near the sky, one because it's the closest thing to privacy he'll get and two because he's able to overlook the entire base.

That being said, his greatest joy in life (besides helping people) is curling up in a hammock with you, so tightly wrapped up in each other that he can't see where you stop and he begins. He also loves it when you sit on his lap facing him, whether you're just hanging off him like a koala or doing his face paint (see my headcanon about that in the how Arcane characters tease you)

Also loves to compare hand sizes while you're cuddling, just let him touch your fingers, he will absolutely die if your hand is smaller than his.

I just like seeing everything y'know, not that it ain't because you're here, that's just an added bonus

Jayce

Controversial opinion but let him rest his head in your lap. I'm pretty sure he did it with Mel but I'd have to go back and look. This poor little (6'7) subby himbo just wants to lay his head on your thighs and have you run your hands through his hair.

Likes to cuddle shirtless, skin on skin contact is a must for him. Even if you're only comfortable with wearing a tank top, he'll still want every inch of skin available pressed to his. I think that even though he was given a lot of love, he's always been very touch oriented. His love language is physical contact. And nowhere does that reflect more than in your cuddling (well… maybe in other things 😉)

He likes to trace the veins on the inside of your arm, and much like Ekko he likes to compare hand sizes. Unless you're like even more of a giant than he is your hands will probably be smaller. Also would die if he felt your breath against his collar bone

C'mon baby, I just wanna feel you. What? No I know you're too tired for that, I just like to…. Uhh… I like to feel your skin

Viktor

Viktor is very hesitant to cuddle with you. He knows he's bony and sharp and has to lay very specifically to make sure his leg doesn't burn with pain and that isn't very conducive to cuddling. He's also never felt very confident in his body, and the idea that you might be unsatisfied with his abilities scares him.

But if you do ever convince him to cuddle, he'll want to be the big spoon. Even if you're taller than him, he just doesn't want to take the chance poking you in the stomach with his bony elbows. He likes it if you're facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and entangling his good leg with yours.

He's also a fan of sitting you in between his legs while he's tinkering with something, explaining to you along the way.

Here, душа моя, is where the problem is, I just can't figure out vat is wrong with it. I promise we can touch more in bed after I do