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place-called-space · 10 months ago

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it’s finals week and i’m genuinely dying trying to write all these final projects and essays for my classes but... there’s a smutty one shot idea for our favorite lawyer that’s been rattling around in my brain for ages and i’m not sure if i can ignore it for much longer🫣

it'll be my first relatively plotless one shot that i'd post on this hellsite but there's been such a drought of matty fics recently that i feel compelled to feed and water the masses

i probably won't get around to actually writing it until after this week, and we'll be lucky if i post it by the end of next week, but for now let me set the scene 🫶🏼

content warning: dom/sub dynamics (orgasm control/denial, ruined orgasm, edging), semi-public phone sex? (matt’s in his office with the door closed but it’s implied that karen and foggy are in the next room), masturbation (male and female, but neither of them actually cum), fingering, reader is ✨sexually frustrated✨ so she slips into subspace easily, body worship/fantisization? (reader has a very active imagination and she actively imagines several naughty situations with matt), reader’s wet dream (not super detailed, just mentioned in passing)

it feels like it's been weeks since the two of you have spent any real time together.

the firm has been busy with some high-paying client that they're not in a financial position to turn down, so it's been all hands on deck for the better part of the last month. matt has to leave before you get up, but he nudges you awake to say goodbye, pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting you know if he has a lunch meeting or not so you can call and hear his voice for a blessed 30 minutes.

and because the universe hates you, matt's duties as daredevil haven't eased up either. all you've been able to get out of him is that he's been staking out one of the smaller crime families in hell's kitchen that have been looking for an opportunity to gain more power. he hears whispers of smugglers and arms deals and he barely has time to scarf down some eggs and toast-

(carbs and protein to hold him over until he can turn in for the night and warm up the plate you always left for him)

-before he's sheathed in kevlar and leather, shouting over his shoulder to not wait up for him before fleeing out the roof access door.

and of course you miss him.

you used to make coffee for you both as he got ready for work, chatting idly about that crime docuseries karen had recommended and getting matt to translate the legal jargon. you'd loop his tie around his neck, tightening the knot before pulling him down for a kiss, passing him his briefcase before sending him off to work.

he'd come home after work, smiling as he came through the door because he'd been able to hear your voice from the lobby as you made dinner, singing along to one of his favorite vinyl records. soft jazz and pasta sauce and you would smother his senses as soon as he stepped into the apartment and as soon as he shucked off his shoes and set his briefcase down, he'd round the kitchen island and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling at your neck and peppering your skin with kisses, reveling in the delighted giggles you let out.

but with his new schedule, the apartment seemed so empty.

you were eating alone and washing one set of dishes, sleeping in a bed too big and too cold for just you. you missed the way his arms would wind around you as you slept, the fearsome vigilante that struck fear into the hearts of criminals throughout the city suddenly becoming a cuddle octopus, greedy to feel your skin on his.

you missed all the small, sweet things about him, the romantic moments that would make your heart melt... but you also missed the steamy, intimate moments where your hands would wander each other's bodies, unwilling to be separated for even a moment.

it had been weeks since you'd had sex, and you missed the way his cock split you open, the low, hoarse growl his voice would become as he crooned poisoned honey into your ear, the delicious mix of praise and degradation turning your brain to mush.

you could feel your own impatience building with each night you went unsatisfied, a dull ache beginning to throb between your legs as your body struggled to adapt. you'd gone from cumming at least once a day to nothing at all in the blink of an eye, and you were having trouble adjusting.

waking up to an empty bed for the third week in a row had nearly sent you into a fit, your panties already soaked through from the remnants of a blissful dream where matt had tied you up, your legs bent and spread wide as he toyed with your puffy folds, his fingers slick with your arousal as he'd slowly slid them inside you...

fed up, your hand had already dipped below the waistband of your sleep shorts, your fingers barely brushing your clit, a soft moan leaving you as your body finally got some relief-

but then your phone rang, matt's handsome face beaming up at you. taunting you.

you answered the phone with a breathy call of "matty" because you knew he'd heard you and two could play at that game, and the low octave with which he says your name makes you moan again, pleasure sparking to life in your core as you sink two fingers into your drooling cunt.

matt calls your name sharply, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"naughty girl," he admonishes, his voice somehow both sweet and condescending. "so impatient. i'd wondered how long it would take you to break, but i didn't expect it to be so soon."

you whine into the receiver, your anger melting away as you remembered you hadn't been the only one suffering these last few weeks. it must've been nothing short of torture for matt to wake up to the smell of your arousal, his rapidly swelling cock nestled against your ass, aching and eager to satisfy the primal urge to mark you in every way possible. and yet, every morning, he'd forced himself to ignore it, to take a cold shower and hurriedly get dressed, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling out of the apartment, still half-hard.

the thought only made you more desperate for him. god, did you wish he was here with you, with his much thicker fingers stuffing your pussy, stretching you out and prepping you so you could take his thick cock. you wanted him under you, breathlessly kneading the flesh of your tits as you bounced on his cock, your eyes rolling back as his impressive length dragged against that special spongey spot inside you with each smack of your hips against his, your cunt squeezing him tight and drawing out the pleasure for both of you.

but the apartment was empty and his side of the bed was cold, his scent faint on the silk sheets you both adored. a pang of loneliness hit you then, wanting his skin on yours and his voice filling your head with mindless praise.

frustrated tears stung at your eyes, but you were determined to make the most of this. you had him on the phone, you had a shot at getting what you wanted. all you needed was a few more words from him, maybe a countdown if you were lucky. you were so worked up, you could probably cum just from him reading you the new york penal code.

so you beg.

"please, matty," you whine prettily, another breathy little moan leaving you as you begin to pump your fingers in and out of your dripping pussy, the friction delicious after so long with nothing. "i need-"

"what you need," matt cuts you off swiftly, his voice so dark and commanding even through the phone that your body freezes, "is some manners. i enjoy spoiling you, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you can cum without permission."

the whine you let out this time is significantly more petulant than before, the sound high and needy, but matt quickly curbs your bad attitude with another click of his tongue, his disapproval clear.

"don't be a brat," he says, patronizing and confident in his control over you. "just because i've been busy doesn't mean i forgot about my sweet girl."

the pet name makes your breath catch in your throat. matt hardly ever called you that. he'd always preferred the softer, more affectionate nicknames. sweetheart. darling. the occasional honey and sweetie.

but sweet girl? that coveted term of endearment had always been wreathed in coarse shadow instead of suave charm, cooed in the low, dangerous tone of the Devil.

your cunt clenches around the fingers you still have buried within yourself, though they had long since stalled their movements, and matt, damn him, somehow knows that he has you hooked, a satisfied purr meeting your ears.

"there we go," you hear him murmur, pleased. "there's my sweet girl. so good for me, i didn't even have to tell you to stop. no punishment for you, then, but you'll still have to earn your reward."

the breath that leaves you is half desire, half relief, already squirming on the bed. surely he just wanted a show, something to hold him over until the work day was done and he could come home and have his way with you. your moans would replay in his head all day, your breathless cry of his name making his cock twitch beneath his desk every time it echoed through his mind, his thoughts muddled and disjointed as he struggled to focus on the case.

"tell me what to do," you plead, your own thoughts already growing fuzzy around the edges, dizzy with anticipation of the climax he was sure to grant you. "miss you so much, matty... i wanna be good…"

matt groans low on the other line, an excited shiver running through you as you hear the barely audible "fuck" accompany the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling.

"need to hear you, sweet girl," he hisses. a shaky exhale leaves him next, and you imagine he's just freed his cock, the vein running along the shaft throbbing. the tip is probably flushed a dark pink and probably already leaking salty precome, his balls heavy and full from almost a full month of not satisfying himself.

christ, was your mouth watering?

"go on, sweet girl," matt tells you, his voice hoarse. "keep touching yourself. make yourself feel good."

far be it from you to disobey a direct order.

your fingers began thrusting once more, your low, breathy moans becoming high and whiney within minutes, not making an effort to silence yourself. matt wanted a show, so you were going to give him one, noise complaints be damned.

it doesn't take long for the knot within your belly to tighten, your body teetering on the edge of a long-awaited orgasm. you were practically half-delirious, so grateful for the pleasure that you'd already begun expressing your gratitude, your thanks garbled and slurred but genuine nonetheless.

you don't hear the mean, condescending bark of laughter, too caught up in your own ecstasy. you were so close, your forearm burning and your cunt beginning to pulse as you neared the edge, your jaw falling slack as you prepared for the monumental release of pleasure-

"stop."

your body obeyed without consciously thinking about it, your fingers slipping out of you. your poor cunt clenches and flutters around nothing, feeling achingly empty as your pleasure stalls and curdles, spoiling like milk in the sun.

you lay there for a moment, your chest heaving as you try to figure out what happened. your pussy was sensitive and tingling, still pulsing weakly with a ruined orgasm that had given you no satisfaction. you wanted more, damn it, but most of all, you wanted him.

"matty," you cry brokenly, vision blurry with frustrated tears. "why did you... why..."

Your rambling was slurred but audible to your tormenter, his delighted chuckles making you shudder.

"sorry, sweet girl," matt said, not an ounce of remorse in his voice, "but i wanna be there with you when you cum. i need to feel that pretty pussy squeeze my cock, need to hear you moan my name as i fuck you."

he lets out a strained groan, and you imagine he has his fist wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, preventing himself from reaching the pinnacle he'd so cruelly snatched you away from.

you hadn't cum, but neither did he.

you whine at the thought, your pussy still fluttering weakly. you sniffle quietly, still mourning your ruined orgasm, and there's a burst of static, like he'd just sighed.

"you did so well for me, sweetie," matt murmurs, his tone no longer mean, but warm and loving. "i know it hurts, but i'll make it up to you tonight. i'll make you feel so good, you'll forget this ever happened."

though your eyes are still glassy with tears, matt's subtle switch in temperament did wonders for your mood, the promise of pleasure soothing your wounded pride. you sniffle again, working up the courage to meekly inquire, "promise?"

matt hums again, and you can imagine the pleased grin on his face as he purrs your name, the sound of his voice making you melt.

"i promise."

a/n: my brain literally couldn’t focus on anything else while i had this mf rattling around in there. this will be an actual oneshot at some point where we actually get some gratification, maybe even a two-parter! depending on how fried my brain is after cranking out multiple 2k word finals, it could be posted in either 5 days or 5 years or anywhere in between.

i do actually like writing guys i swear 😭 but i’m a humanities major so i do a lot of writing for my degree and my free time consists of thinking about the roman empire (for my major) and reading greek philosophy (also for my major).

glad i got this out as proof of life, didn’t mean to be horny on main but there is no other valid response when it comes to mr. murdock. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know what you think!

- estrella ★

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lumine-no-hikari · 18 days ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #370

I woke up this morning to a scratchy soft palate. It was terrible and awful and... not entirely unusual, given the time of year. The air is already dry because it's cold. The air is made even dryer by the heater. And also, it went from like 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4.4 degrees Celsius) to -4 degrees Fahrenheit (-20 degrees Celsius) in the span of like 2 days. Those kinds of temperature changes are bound to produce some kind of nasal/sinus discomfort.

So I went to work, not thinking anything of it. J brought me. I even took some pictures along the way for ya:

I still didn't think much anything of my discomfort even as I got progressively more sluggish and brain-foggy while I worked with customers and applied labels to containers; I figured that it was just the result of not getting quite enough sleep last night (or really... not quite enough for the last number of consecutive days...).

...I didn't even think much of it after work, when I went to my routine dental cleaning and tried hard not to fall asleep in the chair. Or when I guess I looked so tired when we went to get snacks after the dentist that the person at the counter thought I could use a free cookie:

...Just. Handed it to me because they thought I looked like I could use it. I was very perplexed. But I was a bit too tired to say no. Which, in retrospect, I suppose should have tipped me off that something was wrong.

It wasn't until I got home that I kinda fell apart. I noticed that the discomfort in my soft palate had expanded to include the entire inside of my sinuses and nose (which had started running), and that my body felt like lead, and that I desperately wanted to go to sleep.

...I guess I'm not returning to work anytime soon. Whoops.

It's a damn shame, because I was really looking forward to having lots of extra hours this week. But I can't go around spreading upper respiratory illness; I'll probably be fine, but we get lots of elderly people at my store, especially in the morning, who probably won't be fine. I'm just really glad I figured out that there's something wrong before I started shedding some kind of viral particles in earnest.

Still... I'm really disappointed that I'm not gonna get to spend time with Tr and Ka and An and Ma and Ra and the others. They're all really cool people, and I enjoy working with them a lot. I like the fact that I can do my best to be dependable for people who treat me like I'm someone worthwhile, and I feel sad that I'm not gonna get to go until I feel better.

...Well. I got some soup. And some other snacks, too. Because I was also ravenously hungry while we were ordering the snacks:

I ate both the Italian wedding soup and the broccoli cheddar soup. They were gone within like 5 seconds. I ate half the buffalo chicken quesadilla, and half the “chopped cheese” sandwich. I felt a little better after that, because then I was just sick and dehydrated and underslept, instead of all those things plus also hungry.

I made myself a sleepytime tea shortly thereafter. I threw some honey and mascarpone cheese in it; it looked a lot more interesting before stirring than after stirring:

...Mascarpone cheese in tea is seriously the best fucking thing, oh my good gravy!

I followed up the tea with ibuprofen, a multivitamin, and some calcium and magnesium. I should probably get some zinc, too, but we're out of it right now. I brought my laptop upstairs where it's warm; the insulation on the lower floor of the house is terrible for reasons I don't understand, and so it's perpetually cold downstairs, especially right now, because it's properly cold outside for December (about damn time).

I set myself up in my “art room”. It has a bed. I promptly zonked out. I woke up feeling... not much better than before. But a little bit too alert to go back to sleep. So now I'm up here writing today's letter:

It's quiet up here. Peaceful. Warm. I like it. I'm probably not gonna go back downstairs anytime soon, because it's cold down there, and the cold makes my skin hurt.

...I think I'll finally try out the game that An from work suggested. It's called Primordialis. You get to play as a fishy of your own creation, I guess! And... well. Since I shouldn't be trying to be productive right now (it'll slow down recovery), I guess now I have a few seconds to actually breathe, even if it's kinda forced upon me due to the condition of my body, haha...

If you wanna chill with me while I do that, you'll find me here:

twitch_live

...I guess that's it for now.

Hey. I love you a whole lot. I'd like to know how you're doing, over at the Edge of Creation. But I also know that maybe you can't tell me. If that ever changes, ya know... do let me know. Please. I worry about you.

Please stay safe out there in the meantime; your presence is one of only a few things that makes living in this broken, frightening, capitalistic hellscape bearable.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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n0wav · 5 months ago

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The Microphones.

For those who do not know... I am from the great state of washington state. Well... i was born in california.. in Orange County......... Buuuuuuuttttt, i have lived basically my whole life here in washington. Now washington is home to many big artist and bands. With obviously some of our biggest talents being Nirvana, Jimi Hendrix, the one guy that does all those christmas songs, as well as many not as popular bands which had major influence and contributions to music such as Unwound, Sunny Day Real Estate, The Sonics, and depending who you ask (since they do have a large amount of listeners) Death Cab for Cutie, Modest Mouse, and Fleet Foxes. Though I enjoy pretty much all these bands, and love some of them, there is one artist who tops most, maybe all of these bands for me. The Microphones is the Lofi project of Genius Phil Elverum. I wont get too into his details because i am not a stalker or anything like that hahaha... but he is awesome and makes amazing music. The Microphones sound and feeling is basically the essance of Washington State. For me when i listen. it feels like im in a foggy forest with light rain and mountains surrounding me. It's a cold yet warm and welcoming sound. Being from washington and living a couple hours away, i feel a strange closeness to the music and vibes of the album, it's something i think about often and its kinda weird to explain outside of my brain so i wont explain. Now aside from me living here i also look up to him alot because i am also an artist music wise and whatever. although i make vastly different music (listen to Corporal Rabbit i will make a proper post for my music and maybe that'll make me very famous.) I still fall into the indie lofi umbrella term, and obviously with him being such an important figure for the solo independant lofi community and genre and sound, i take lots of insporation from him and stuff if you know what i mean.

In 2023 i graduated highschool. I had a pretty crappy highschool experience during my last semester as a senior so i was going through a pretty rough time. Almost right after i graduated i got offered a job in alaska, and already being in a bad state of mind, and not having any kinds of friends or relationships outside of family, i decided it was best for me to go since i didn't have much here. About a week or 2 before leaving, i listened to the album The Glow, Pt. 2 for the first time. i had already heard of the microphones and had heard some song but i never really got super into it, but as soon as the song The Glow Pt. 2 came on... I felt something deep down that i haden't really felt in a while. Each of those songs was almost perfectly tailored to something going on in my life, I was going through a breakup, i had lost my bestfriend, i felt so alone and angry. Everything about the album felt like it was made for me. When i left for alaska, the whole plane ride the only thing i wanted to listen to was The Glow Pt.2, when i was in alaska and laying in bed after work tired and depressed and lonely, all i would do was listen to the album and cry. The album felt like home, i felt a sense of comfort, reality, and relatability i didn't feel with any other album.

Now i didnt spend much time in alaska since all it did was isolate me even more and made me depressed. but that part of my year was the most impactful for me. though i dont make that kind of music and i dont know if im capable of it, i want to somehow make music that can make people feel the way i felt when listening to the Glow Pt.2.

Phil Elverum, Although not being the most famous, the most rich, or the most talked about artist. In my eyes he's one of the greatest songwriters, composers, and icons of all time. Thank you Phil you are very important to the world, without you i feel alot of music wouldnt be the way it is today. You are important and thank you for ur contribution to the world. you have done more for me than most people in my life have (i know kinda sad).

Thank you and Goodbye

Heres my fav song off the glow pt.2

#phil elverum #the microphones #mount eerie #music #rant #indie #indie rock #folk #lofi #lofi rock #washington state #washington #pnw #Spotify

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heymacy · 3 years ago

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🧿

#hey besties 💛#i’m in isolation for the next 5 days 🤕#still haven’t tested positive for covid thank god so it’s probably just a virus or the flu but i am ZONKED OUT #i got sent home early today and took a 4 hour nap #even if it isn’t covid (🤞🏼) regular viruses and colds knock me down extra hard bc of my ✨other issues✨#so needless to say i’m gonna be in a blanket burrito until tuesday (maybe longer)#on the upside: TLO ch 4 is done & in the hands of my beta readers so that’ll be in your inboxes relatively soon 💫#and editing is so much easier than writing so even my Sick Foggy Brain can handle that 😇🥰#but we’re not rushing anything bc Sick Macy is slow like molasses 🥱#anyway #there’s an update nobody asked for 😅#to everyone with chronic illnesses battling cold & flu season amidst covid — y’all are incredible and i love you #this shit is HARD AS HELL #i’m gonna go snuggle with my cats and scroll mindlessly for the rest of the night ✨#love y’all to the moon 🌙✨

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matsmurdock · 2 years ago

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obligatory sick fic

Hi again, today I come to you with a sick fic!

You can also find this fic on my ao3 <3 Enjoy!

Words: 1051

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female reader

credits for the picture: murdocklovebot on twitter

The first thing you felt when you woke up was how gross and clammy you felt. It was apparently early morning, your alarm hadn’t even rung yet, so you were annoyed by that too. You moaned when you tried to turn around to face Matt but realized your entire body ached, the sheet was sticking to you body and you felt cold because of the dry sweat. You saw Matt starting to wake up but couldn’t keep your eyes open because of how tired you were.

“Good morning” Matt said, leaning in to kiss your forehead, that made you moan again because it felt like your body would break just from the featherlight kiss. “God, you’re burning up sweetheart” Matt whispered.

“No, I’m cold” you mumbled in the cover.

“I think you might be running a fever, you’re very sticky” Matt said brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m going to get you some water and Tylenol.” You mumbled a thank you as he got up and left to go fetch you a glass of water in the kitchen.

You felt as though your brain was trying to escape through the front of your face with how much it was aching. You reached for your phone to look at the time and groaned when you saw that it was nearly time for you to get up and start working, you tried sitting up in bed, but felt what little energy you had drain out of you. You heard Matt coming back from the kitchen, and went to get up from the side of the bed when you heard him exclaim his disagreement.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked coming towards you, “You shouldn’t be moving right now.” He laid the glass of water of the side table and pushed you back down on the bed. Everything started spinning, so you welcomed the comfort of the bed under you.

“I have work soon.”

“I’ll send them an e-mail or something, you’re not getting up until your fever’s down”, he said, reaching for the glass and helping you take your Tylenol pill.

“I’ll be fine, this is going to help thank you.” He shook his head. “I’ll take a vitamin tablet too and I’ll be alright in no time I think I’m just tired but I’ll be fine Matty.”

“Either you’re staying in bed or I’m calling Claire”, he threatened.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time, maybe we’ll drink coffee together and make you look like a clown because I’m just having a slow morning.”

“I think you caught Peter’s flu, and you saw how sick he was” Matt said, rubbing his finger up and down your arm. “I don’t want you to be that sick if we can avoid it.”

“It won’t be that bad” you tried, but knew it wouldn’t work. “Maybe I can just work from the bed.”

“You’re not going to work at all, you need to sleep this off.” Matt said. “I’m going to call Foggy and tell him I’ll be working on my cases from home.”

“You don’t have to stay home for me, I can manage.”

“I don’t trust you to take care of yourself, actually.” And ouch, that kind of hurt but you knew he wasn’t wrong. “Y/n, please let me take care of you today. If you feel better tomorrow, then we’ll see about work.”

You thought about it and how anxious it made you to miss work. You had never missed work; you even went to work on a sprained ankle one day to spare yourself the stress and trouble it would entail. Part of the reason why you never missed work was because you knew your boss was a hardass when it came to sick days. But to be fair, it was probably irresponsible to work when you were this sick. The room wouldn’t stop spinning, so you didn’t even know how you’d manage to write emails all day long. You could try for a half day, but you knew Matt would sooner call your boss and let them know how he felt about this than let you do it. You sighed. “Okay, yeah, let me just send an email.”

“I can do it for you.”

“Matt, please.”

“I’ll get you your laptop but then you’re going back to sleep.”

He went back to the living room to get your laptop from the little desk area you’d arranged for yourself after Matt once again forced you to, because you didn’t want him to think you were taking over his own space. He’d shut that shit down so fast you didn’t even have time to blink before he moved some of his stuff over to make room for yours. He got you your laptop, you sent an apologetic email to you HR telling them you had the flu and would be up and at it again tomorrow, but until then you were on forced bed rest. You were so tired that you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about it for now, only thinking about the nap you were going to take as soon as you were done with this. You closed your laptop again and put it on your side table. You put your head back on your pillow and wrapped yourself in the duvet cover. Matt kissed your forehead before going to fill up your glass again. A whine escaped your lips without your consent when he made to leave, he stopped in his tracks.

“Do you need something, what’s wrong?” he asked, a frown between his eyebrows.

“Can you stay with me for now?” you asked, feeling shy suddenly. This was humiliating. You hated being sick because it made you feel and act like a helpless child. “I’m cold and I’m sleepy” you continued, feeling small and keeping your eyes closed to not face Matt’s judging face.

“Oh sweetheart,” you heard him say, and you opened your eyes again. He was coming to sit next to you, his hand coming to brush your hair. “Of course I’ll stay with you.” You thanked you and took his hand to hold it. You turned a little to face him, still holding his hand and before you knew it you were drifting of to sleep.

Thank you for reading, hope you liked it!!

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #daredevil fanfic #marvel fanfic

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sugawarassoulmate · 3 years ago

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suga x about love 🍑?

ahhhh i’m literally obsessed with your blog and your work it’s all spectacular!! 💕

thank you so much 😭

words: 663

cw: fem!reader, shower sex, established relationship, domestic (kinda), dubcon, reader is sleepy 🥺, minors dni

he hated having to leave you in the morning. you looked so cute cuddled underneath the blanket, it hurt having to disturb your sleep but he had urges. he’d gently wake you up with the sweetest kisses, peppering your face with his lips over and over until you were whining for him to stop.

“come take a shower with me,” he asked in his dreamy voice that makes your knees weak. he knew you wanted to burrow yourself under the quilt until you slipped back into unconsciousness. but he knew how to get what he wanted from you. it might be difficult at first, you’d complain to him that it was too early for you to get up and that you didn’t really want to shower right now but. but soon enough, he has you stripped of your clothes and standing under the showerhead.

“kou, you’re gonna be late for work,” you mumble, letting the water drizzle on your face to wake up faster. you wanted to be out as quickly as possible to have time to make suga a quick breakfast before he leaves. your boyfriend had other things on his mind from the way his soapy hands lather up and down your body, stopping right at the swell of your breasts.

suga giggles behind you, his cock heavy between his legs. “i’ve got plenty of time,” he says, rolling your cute little buds between his fingers. you wish he wouldn’t do this to you right now. it’s bad enough that you’re trying your best to wake up so you don’t slip in the tub but now your incredibly horny boyfriend has set his sights on you and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

not to worry, though. he’d never make you do all the work. most times, you just have to sit there and look pretty while he has his way with you and as a reward, you’ll get to feel good too. suga flips you so your back is on the cold tile, lifting your leg ever so slightly so he could line his cock up to your cunt. it’s laughable how easy he’s able to slide in—as if you’d ever resist him.

“such a good way to start my morning. you’re always so perfect for me, baby,” he says against your lips, water hitting his back as he drills his hips into you. “gonna be thinking about this all day until i get home and fuck you again.”

he was too vulgar for the morning, too much for your already foggy brain to comprehend. but he didn’t need you to be smart, just pretty and willing—and the way you spread your legs for him proved that you could be just that.

your legs start to feel like jelly but you know he won’t let you slip, but he can feel your walls constrict around him just as his own hips jerk sloppily. “my sweet baby’s gonna cum? it’s okay, you can let go,” he rambles, thumbing at your clit. “fuck, i love you so much. gonna drown you in my cum.”

both of you cum together, his seed running down your thighs and down the drain. suga finishes washing the both of you up and carries you back into the bedroom to help you get dressed. he looks so cute in his dress shirt and work tie that you forget how much of a menace he could be.

of course, you’re not innocent either. when it’s time for him to finally leave, you’re whining with your face in the crook of his neck. “i’ll suck you off if you stay,” but as tempting as your offer is, suga’s doesn’t give in and kisses you one last time before heading out the door.

“be a good girl for me, okay? i love you,” he’s finally gone and you’re left feeling a little empty. that boy has always had a bad influence on you.

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awindylife-writes · 3 years ago

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The Bar

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, Jack Harkness x reader (platonic)

Summary: Jack, the Doctor and you go to a bar. You are drugged and a man tries to take you but the Doctor luckily intervenes in time.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, but nothing graphic

"C'm on guys, there's this really great bar on the far side of Kristella, the lnky Sky," Jack insisted. "They serve everything you could want to drink, they've got live music and there's a festival coming! It's like Halloween on Earth, but the whole planet does it. They've even got punch!"

You grinned, "Well, l'm in." Why not? You wanted to have the experience with the two best friends you had, and it wasn't just any day you could go to an alien bar.

The Doctor and Jack looked at you in surprise.

"What?" you glanced between them, eyebrows raised.

"I mean it's just..." Jack began, "l never thought you were a bar enthusiast."

"Oh, l'm not," you assured him. "I just don't see why we shouldn't go. I mean, we faced the Shadows of Onn just two days ago and then the whole icky Persistence Incorporated lot like, yesterday. A bar should be a nice change of pace, unless you really don't want to go, Doctor?" Both you and Jack turned to look at him and he rubbed the back of his neck under your gazes.

"Weeeell, if you insist," the Doctor shrugged his shoulders and Jack pumped the air, "Yes!"

"Aright then," you smiled. "Jack, what exactly do we want to wear?"

The TARDIS wardrobe awaited you.

So far, so good, you thought to yourself.

You had arrived at the bar and quickly claimed a stand-by table. You were lucky you had gotten it, there wasn't much space left. A band was playing, as Jack had promised, and there were enough people dancing to create a crowd. The music was alien and had some surprising metaphors, but there was a nice rhythm to it and you found yourself nodding along. You apprechiated the volume too, it was quiet enough to talk over it where you were standing.

The before-mentioned punch cost a laughable two Eeti and most took the generous opportunity, you included. Nevermind the Doctor and his "It smells funny" comments. Jack ordered something bright pink and alien at the bar while you scooped the punch into a glass. The Doctor stuck with apple juice.

It didn't take long for Jack to spot a cute guy at a table next to yours. You and the Doctor smiled knowingly when they started flirting across the way. Soon, Jack gave you a questioning look and you laughed. "Go on," you nodded your head towards the neighbouring table.

He smiled in grattitude and hugged you hurriedly. You patted his back.

"Go on, get outta here," the Doctor told Jack, voice warm.

"I want you back before noon, got it?" you levelled Jack's gaze in mock seriousness. He flipped you a salute before walking out, hand in hand with the guy.

The Doctor and you continued your conversation. As he rambled on about the rings of Ahknaten, you rubbed your eyes. Was it just you or was everything getting a little blurry? Maybe your alchohol tolerance was even lower than you had thought.

Then you noticed the Doctor was eyeing Jack's half finished drink, and you could tell he was curious.

"C'm on, Doctor," you grinned at him. "This is exactly the place and the time to try something like this."

He gave you a questioning look, and you nudged him with your elbow. "I dare you."

"Weeell, you see, now l just can't refuse. My honor absolutely cannot take a hit like this," he shook his head in mock offence, a smile playing at his lips. He carefully held the glass and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Ooh, is it any good?" You had to make an effort to sound chirpy. Maybe all the running was finally catching up to you, because you felt like you were about to nod off.

The Doctor cocked his head. "Actually, it's sweet. I didn't even consider alcohol could be sweet, didn't even think. Who made alcohol sweet? Brilliant invention I mean, if my taste buds have anything to say about it. It's not gonna have an effect on me, me being a Time Lord and all that, but l've never bothered with stuff like this, it didn't seem nearly as interesting as a new world behind the TARDIS door, but now that l consider it-"

"You're gonna go order another one?" You gently interjected his rambling.

"Mhm, yeah, l'll definitely order another one," he answered with a grin.

"Good for you. Oh, and you could go pay as well?" you suggested. You didn't think you would be ordering anything else, not with your head as fuzzy as it was.

He took the money out of his pocket (you had reminded him to get some before you'd arrived, it wasn't exactly like you, a human from Earth, had Kristellan currency on hand). "I'll be right back," he promised you and headed for the bar.

You didn't mind standing there at the table on your own, but it was a little akward. You felt like a sore thumb, standing out from the mixture of creatures around you. You watched the people at the edge of the dance floor, their shapes and colours blurring. Was that supposed to happen? You couldn't seem to take enough air in, though you tried to breathe deeply. The mist in your mind spread, and bit by bit it got harder to think. You stared vacantly at the moving shapes, trying to remember where the Doctor had gone. Why were your legs so weak?

Then there was someone at your side, holding your hand and asking you something. Something about dancing? You nodded, unsure what he wanted, and he grinned. Then he pulled you from the table, and that wasn't right. You were in the middle of the crowd now, and the green tinted man had his arms around you. What was happening?

The Doctor found himself staring at the punch bowl while he waited for his drink. There was something about it, something niggling at the back of his brain.

Then the air moved, and he could smell the scent of it again. But what was that, that tinge, something barely there, something like an acid? Something hydroxy... something with butan... hydroxybutan....

Y-hydroxibutanoic acid. The Doctor felt his blood run cold.

He whipped around and grabbed the unsuspecting barista by her wrist. "Listen to me, right now," he growled and her golden eyes widened. "That punch bowl is spiked, and everyone here could be in danger. Do something about it."

She nodded in horror so he knew she understood the urgency and turned to her colleague, her voice grave. He left all his money on the counter without a thought, he needed to find y/n.

When he arrived back at your table, you were gone. He looked around in panic. You had drunk the punch at least twenty minutes ago, which was definitely enough time for the drug to kick in. If anyone tried-

Then he finally found you. His hearts sped up. A man with his hand around you was pulling you through the crowd, towards the door. The Doctor saw your wobbling, unsteady steps, saw you still try to get the man's hands off of you.

White-hot fury exploded in his chest, it burned everything away. His hands tightened into fists at his sides and trembled with his rage. Blood rushed in his ears as he gritted his teeth into a snarl. This was it, this was what Daleks were afraid of. He ripped through the crowd withought a thought to anyone.

Upon reaching you, he pushed the two of you apart. The creep stumbled to the side but at once, the Doctor gently took you by the shoulders to hold you up. Yes, there was fury in him enough to scorch planets, but this was you.

Your eyes foggy, you tensed in his arms and shakily tried to break free, but he soothed you with a soft voice. "Hey, hey, it's me, it's the Doctor." You immediately stopped fighting.

"Doct'r," you slurred and fell into his chest, eyes half closed.

"What the hell, man?" the creep demanded.

The Doctor pressed you against his side and turned so he was holding you up the furthest you could be from the man who had tried to- No. He couldn't even think about it.

"Hey! Dont cockblo-" the turd came at the two of you but the Doctor grabbed his lapel and pulled him close. The creep's eyes went wide as he tried to break free.

It was easy, so incredibly easy to hold him in place. The Time Lord rarely used his full strength, always relayed on his mind, because he'd seen what war meant. But now the restraints were snapping like paper strings and the beast in him rattled its chains.

"You get one warning, just one. So listen closely," he growled in the turd's face. "Run. Run far and run fast, because if l see you, if l so much as smell you in the wind, l will find you, and l will teach you the meaning of hell." He suddenly released the creep who stubled from the force of it and scurried away, into the crowd.

The Doctor looked down at you and all rage evaporated. Your head was resting on his shoulder and you were leaning into him to stay upright. Your eyes were closed. He gripped you a little tighter and cooed, "Hey there. Let's get you home, aright?"

You hummed, only half-coherent at best, and nuzzled into him. Butterflies immediately filled his stomack, but this was not the time for that. He tried to take a step, but it soon became apparent that you couldn't walk.

The Doctor carefully lifted you into his arms and headed for the TARDIS.

When you two finally reached your room, he gently sat you on the bed where you wobbled a little but stayed upright. He kneeled down and unlaced your shoes. When they were off, he thought you would want him to leave, but then he felt your warm hand clumsily catch his.

"Stay," you mumbled and he looked up into your hazy eyes.

He felt his hearts beat faster at the soft look you gave him. He wanted to find that man and rip him apart, he wanted to give you the universe, wanted to wrap himself around you and never leave.

He could never refuse you.

"Alright," he whispered. He slowly stood up and pulled back the covers so you could get into the bed, then he took off his jacket and his shoes.

When he clambered in, he planned on staying away from you, but you found him and pressed yourself against him. You lay your head on his chest as your hands hugged his sides. When you nuzzled your cheek into his shirt and sighed in content, he felt something soft and warm spread through him. Of course he'd known you trusted him, but this- You were helpless, utterly helpless, and you trusted him to hold you. A thousand stars glowed in his chest as he put his arms around you.

A voice in his head told him he maybe shouldn't be enjoying this, considering the cause that had led you two here, but it was small and distant and not impossible to ignore. You were safe.

He nuzzled his cheek into your hair and fell asleep with you in his arms.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctorwho #doctorwho x reader #the doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who fanfiction #doctorwho fanfiction #jack harkness #jack #jack x reader #reader insert

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ronearoundblindly · 3 years ago

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The Dignity of His Choice (4)

Brand, Part Two (see previous or series)

Summary: Bucky returns to update Steve and ask him some serious questions. Warnings: language.

No music, no fires (until foggy days), no books (except one small tome on edible plants), no paper. Steve draws with a stick in the dirt sometimes and hums songs (quietly) he wants to dance with you to. He thinks this will be the easy part. The bandaid is ripped off. It should be fine; it’s just a waiting game while the best Team on earth handles the same stuff they do every day all day. While Bucky won’t discuss the subplot of your kidnapping with anyone, the Avengers and all affiliated intelligence organizations are already working the list. Buck doesn’t need to push for that. Steve’s grateful that Natasha knows, too. She and Bucky together will no doubt be able to find any traitor among the employees.

He’s been alone before, not for this long, but Steve has done this bit. The waiting feels the same as all the other waiting. It sucks. He hates it. But it’s no different.

There’s no plumbing. He has to shit outside and walk about a mile to a stream for water once, sometimes twice, a day. It’s already too cold to bathe in the stream, so Steve just…gets grimy and deals with it. The only piece he can’t handle being dirty is his hands. He’s seen too much battle and had too much actual blood on his hands to stand his skin or nails looking so used. It’s one of those things he does to keep his professional life separate from, well, himself.

None of this is really new. He was in the army in 1943, of course. He’s camped outside and hunkered down in abandoned houses before. Steve can hear Dum Dum Dugan in his head saying Cap’s gone soft. Dernier’s voice mutters in French about Steve missing his ‘three water closets in his own palace’ while Union Jack points out that you told Steve he’d miss having his own bathroom someday. This is all ludicrous, however, because those men have been dead longer than Steve’s known you, several of them died before you were born, but hey, it’s his brain’s best way of coping.

He hears nothing and sees no one (in real life) for two weeks.

The high-pitched whine of the jet engine comes first, likely beyond human hearing at that distance. Bucky’s been able to swing an unlogged visit because of a recon mission with comms-dark protocols, but he can only stay for a few hours.

“What about today’s mission?” Steve thinks his voice sounds harsh and needy after not speaking for so long.

“Let’s just say,” Bucky says with a smirk over his shoulder, “this guy wasn’t that hard to outsmart.”

He tenses. “He in the jet? Buck, what if he says you stopped—“

“This i’n’t my first rodeo, punk.” Bucky puts a hand up and shrugs. “Plus I tranqued him. He can’t notice a whole hell of a lot.”

Steve nods but paces the handful of strides back and forth across the single room structure. Bucky seems casual enough, in a good mood, but he doesn’t offer any details about home while he shows Steve what supplies he’s been able to scrounge up. None of them are Steve’s things, obviously, but he is grateful.

Maybe it’s going well? Maybe he can come home soon? You’ve got an entire team of people to carry you through this dark time, so as much as it breaks Steve’s heart, it should all be fine once the threat is gone. Bucky and Nat know to keep an eye on you. They can help with anything you could possibly need. Perhaps—just perhaps—you suspect the truth already. You’re smart, so Steve wouldn’t doubt that possibility for a second. Buck’s probably here to say you guessed and now you know. Maybe you’ve written a letter for Steve. He’s filled with unmatched hope all of a sudden and can barely contain it.

“How is she?” Steve smiles. He genuinely expects good news.

Then he sees his friend’s face fall.

Bucky pulls out his Stark tablet, and Steve startles just a little. Buck quickly assures him the signal isn’t connected to anything, plus there’s a whole damn jet outside. Of course, he knows that Bucky wouldn’t be so careless as to burn his own safe house’s location simply to show Steve photos, but he flinches anyway. Isolation has not been great for Steve.

Bucky finds what he’s scrolling for and then tilts the screen back down. “How about I tell you the progress first?” He’s biting his lip. That’s not a good sign.

Steve huffs and seats himself (since Bucky refuses to use the one chair available).

“Another three killed before capture and a dozen more leads, approximately half of those are solid, actionable within the next week.”

“Leaving?”

Bucky lands a steel gaze on Steve. “Give or take twenty unknowns.”

Steve’s doing calculations so fast it hurts. He buries his head in his hands, and after a moment, he gives up and just wants to be told. “How long am I gonna be out here?”

Bucky puts a hand on his knee. “As long as it takes to keep your wife safe, pal.” He takes one look at Steve’s red-faced frustration and offers the tablet. Quietly, he adds, “we had your funeral.”

Before Steve even looks at the screen, he can imagine you spending the entire time hugging every single person there. It’s your superpower. You are comfort incarnate to Steve. You likely are to everyone you touch. The thought alone makes him long for you that much more, but something in Bucky’s body language hints that Steve is very, very wrong.

The camera roll is queued up to its end: one photo and two videos after a slew of Alpine pictures. The photo shows exceptional quality, zoomable to an unflattering degree, but the iconography is stunning.

You’re in mourning, your face covered in a sheer black veil that only partially obscures contorted features. Your hand rests on his shield with his mother’s ring and your wedding band visible on your spread fingers.

Steve slumps into the chair. He expected this. You’re rightfully devastated, as Steve would be if he thought you were dead, too, but it still hurts to see in vivid color.

Bucky leans over and swipes to the first video, a short, low-quality clip with handheld camera movement, blink and he would miss it. You topple the shield’s display and move—Steve can’t be sure at this angle—to spit on it, maybe? Good god, he can tell just by the way your back is set that you’re about to snap. He doesn’t want to see more, but Bucky swipes anyway.

The speakers on the phone are up way too loud, and since Steve has been in near silence for weeks, he’s flung back into the seat by the hoarse and broken wail that catapults out. The power of it has his own frustrated and embarrassed flush scalding up his body in thick sheets. Each second scrapes a layer of his humanity away.

He did this. He did this to you.

It’s not even over by the time Bucky taps the file closed and takes the device back. Steve’s shaken into silence. His ears are still ringing.

“I’m here because I need to know if there are any…abort points. Keep her safe, obviously, but what if…” Buck studies the small, lone window a moment before continuing lowly. “What are the hard outs for this?”

“The job isn’t done until she’s safe.”

“Yeah, but say she…tries to hurt herself?”

Steve sits quietly for a minute and rubs his legs. He’s reeling. He has no reference point for this behavior from you. He knows how upset you were by Norm’s death…and why the hell is he just thinking about this now? Of course. Of course, this is how you react. This is how he met you. You only coped then because of Steve, and he feels so stupid for just realizing that even though you know all about loss, you can’t simply default to acceptance. And he would have known—he would have seen this coming—if he’d just thought it through. There’s a difference between you being alive because of him and you being alive without him.

But Steve can’t unring this bell. Not until you’re out of danger.

In equal parts to reassure himself and assure Bucky, he says, “she would never do that.” Steve’s own voice isn’t even convincing. The words are weak, and they aren’t the last to fall short.

“And if she leaves campus? Quits working there? Moves away?”

Now Steve’s getting antsy. The stun of your cry is wearing off, and he just wants to help. “You said yourself there’s no reason they’d take her if I’m dead, Buck.”

“I know what I said.” Bucky scans the woods outside the cabin carefully before his next question. “And if she moves on?”

Steve licks his lips, mind blank. He doesn’t understand.

“What if your wife starts…seeing someone, Steve?”

“Like a therapist?” His voice cracks. “Makes sense. Might be a good idea.”

“No, bud.” Bucky gives Steve the same remorseful look he gave him after his mom passed, the one where Bucky vowed to hold Steve’s hand through an incomprehensible crisis, the one that says Bucky loves him but he’s not sure Steve can handle himself this time. “I mean dating. What if your wife, who thinks you are dead, starts seeing someone romantically?”

And suddenly Steve’s furious, and his voice drops dangerously low. “It’s been two weeks.”

“We don’t know how long it’s gonna take to clear all those names.”

“I’m not going to be out here long enough for that.”

“You know that finding twenty—“

He’s on his feet in a flash, screaming, “I’m not going TO BE HERE that long.“

“There is no playbook for grief, Steve! I just need to know when to call this off.”

“No, Buck,” he shouts, “you’re not calling it off. You come back here when they’re all dead.”

Steve’s never felt this kind of fury before. He’s an echo chamber for your sorrow, and the force is melting him from the inside out. He grips his friend’s shoulders with bone-crushing strength, but metal doesn’t yield and serum heals the rest.

“You use every bit of that shit inside you and you hunt them, do you hear me? That’s the hard out. That’s the only option.”

It’s crippling to watch the flicker of fear in Bucky’s eyes. Steve has never once treated Bucky like a weapon, but Steve has no choice. He can do nothing.

“Fine.” Bucky puts his hands up. “We’re are on the same page.”

The sum total of what Steve can do for your safety at this moment lands him in the middle of an uninhabited wilderness. He needs Bucky to handle anything just like Steve would, but that was the side of the coin they’d never landed on, the danger of him being gone. Bucky can’t replace Steve, so his only option, the best thing he can do for Steve and you, is to Winter Soldier the hell out of that list. The man who held Bucky’s hand back to humanity asks—no, begs—for Bucky to use every dark and twisted means he knows to fix this problem.

It’s a line Steve never thought he’d cross. He almost takes it back right there, but Bucky’s eyes steel again, showing that he gets the message, he knows the stakes, and he has his orders.

Steve releases his grip and rolls out his tense shoulders. “I expect you to use your best judgment on what is too great a danger.” It’s his Cap voice but softer, less sure. “And it’s just the twenty names?”

“Well,” Buck admits through tight lips, “we’re finding outliers. New recruits working under some of the alias agents.”

“Anyone who would be the source inside HQ?”

Bucky shakes his head, looking guilty as Steve struggles with his thoughts.

He’s got no words left. There are no more angles he can see, and Bucky has to go. Steve’s heart gets heavier the more he thinks of Bucky’s presence here meaning one less person near you who can help. He ticks his head to usher Bucky back to the jet.

At the base of the ramp, Steve draws Bucky into the hug he should have started the visit with. After a good long while, he whispers, “what’d she say when you told her?”

Bucky hesitates, pats Steve’s back, and pulls away. “She slapped me. Slapped me pretty damn hard.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but immediately he recalls how you tried to kick at him while in shock after Norm’s death. It all makes sense. He still hates it.

Steve’s torment gouges his features when he links his forearm to Buck’s. “Till the job is done.”

“I’ll see it through,” Bucky says solidly. “Don’t do anything stupid, punk.”

Steve clenches. He can’t fall back on the old quips. Not this time. Left with no control over his life and future, no one to fight, Steve hasn’t got any humor left in his body.

“Can’t afford stupid.”

Bucky nods and heads into the jet before throwing one last hope over his shoulder, “ya know, this isn’t the end of the line.”

Steve needs to hear that. This nightmare will end, but you and the life he’s built won’t end with it. That’s the hope his life depends on now.

(Next Part)

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Ask box is open!

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg

#steve rogers fic #fools rush in #steve rogers #fanfic #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #series #steve x you #angst with a happy ending #steve rogers angst #steve rogers and reader #eventual smut #eventual happy ending #romance

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kunikinnie · 2 years ago

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a/n: life has been a whirlwind so just quickly channeling some feelings here HAHA also in hopes that I can pick up writing again taglist: @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee

warnings: angst, not proofread notes: first person Dazai POV, "reader" is female

There was no reason for me to wander into that district. There was no one to meet, no place to visit - it must have been the force of a bad habit that refuses to die.

Or it was just the alcohol. Yes, it must have been the alcohol that chose all these wrong decisions tonight. I shouldn’t have refused Kunikida-kun’s offer for drinks if only I knew I’d end up drinking by myself - and nothing good happens when I drink by myself.

Ghosts of the past begin to take form once more, a heavy, deplorable weight upon these scarred shoulders that could break at any moment. Try as I might, I can't ignore them, let alone exorcise them. As time goes by their presence only becomes stronger.

My mind was hazy and my vision was blurry, but a glimpse of the faintest semblance of that woman triggered a full-body paralysis.

At that moment I was certain it was her.

All of a sudden, my blood rushed forcefully through constricted vessels and I began to walk toward her. There was a man she was adhered to by the arm. If I had been just a little bit more intoxicated I might have assumed they were one creature squirming about under the neon lights.

With a half-drunken strut and a sneer I approached them.

“Who’s this new victim you’ve got here? You’ll toss him aside once you get bored with him, won’t you? What a pathetic whore.”

That’s what I wanted to say. But the moment they disappeared into the dark corridor of the establishment, so did my impulsive urge.

I could have done it. Maybe I should’ve. But there’s still a part of me that’s always true to the one and only promise of a love that was cursed from the beginning. What a slave, what an idiot.

At least I know better than to dabble into any of that nonsense again. Fooling around here and there with no strings attached doesn’t count, of course, and by now I’ve accepted that it’ll stay that way until I fizzle away into nothing.

Could I do better? Of course. I could let a woman waltz as gaily as she wishes into this cold, barren heart, and tango away from it just as freely. But I’m not that kind; not to others, and especially not to myself.

Every woman is tainted with a semblance of her: it doesn’t matter how minute it might be. The brand of her shoes, the way she crosses her legs, and even the fluttering of the eyes – it’s all linked to that cruel woman.

The whirlwind of images and emotions overwhelmed my half-functioning brain until it was finally swept up by its current and drowning night lights.

“Sir? Excuse me, but, uh…”

Some strange soul was nudging at me.

“You’ve been out for a bit so I came to check on you.”

I opened my eyes to a brighter sky, realizing that I must have passed out on a nearby bench. The angel, it seemed, was a graveyard-shift convenience store worker.

“It might be too late for you to go home and then to work, so you can have this for breakfast.” She handed me a small plastic bento with six pieces of cheap sushi and two egg rolls in it. “Actually it’s about to expire, but it’s still good I had some earlier…”

She was fidgeting and rambling about, cheeks turning pink and all. Why was she so nervous talking to a hangover goof? How naïve of her to approach in the first place.

“A-anyway I’ll be going now.”

I had yet to thank her when she dashed off and went back to her workplace. It was a strange encounter to say the least, and my foggy brain was struggling to piece its thoughts together.

I glanced once at the cold bento and then at the store she fled to. Hmm. Perhaps I should pay a visit soon.

#bsd #dazai osamu #dazai x reader

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kwritingbooks · 2 years ago

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co-written by me & @shroombloomm

read on wattpad or tumblr masterlist

A wide range of emotions and thoughts are left with the aftermath of the previous night. Unsure what to feel, Aurora goes through some inner battles. And to top it off, her suspicions are raised about someone she thought she could trust.

AU: star-being!harry x astronomy-student!aurora

Content warnings: mentions of substance use

AURORA'S POV

The crisp morning air woke me up, creating goosebumps on my skin as I became more aware of my surroundings. Birds chirped around me, and for a moment I had forgotten that I had fallen asleep outside. Or even what had happened last night. It was like a really weird dream that lasted for hours.

With my hands tucked to my chest, I nuzzled into the body that laid next to me as the breeze brushed past us. It was bitterly cold, reminding me that the fall was morphing into the next season of winter. I liked this time of the year, but hated how cold it got. However, the warmth of the person that held me tightly was warming enough to make my heart flutter at this early hour.

But then I realized.

My eyes shot open, but my body stayed still. I blinked hard, looking at the faded out band shirt that my face was nuzzled into. I let out a shallow breath as my head craned up towards the face of the body. Harry had his nose tucked into my hair with his arms wrapped tightly around my torso. For a moment, I forgot that I had even fallen asleep with him. I felt his hot breath that spread onto the scalp of my head, my hand placing onto his chest softly.

I hadn't even noticed that he had given me most of the blankets. He did say that the cold reminded him of home, but I didn't think he was going to give me all of the blankets, leaving him none to spare. I wondered if he was freezing right now, just like how I was.

Memories of last night flooded my brain the more that I laid there, eyes wandering around the body that I was tucked into. Last night was so much fun. I felt so refreshed, but at the same time, I felt a bit hungover. Nothing like acid to cure my foggy brain, but the weed to make it ten times harder to wake up the next morning. It was a reason why I preferred not to smoke on nights that I had classes.

I never wanted to wake up the next morning.

Rubbing my eye with my knuckle, I used my elbow to slowly lift myself up to search around the bed of the truck. Nina and Ryan were still nowhere to be found. A frown etched onto my lips, anxiety suddenly spreading through my chest. What if they really had gotten lost? We tried to find them last night, but it was so dark and each call of their name followed pure silence. I chalked it up to them either having too much fun together, or they were asleep in their own cocoon of leaves.

I felt Harry start to toss from beside me, his large hand resting on my hip as he squeezed it carefully. His eyes were still shut, his lips smacking together. I must've woken him up when I sat up, but I tried to be as careful as I could not to wake him. I didn't even know what time it was, but by the looks of it, it seemed to be early in the morning with the way the sun barely rested over the tops of the trees.

I rested back down into his arms, placing my hand onto his to let him know I was still there, and that I wasn't going anywhere without him. At least, I hadn't planned on it. I had no idea where to start the hunt for Nina and Ryan anyway, so I hoped he would wake up soon so we could start. My brain was still so cluttered and foggy that it was hard to focus on a solid plan to begin with.

We laid there for what seemed like eternity, his fingers brushing alongside my hips carefully as I tried not to fall back asleep in the warmth he invited me into. I was never a morning person, never really claimed to be. I was glad that Harry didn't immediately start talking when he woke up. In fact, he still kept his eyes closed, but he was very much still awake from the movements of his body.

After a few moments, I looked up towards him. He must've felt my eyes on him because a mere second later, one of his eyes popped open to gaze down at me. They were half lidded and full of sleep. He parted his lips, swiping his tongue along the bottom of his lip before nuzzling his nose into my hair.

"Good morning." His voice was heavy, raspy even. My heart thumped at the sudden lowness of his voice, and a smile crept onto my lips as I went back to staring at his faded shirt.

"Nina and Ryan are still gone." I said softly, a sigh following after. I had really wished that Nina wouldn't have run off like that and not come back after nighttime. She knew that it was going to worry me, but I couldn't help it. I barely knew Ryan and only God knew what they had gotten into last night.

"I know." He mumbled sleepily as his finger left their spot on my hip to rub at his sleepy, red eyes. "I'm sure they are around here somewhere."

I bit down onto my lip, contorting my body to turn over onto my back. A huff left my lips as I mustered up the strength to push myself off of my back to sit up. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I saw the open field where Harry and I had just sprinted in last night. I could even spot out the small leaf pile across the field that was buried deep into the ground from our actions. The green grass glistened with moisture. It had almost looked like something out of a cartoon, and if I stepped into it, my feet would become wet with its nature-like-bath.

I blinked hard. Looking out to the field had all the memories rush back to my mind. Staring at the leaf pile across the field, the actions of us kissing each other desperately came up. I swallowed thickly, placing a hand onto my thigh as my fingers gripped onto my pants. I didn't want this to change things. I liked them the way they were before, and I just hoped that things weren't going to be weird now. Kissing Harry was everything and more, but I couldn't help but feel a ping of regret in the back of my mind.

I shook my head. It wasn't what I needed to think of right now.

I needed to find Nina and Ryan first.

"Nina!" I called out into the field. My voice cracked, reminding me that I hadn't used my full voice just yet. It always seemed to crack in the morning as if I was a pubescent kid. Its raspiness only added onto it. "Nina! Are you out there?"

Zoning into the field, I squinted my eyes as I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be two bodies laying on the grass on a pile of blankets. Using the palms of my hands, I crawled forward towards the end of the truck bed and looked a bit harder.

A body suddenly shot up from the pile, showing a messy haired Nina with a wide smile on her lips. Her original flowers had long been gone, I imagined, with only a singular petal buried in the strands left. I let out a sigh of relief, slumping my shoulders down as I waved towards her. She waved back at me, then pointed towards Ryan who was still laying down on the blankets.

"Good morning! Once I get him up, I'll come over!" She yelled out.

I rolled my eyes playfully before crawling back into the blankets that brought back that familiar warmth. Harry had sat there, dazed, his eyes blank as if he wasn't really thinking much of anything. I wondered if he was okay after last night, and if he was feeling the after effects of the drugs we had taken.

"You okay?" I mumbled softly towards him.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, cracking a small smile before he eased back under the blankets with me. This time he hadn't wrapped his arms around me, instead he rested the back of his head onto the palms of his hands.

"Yeah, just tired." He grumbled. His morning voice– there was something about it that didn't quite match the way he was, but I still found it attractive. Scratchy and deep. Sleepy and slurred.

I hummed in acknowledgement, shutting my eyes for a moment as I soaked in the moment. I could hear the faint rumblings of Nina and Ryan's voices mixing together. Her laughs were always so recognizable that I could swear that I would be able to identify it from miles away. It was infectious, to say the least. I hoped that I would never have to lose the privilege of hearing it.

It only mildly rinsed over the fact that I wanted to scold her for worrying me like that.

"Good morning, my beautiful people!" Nina sing-songed in a giggle.

I sat up on my shoulders, fighting off the grin that dared to spread across my face. It was hard to be mad at someone who only bounced off sunshine the way that she did. While I was sure that I had mascara smeared from the sleep, somehow she never looked a bit out of place. Even her morning hair looked as if it was meant to be like that. Every stray piece that curled in a different pattern from its neighbors was perfectly curated to be that way, I was sure of it.

Even if she did look a mess, her sense of self never seemed to show it.

"Hey, Nina." I heard Harry grumble from beside me, yet to sit up from his comfortable spot.

I bit back another smile as I tried to force myself to sound stern. "You need to learn to keep your phone–" I paused as I tossed the device in her direction, which she caught effortlessly. "On you at all times! Especially when we're out in a field and anything can happen!"

Nina rolled her eyes playfully as she mindlessly scrolled through her notifications that she had missed. "Yes, mom. Please don't ground me." She pouted out a sarcastic lip as she walked closer, leaning her arms on the side of the truck nearest me.

"But it wasn't like I didn't also see you two frollicking around in the field, too. Sure seemed like you guys were having fun." She smirked, pushing herself back off the truck to stand back beside Ryan.

I opened my mouth to rebuttal against her words, but she raised an eyebrow at me as if she wanted me to challenge her.

I had no idea what exactly she had all seen and that made me nervous. I remembered a good percentage of what had happened last night, but maybe there were missing fragments. I definitely didn't want to find out the possibilities of what she had seen in front of anyone else, especially Harry. I didn't need him to see me get flustered over the recollections.

I just really hoped that she hadn't seen the one particular scene that involved the bout of intimacy we shared. I knew she was going to eventually know about it, but it wasn't something I wanted aired out in front of everyone either. I would tell her when I was ready, and hopefully she would actually be surprised.

It only took us about an hour to finally will ourselves to clean up everything. Our rumbling stomachs were the biggest contribution to getting it together. The thought of a hearty meal after all the energy we exerted previously was reason enough for me to quickly gather and fold up all the blankets that were now sprinkled with bits of dead leaves and grass. One of them even had a faint smell of alcohol still lingering within the fabric, but I wasn't surprised.

All in a night's work of having fun, right?

The ride back home was a lot of listening in on the conversation going on in the front seat. It was hard to gauge exactly what was being talked about as I watched Ryan and Nina giggle to themselves. It made my heart warm watching their subtle touches as they spoke, engaging each other physically into the conversation as they joked amongst each other. It was like watching a scene from a movie. This would have been a perfect clip for a montage that played a cute, upbeat song in the background.

I would've watched it, anyway.

But watching them was the only thing that kept my brain occupied from jumping to what all went on last night and led into this morning. The fog of waking up had finally subsided and reality was now in my face. His grip that he had on me throughout the night still lingered on my skin as I continued to think about it. It was like I was afraid of it, but craved it at the same time. I wanted it to happen again, but I was scared to sink deeper than I already found myself sinking into in the first place.

I hated how awkward I felt, sitting there beside Harry as we stayed silent. I could feel his eyes briefly run over to me every now and then, but I would pretend like I didn't notice it. I even noticed his fingers trail closer, as if to be an open invitation for me to welcome in his touch. The only thing I could think to do was sit there on my phone to busy my fingers with typing. It filled me with a lot of guilt quite honestly, but I couldn't help it. It was all I knew what to do.

I wasn't sure how to deal with situations like this. I had hookups before, sure, but this was much different. Hookups didn't mean cuddling afterwards or feeling comfort in the other's touch in general. Feelings were to never be involved, let alone any kind of attachments. The second an attachment is formed, it's like an emotional contract that you can't get out of. It's legally binding. No lawyer could dig you out of that hole. So, in order to never fall down into it, you should never find yourself walking towards it to begin with.

But, when hallucinogens were brought into the equation last night, it was hard to act against what felt natural. Being with him and feeling along his body while he felt along mine felt like the right thing to do. It felt like it was exactly what I was born to do, what he was born to do. I didn't want to stop, but I did. That was the most unnatural feeling I had felt in a long time– not allowing myself access to what felt right.

I just didn't want to come to terms with how it all made me feel, because the moment that it did, everything would change. So, for now, I stayed silent.

"Looks like you have someone not-so-patiently awaiting your arrival." Nina chuckled, pointing towards my window painted with new, wet nose prints.

I hadn't even noticed we got to my apartment until she said that, honestly. But, the sight of Astro sticking her nose against the living room window was enough to shake me from whatever this feeling was. It was like a breath of fresh air from the confusion spinning inside me. It was also nice to see my apartment in its newly refined condition, not met with its earlier mystical destruction.

I hurriedly unbuckled my seat and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I swung the door open.

"I'll see you guys later!" I shouted right before shutting the door behind me.

With my back turned and already walking down the path, I heard Harry's voice from the window.

"Aurora!" He shouted, causing me to spin back around. "What time do you want me to come back so we can go to the planetarium?" His smile curled at the corners with eyes that matched that same sparkle.

God, was it hard to look him in the eyes right now with these feelings going on. Was this on purpose? Was all of this not punishment enough?

I smiled anyway. "Yeah, just give me a bit and we can head over. I'll text you."

I couldn't get into the shower fast enough. I felt really good after last night's trip, but I always felt like I needed a good shower after any kind of outdoor adventure. Something about rolling around in the leaves and dirt just leaves you feeling sticky, yet dry at the same time.

As the hot water hit my skin, my forehead pressed against the wall as I allowed the water to run down my body. This was the first time I had felt calm in a while, but something was eating me away in the back of my mind.

Truth be told, I hadn't dated anyone since I was in Alaska. Before I left for college, my girlfriend at the time, had broken things off with me. I was shocked, to say the least, we had been together all throughout high school. Her reasoning was valid, though, knowing I was going to be in another country going to school and even if we had stayed together—I would have only gotten to visit for the holidays.

It took me a while to get over it. She was my first love after all and ever since then, I hadn't tried to put myself out there. I didn't feel like I needed to.

Except then I met Nina. We actually went on a date around the time I first moved here. At first I had said no, given I was fresh out of a relationship, but Nina was persistent. As she always was, still to this day.

And as you could guess, we were better off friends. It was no hard feelings, and I had absolutely no regrets about how we developed the friendship that we had now. If anything, it was a fun story to remind each other about every now and then.

But since then, I didn't think I had really tried to put myself out there. Sure, I had one night stands, but those were throwaways. Something I didn't have to deal with the next day. They were simple and both parties knew what to expect out of the exchange.

With Harry, it was really different. I liked him, admittedly, but I didn't think I was ready for anything yet. I felt bad in a way, I didn't know if he knew that or if he was feeling something different.

Given that he wasn't from here, that we faced a lot of cultural differences, I didn't know what was going through his mind whenever we were all over each other last night.

I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind as I rinsed myself off and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around me, I walked into my bedroom and started pulling out clothes from my closet.

Astro was laying on the bed, her eyes droopy as she let out a huff. Glancing towards her, a small smile spread across my lips. It was a guilty smile. I hated leaving her alone at night, but I made sure she had everything she needed before I left.

Not to mention she had tackled me the minute I walked into the door this morning. I was sure she had a bit of separation anxiety, but I couldn't blame her. She was a shelter dog, so of course she relied on me, and sometimes I felt like I let her down because of it.

Once I got dressed, I slid into the bed with her and wrapped my arms around her furry body.

"I love you, baby." I mumbled to her as I placed kisses around her head and ears. "Who's my good girl? Who's my good girl?!"

Astro started to whine, her tail wagging as her body wiggled in my arms. I let out a laugh, rolling over to my back as she stood up on all fours, staring down at me while she panted. Her tongue hung out, arching her back with her butt in the air before lapping a stripe of saliva up my cheek.

"Gah!" I laughed out, whipping my face to the side as I took my towel from beside me and wiped my face. "Heeeyy, I just washed my face!"

Suddenly, a knock on the door came from the living room. Astro's head whipped towards the noise, a small whine leaving her as she started to make small circles into the bed. Over and over again. I sat up, a frown curved into my lips as I watched her nervously tap around in circles before standing in front of me.

She had never done this before. I could only assume that she was traumatized from the break in that happened a while ago. Which, honestly, made me feel like a shit dog-mom. I should've protected her more, but I didn't. That was my fault.

"It's okay, baby." I told her softly, rubbing her head as I got off the bed. She buried her face into the blankets as I left the room, but I knew she was staring at me while I walked out.

The sun was out. I knew that Harry was coming over, but I hadn't checked my phone since I got home. I had probably just missed his text that he was on his way.

Still, my heart was beating fast as I walked towards the door. When I opened it, there he was. Standing there. At first, his lips were pursed as he stared down at his feet, surely waiting on me to answer. But then, his head popped up to face me. That crooked smile spread across his lips, his curls falling into his face as his eyes crinkled with happiness. He looked like he was fresh out of the shower too, with clothes that were no longer reeking of the outdoors.

"Aurora, hey." Harry said softly, raising his hand to wave at me. "You ready to go?"

"Hey." I half smiled at him. "Yeah, let me grab my things—"

"I'll get it for you!" Harry said quickly with a smile as he stepped into the doorway. I blinked hard, moving to the side as he leaned over to grab my bag by the door.

"Harry, you don't have to do that—"

"No, it's okay." He said with a lopsided smile, placing the strap of the bag over his shoulder. I cleared my throat, my fingers starting to pick at my cuticles as I nodded towards him.

"Okay." I breathed out a laugh. Harry had both mine and his bag on his back as I followed behind him. He looked from over his shoulder, stopping in his tracks to give me time to keep up with his pace.

"Did you have fun last night?" He asked me as I approached him. I glanced towards him out of the side of my eye, giving him a small nod as a shy smile spread across my lips.

"I did." I told him. "Did you?"

"Most certainly." He breathed out a laugh, his ring cladded fingers clutching around the straps of the bag. "I have never done anything like that before. You said it was called acid? I think I would enjoy doing it again if I was invited to do so."

"Yeah, acid." I whispered softly, scanning the area around us. Talking about drugs out in public always made me nervous. I knew we wouldn't get in trouble because we didn't have anything illegal on us, but what if the professor just so happened to be around the corner? I didn't want anyone to know my business, especially when I was in class.

"I just feel so energized today!" He sighed out happily. Harry's smile didn't fade the entire time we walked. His bright green eyes wandered around the streets, watching as birds flew by us or when the leaves on the ground blew from the wind.

I thought it was cute. The way that he always seemed so positive. I wish I could've taken a page from his book on how to look at a cup that was half full instead of half empty. Harry seemed to not let a lot of things get to him. He was bulletproof in that kind of way. It was such a stark contrast compared to him this morning, barely awake yet, too.

We walked for some time quietly. Sometimes Harry would say something and I would hum back to him to let him know I was listening, but for the most part we had stayed pretty silent. It wasn't that long of a walk till we had gotten to the planetarium, walking through the doors where the cool air greeted us.

Today was a busy day today. We had been closed for the last couple of days and usually when we opened back up, there was a flood of people waiting to come watch our shows. I was surprised at how many regulars we had, even if it was the same show they had already seen before. They just loved being here.

We walked past a set of doors, past the employee only sign, and made our way into the break room where we usually put our bags. It was a small room with a set of lockers, and typically nobody ever bothered our stuff, so I felt confident in never buying a lock for the doors.

I opened up my usual locker, turning towards Harry as I stretched my hand out towards him to grab my bag. Harry glanced towards me, letting out a small 'oh' as he shrugged the bag off his back and handed it towards me.

"I wonder what show we are going to do next week." I hummed as I set my bag into my locker before closing it shut. Glancing to the right of me, Harry was standing incredibly close beside me with a shy smile on his lips.

I blinked hard, feeling my cheeks grow hot as I tried to ignore his eyes that bored into my skin. There was a funny feeling in my chest, probably just butterflies from the night before. I had wondered if he was thinking about it while he looked at me with those doe eyes of his.

"Not sure." He said softly, taking a step closer to me. I pressed my lips into a line as my back hit the locker. Harry let out a soft chuckle as he planted his feet in front of me, a sudden touch of his fingertips grazing against my arm made goosebumps rise from my skin.

"Me either." I breathed out, flicking my gaze from his fingers to his eyes. My heart was thumping at his touch. There was a newfound confidence that Harry had, and he was displaying it right in front of me. I didn't know if I had liked it or not, but the only thing that was running through my mind was someone walking in while he was this close to me.

His fingers created a cluster of goosebumps as they delicately ran up my arm, all the way to my clothed shoulders. I let out a shallow breath, parting my lips to say something, but before I could get a word out, his hands cupped the underside of my jaw. He tilted my head back, making me look directly into his eyes before inching closer to my lips.

"H-Harry..." I whispered out softly, my eyes fluttering shut slowly as his lips ghosted against mine. My name left his lips in a dewey tone, leaving my knees to nearly buckle under me before I felt his pink plush lips press against mine. My hands rested by my sides as they formed into a white knuckled fist.

His kiss was slow, and I kissed him back. Feeling his bottom lip lap over mine over and over again while his thumb slowly traced against my jawline. My stomach was on fire, and it felt good–but it also made my thoughts from earlier arise. Was this deep for him? Was it more for him? I didn't want to lead him on. I didn't want to be led on either.

Truthfully, I didn't know what I wanted and I didn't know if this was a conversation I wanted to have with him yet.

But I knew I had to.

I placed my hand against his chest, pulling my head away from him to break the kiss. A rigid breath left my lips as I looked up at his flustered features. He could only smile half-heartedly at me as his eyelashes fluttered.

Gauging the way he was looking at me, I couldn't seem to show any expression at the moment. I gulped down the frog in my throat, shifting the weight onto my other foot as I looked away from him. I felt bad. I was overthinking everything at that moment, wondering if he had been waiting to kiss me since last night.

Including last night, and this morning's actions, things seemed incredibly intimate between us. Something that I hadn't shared with anybody in a really long time. Given I was under the influence, it would only make sense that was the reason why I had let it happen. But now?

"We shouldn't...do this." I whispered out softly, clearing my hoarse throat as I stepped to the side to create some distance between us. Harry's smile wavered into a frown, his hand going from my jaw to the locker as he leaned against it.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I just thought..." He stopped himself, his face contorting in confusion before shaking his head. "I don't know what I thought... I think I just wanted to kiss you."

"I don't want you to think that I like you–" My eyes widened for a moment, the minute that the words left me. Averting my gaze towards Harry, his straight shoulders had slumped as his fingers slid down the lockers with a soft breath.

"That's not what I meant." I tried to cover up the mistake, the poor choice of words that left my lips. "I meant, I just–I don't really...want a relationship and I think our friendship is something really unique and fun...I just don't want to ruin that, you know?"

Harry's features dropped suddenly, his lips that were once curved into that lopsided smile now showed a frown so embedded, I thought the smile would never come back. His eyes left mine, shifting around the room as his hand found their way into his pocket. The silence was deafening, almost telling me everything I needed to hear from the still air. He shifted his weight onto his other foot, nodding his head slowly as he straightened his posture.

"Oh." He breathed out, a light chuckle following through as his fingers ran through his thick curls. "I just thought–because you kissed me last night..."

"We were on...acid." I whispered softly, scanning the room slowly. I let out a sigh, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth as my fingers started to pick at my cuticles once more. "I'm sorry if I made you think something differently. It was just a kiss. It's nothing serious...people kiss all the time, but it's...it's different on Earth."

"Okay." He whispered back as he grabbed his folder from the table beside him before shaking it gently towards me. "Sorry I misinterpreted our friendship." His voice was bitter, yet soft at the same time. I didn't think that someone so sweet could sound so harsh.

I turned to follow him out the door. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what to say either. I didn't know how to make this better. His steps were fast, leaving me to try to catch up to him.

"Harry–!" I tried to call out to him, but the sudden voice behind me made my body still.

"Aurora!"

I sighed out, turning my body around at the person calling my name. Professor Collins stood from behind me with a folder clutched tightly in his hands and a smile spread so wide I could have mistaken him for the Cheshire cat.

"Yes?" I pulled a soft smile on my lips, taking a step towards him. Collins really had a knick for showing up at the worst times, including today.

"Can you come into my office? I have something I want to discuss with you. No worries, though, nothing serious." He gestured towards the other end of the hallway, the opposite way of which I was trying to follow Harry down.

I glanced from behind me, seeing that Harry had already disappeared from the situation. Mentally cursing myself, I wanted to slap myself for even having that kind of conversation with him while we were at work.

"Of course..." I elongated, clutching my hand into a fist as I nodded towards him.

There was no way I was going to be able to appear as out together as I should in front of my boss. I had to at least try, but that was proving more and more difficult as each step I took towards his office—and farther away from my main issue at hand, Harry.

"I may have figured out some findings that I'd like you to look over." Professor Collins said as he jiggled the door with his key. It squawked open, the creaking noise only furthering my uneasiness.

Why would he want me to look over it anyway?

"Sure, what's it about?" I asked with a bout of curiosity. I shut the door behind me as he gestured for me to do so before I sat in front of his desk.

He cleared his throat, taking his glasses from the table and perching them onto the bridge of his nose. The sound of him stacking a pile of papers together was the only thing heard as I waited for him to respond. At one point, I could have sworn I could even hear the clock ticking behind me.

"The star—or stars, rather." He replied with a bluntness in his tone. His eyes were busy tracing over whatever was typed on the computer screen in front of him now.

"Any particular stars?" I spoke up through the noise of him typing more information into his device.

He paused his fingers against the keyboard for a moment as he briefly glanced at me from the corner of his eye. If I didn't know any better, I would have imagined his next words to revolve around me getting out of his office immediately.

The look of annoyance didn't last long as he swiveled his chair closer to my view. He had a smile on his face, and I was grateful for his patience with me. Maybe he could tell I wasn't completely myself right now. I sure as hell didn't feel like it anyway.

"The backwards shooting stars, Aurora." He replied with a slight chuckle, slipping his glasses back off of his nose and onto his desk, as if to get a better view of me.

"Oh, right. Sorry." I paused as I searched between his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking. All I got was a slight look of confusion, and I assumed it was due to my newfound awkward demeanor.

"Are you feeling alright?" He questioned with an eyebrow raised with concern. "You been sleeping okay?" His hands clasped together in front of him as they rested on the desk.

I didn't like the focus now being on me. It was actually the complete opposite that I wanted, and I needed to find a way to shift it back to the original topic. The quicker I could do that, the quicker I could leave and go find where Harry ran off to.

"No, yeah, I'm okay." I reassured with a faint smile. "Didn't sleep much last night I suppose, but it's nothing a nap can't fix."

He looked closely at me without much of an expression before finally seeing a faint curl in his lips. I almost breathed out a sigh of relief when he shifted back into his chair, looking back at the sheets of paper he was just busied with.

"Definitely do that then. Don't want to see you fall behind with your coursework or other responsibilities." He stopped for a moment as he looked back at me. "Not many students have the amount of responsibilities on your back, as well as the amount of opportunities that go along with it. Just be mindful of that."

"Of course, thank you." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I gestured towards what he was holding. "Was there new information found about it?"

He let out a sigh, and I was unsure if it was an exasperated one or one with relief that I finally seemed on board with the topic.

"Seemingly. Although, I have yet to share the information I have gathered. I wanted you to look over it with me and hear your thoughts."

My eyes widened momentarily, only further confused by his choice in picking me to give my opinion. My brain would have had a hard enough comprehending everything going on on a normal day, let alone this day — this time.

"Me? Why me?" I asked with my eyebrows scrunched, searching for answers.

"Why not? You're one of the top in your class, one of my trusted employees, and one with a natural born talent regarding the science of the stars. Do you not find yourself capable?" He asked, crossing a leg over his other.

I had never paid much attention to what he wore, let alone that he had a wedding band wrapped around his finger. It glared back at me as it clung tightly to his clothed knee, bouncing along with his foot.

"No—I mean, yes. I am capable. I just thought you would go to someone else for something so important. I would be honored to look it over." I stumbled, trying not to let the worry eat at me.

Did he know it was Harry? Was that why he wanted me to look it over? Force me to tell him what I knew? Or was this just a test to see how confident I was in my work? I was really hoping for neither, considering how badly I had already messed up this meeting.

"Great. Feel free to read this over." He said as he tilted the sheets in my direction for me to grab.

I took it with a slight shake to my fingers, and fortunately it looked to go unnoticed as Collins adjusted himself back into his desk chair.

My eyes scanned over the document quickly, trying to prepare myself for whatever it was he was going to say. I needed to prepare how I was going to reply to the news— especially if he was right about everything.

God, did I hope for him to be wrong.

"I think I've finally been able to track them. I was able to set up multiple locations with astronomical tracking devices. They have expensive views that cover a great amount of the viewable sky view." His eyes glared closely back at me, probably to gauge my reaction. There was his own twinkle of excitement shining from his eyes that made a smile, albeit nervous smile, spread across my own face.

"Really?" I sat up straighter, momentarily forgetting anything that had happened the past couple of days. All that consumed me was worry in the back of my mind. How much could have seen with all of that equipment? I had never heard of anything like it.

"Indeed." He gushed, pushing his computer monitor to face me.

Staring back at me from his screen was a multitude of shots, all lined up into rows. It was blurry but pixelated enough to distinguish what I was looking at.

Each image was a shot of the shooting star—Harry flying back down to Earth.

My eyes were glued to the screen as I tried to make out as much detail as I could. Even with just the specks of light that the camera provided, I was still in so much awe.

"It's beautiful." I accidentally spurt aloud.

I switched my intense glare to the professor, who was chuckling lightly to himself.

"Yes, mysterious scientific findings are always something of beauty, whether destructive or not." He nodded his head in triumph. It almost made me feel bad, knowing that I had the answers he was so desperate to find.

I let him have his moment, though. To be fair, I still wasn't all that sure of what he knew.

"If you look at the time stamps, it shows a pattern. See here?" He pointed a finger towards the bottom corners of each individual photo. "Approximately every 70 to 80 hours this phenomenon occurs."

I blinked hard, remembering very well of Harry's departure he had every three days. His absence had grown more and more recognizable with each time he had to leave it seemed.

I desperately wanted to dig on how much Collins knew about it, but I was scared that the more questions I asked, the more questions that would be turned in my own direction.

"What do you think?" He finally asked, filling in the silence.

"Oh, I— That's an amazing finding. What do you plan to do with it?" I did my best to even out my tone as to not show any sense of worry or anything out of the ordinary. I had to act excited which was the last thing I was.

"I'm going to continue to find more information before I go public with these findings. The last thing I need are more scientists clogging up Yellowstone and disrupting what I've worked so hard on. This will be our secret, correct?" He looked at me with a slight raise of his eyebrow. I wasn't sure if he was trying to seem intimidating, but he was doing a good job at it regardless.

"Our secret, yes. Which..." I trailed off for a moment, wanting to tread on the topic carefully. "What did you need me for? You seem much more ahead of the game than I would be. I don't know how I could be helpful."

For a moment I almost wished I knew nothing about Harry's true star form. That way I could have felt the true excitement that this news could've brought me. The Aurora I was before meeting Harry would have bursted at the seams with this information. She would have already jumped out of her chair, ready to run out the door and tell Nina about it.

But that wasn't the Aurora I needed to be right then. I needed to be the Aurora that helped protect Harry considering all he had done for me. It was the least I could do. Keeping his form secret was crucial.

"Some of the operating systems need manual assistance. It will help the quality of these photos and I'll ever be able to get video of the occurrence. Granted, it will have to happen in the perfect spot for the equipment to capture it, but I have faith that you will do great with this task." He grinned lightly.

He reached into one of his drawers, pulling out an envelope that had my name on it. It had his scraggly handwriting that I always had a hard time reading. This was probably the clearest I had ever seen and understood what was written. There was even a little loop at the end of the last "A".

Silently thanking him with a nod, I left the office as fast as I could. This was bad. This was really bad. If he was tracking the stars, then that means that Harry was in more danger–not just with the light guardians, but now with actual humans.

I was scared to think about what would happen if Collins found out about Harry. I didn't know what would happen, to say the truth, but I do know that it wouldn't be good. Harry trusted me with the secret that he was a star-being, and yet here I was–working with Collins to trace down the backwards star.

The backwards star that was Harry.

I needed to divert his attention,and fast. Before he finds out about Harry.

I swallowed the nerves down, shaking my head to myself as I made my way into the main room of the planetarium where everyone else sat. I was quiet, the room filled with people as the presentation played through the speakers. For once, I wasn't interested in listening. I was more so looking for Harry who had to be in here.

I skimmed over the crowd, and all exit points, and still could not find him. I let out a stressed sigh, running my fingers through my thick hair before turning on my heel to leave. I didn't know how I was going to tell him, but it needed to be soon. Maybe today wasn't a good day to say anything, not with what happened this morning.

I knew I had done enough damage.

After my shift, I couldn't find Harry. I don't know if he had left without me, or if he was hiding–so I walked home by myself. I remember when I used to take these walks with Harry and he always used to fill the silence with his ramblings, and how I used to find them annoying when I first met him, but now I wish that he was here to fill the silence.

I felt like a dick. Leave it to me to ruin every friendship, or potential relationship I've ever had, or will have.

The walk home was boring, and it left me feeling cold on the inside. Part of me hoped that I would run into him on the way home, but that didn't happen. Before I knew it, I was unlocking my door to my apartment and getting bombarded by Astro at the door.

For the first time, I shrugged her off and set my stuff down on the table before heading straight to the kitchen. The only thing that could make me feel better was a good meal. One of my favorites that my mom used to make. It always made me feel like home when I ate it, even if it wasn't half as good as she usually made it.

A home made soup.

She used to make it for me whenever I didn't feel good, whether it was being sick or just in a bad mood.

Although, while I was cooking, the only thing I could think of was Harry. I felt scared. Scared that I may have messed things up between the both of us, or hopefully at the least damaged a little bit of trust. I would rather damage the trust we have than to lose him forever.

I was battling with myself on the inside, and even the smells of sweet soup couldn't bring me back home this time. I knew that I needed another person's perspective from this, so I called Nina. Even hesitantly. I knew she was going to put on a whole speech about it, and she was going to say everything that I already knew, but I think I just needed a push.

The phone trilled a few times, before she finally picked up.

"What's up?!" Nina said, surely a large smile spread across her lips. I could hear it in her voice.

"Hey..." I trailed off with a sigh as I put my face into my hands.

"Uh oh, what's wrong?" Nina retorted back.

"I'm so stupid, Nina." I whined out, throwing my head back as if I was going to scream 'why me?!' or, 'why do I keep doing this to myself?!'

"Okay, first of all, you're not." Nina stopped my personal insults instantly. "Secondly, what happened?"

"What didn't happen?" I scolded myself, pressing a palm to my forehead as I hit myself multiple times against the head lightly. "I'm the worst kind of person. Okay, so uh... me and Harry kissed last night."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Do you really expect me to be shocked? You act like I haven't seen you give that boy googly eyes all night." Nina cackled out.

"Ugh, whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Anyways, I'm just saying...we kissed and um...this morning we went to work and he kissed me again. Like, at first I was like okay this is...fine? I guess, but at the same time, I think that I–"

"Do not tell me you are fighting with your feelings over this boy." Nina said sternly. "It is obvious that you like him, Aurora. Why are you doing this to yourself? If you like him, then just tell him."

"It's not that simple, asshole. I can't just–" I stopped myself, sighing out. "It's not that. I just don't know if I...am ready for something like that. My ex really did a number on me. She was everything I wanted and more. I thought we were going to get married, and then we didn't. I still feel like I'm emotionally recovering from that."

"Did he say anything about a relationship to you?"

"No..."

"Then why are you suddenly jumping to thinking about relationships? You didn't have a problem grinding all over Brandon's dick that one night, so what's the difference now?" Nina scolded, her voice was more harsh to get her point across.

"Because I like him, Nina!" The words left my lips faster than I could stop them. I blinked hard, looking down at the phone when the silence started to string through. "Because...he's so nice, Nina. He's so smart, so considerate. Emotional. He is the most human I have seen anybody in a really long time. He doesn't bury his face into a phone, or try to–fucking mansplain things to me. He just–is the most vulnerable person I have ever met, and I like him so much..." I whispered out as I batted tears that blurred my vision.

"It scares me." I whispered shakily.

"Aurora..." Nina said softer. "If you like him so much, then why don't you tell him? Ryan and I saw the way he was looking at you last night. You don't look at friends the way he was looking at you...I want you to be happy, honey, but you need to be honest with yourself, and honest with him. If you keep getting scared with every person you grow an emotional connection with, then you will never know if it works out in the end. Harry may work out, or he won't. Isn't that a chance you're willing to take?"

Her words rang true, and I secretly hated it. I almost took it as an insult, but I knew it was coming from a place of love. Since me and my ex broke up, I felt like everything after that has just been emotionless sex and pushing away anybody that comes close to me. I've been scared to get my heart broken again, but if I were to get my heart broken from anybody, I would want it to be by Harry. I liked him. I really, really liked him, and that was something that I could no longer deny.

"I have to go." I suddenly said as I picked up the phone.

"Where?" Nina suddenly squealed.

"I'm doing what I should've done a while ago." I said before hanging the phone up, not letting her speak another word.

I shoved the phone into my pocket, rushing towards the front door as I scooped up my keys and jacket on the way out. I felt like my heart was bursting, like this was some cliché rom-com that I was starring in. This was my main character moment. I could see it in my head.

This was the part in the movie where I fled to the man of my dreams to spill my guts. Take a sharp knife and carve out my heart, and hand it to him on a silver platter and say: "This is yours. It's always been yours."

The cold wind brushed past me as I ran past the strangers on the sidewalks. They looked at me, out of script. A smile etched onto my lips, they must've thought I was on my way to the airport to chase down the love of my life and tell them that they can't leave. That I need them here and they are making a big mistake by going.

I was getting funny looks, but I didn't care. I wasn't running like it was a hobby, and people knew that. Nobody in their right minds would be running in vans with jeans and a sweater on. I was running with a purpose, and although my anxiety was trying to replace the way my chest was feeling–the adrenaline was overtaking every doubt I had.

When I rounded myself around the corner of Harry's street, I could taste him on my lips. I could feel his fingers burning into my skin. Everything leading up to this moment was flooding through my mind, all the memories we made together thus far. I felt like this was the part when the rain started to pour down to soak me in my own emotions while I got on my knees to recite some shitty Shakespeare poem that I memorized from eighth grade.

I didn't think about it. I jumped up his steps, standing as close as I could to the door before knocking on it hard, and faster than I would like to admit. I didn't notice the small layer of sweat that spread across my forehead until my heart started to slow down. I quickly wiped the sweat with my sleeve, letting in a deep breath as I waited for Harry to answer. Hopefully with open arms.

A click was heard, and I immediately took a step back. My breathing was still heavy, and it was very apparent that I just ran three blocks to get here. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them back up there he was.

Harry stood there. Wearing that faded band shirt that was too big, and sweatpants that were really baggy on him. His brows pinched, confusion spread across his face as he etched his eyes all over me.

"Aurora? What are you...are you okay?" Harry opened the door more, eyes wandering the surroundings. "Did you run here? Why are you perspiring?"

"Harry, I–" I breathed out hard, waving a hand in front of my face before bending over to take a deep breath. "I gotta...I gotta talk to you."

"Oh." He pursed his lips, taking a step back from the door before swinging the door wider. "Come in."

I gulped down thickly, taking in deep breaths through my nose as I walked into his house. I regret wearing this jacket now, and I shed it off before holding it to my chest tightly. Harry closed the door behind me, taking small steps towards the kitchen as I settled in the room.

"Water? It's all I have..." Harry trailed off softly as he ran some water from the tap into a glass. I nodded quickly, whispering a small thank you to him. He nodded towards me, setting the glass down onto the table before taking a step back to look over me.

I took a few good gulps of the water, trying to ignore the tension in the room. Suddenly I didn't feel like the main character anymore, and I didn't feel like I had a right to gush my feelings out to him after what I said this morning.

"I'm sorry." I started out with a sigh, pushing the stray hairs back that stood from my head. "I'm sorry for what I said this morning. If I hurt your feelings, that really wasn't my intention. I feel like shit about what happened, and I just had to come talk to you."

Harry slithered his hands into his pocket, nodding carefully as he listened to my plea. His lips pursed as he avoided eye contact with me, which hurt enough. I felt the sting in my chest, and it didn't feel good at all.

"That's okay, Aurora." He said quietly. "As I said this morning, I misinterpreted our friendship. That was my fault–"

"You didn't." I interjected, taking a step towards him as my desperate eyes searched around his face for emotion. "You didn't and that's why I feel like shit. What you think about us is true. I'm just a fucking idiot, and I can't–I couldn't bring myself to terms with that, but I brought myself to the realization tonight."

Harry's eyes slowly panned downwards to mine. Finally meeting my gaze, his face softened as he looked down at my distraught emotions that splayed across my face. I swallowed the frog in my throat, pushing back the feeling that I was going to choke on all the emotions and words that tried to spill from my lips.

I needed to say it. Out loud. I needed my Bella and Edward moment. Well, instead of one of us confessing that we were a vampire–it was much worse than that. I was going to be vulnerable, which is something that I didn't think I could ever do again.

"I like you, Harry." I whispered out shakily. The words were vomit, and I felt my throat burn at the taste of them. My anxiety thumped through my chest, fingers gripping tightly on my jacket as I tried to steady my feet. "I like you a lot. I just don't know if I want a relationship right now, but I want to figure it out. I really, really like you."

Harry's eyes slightly widened, almost making him take a step back, but he planted his feet back onto the ground firmly. The only thing that I could do was stand here and wait for him to accept it and tell me the same thing, or reject me. Say that he doesn't want to get hurt. Say that it was against his mission to be here with me, and that he wasn't allowed to like me.

Harry was a man that went by the rules, and I prayed to whatever god was out there that he would break one of them tonight. I knew that it was against everything his father told him, but I needed this.

I needed him.

He took a step closer to me, hands slithering out of his pockets to snake up my arms carefully. I took a step towards him, easing into his embrace as his fingers caressed both sides of my face. I fluttered my eyes shut, feeling Harry's hot breath on my lips before they met each other for the third time in twenty-four hours. I inhaled sharply, letting go of my jacket to drop to the floor before wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

We were impossibly close with one another, lips meshing with one another as we kissed in the only way we knew how. It was full of all of our truths, all of our emotions that we were scared to say before. He didn't need to say anything because I could taste it on him. He liked me too, and that was something he couldn't deny.

My fingers got lost into his curls, squeezing my eyes shut as we smacked against one another. His thumbs stroked against my skin, and I felt my knees nearly buckle once again. The way he had a hold over me, and I was letting him. I was letting him take me over, my whole soul and being. I wanted him to hurt me, and love me, in the most suffocating way possible.

When he pulled away from the kiss, I felt myself nearly melt into a puddle of mush to the floor. I looked up at him, watching as he rolled his lips into his mouth with a slight smirk.

"I really like you too, Aurora." He whispered softly back to me, booping my nose with the tip of his finger. "This is, perhaps, one of the best confessions that I've ever heard before."

I chuckled lightly, shaking my head as I pulled him into a hug tightly. Nuzzling my nose into his chest, he wrapped his large arms around me as he rubbed my back carefully.

"I forgive you." He added. "I was worried that I made things...uh...weird?"

"No, no." I sighed out. "You didn't. You made them wonderful, and I'm glad it happened. I really am sorry, again, really."

"Stop apologizing." He said softly as his nose nuzzled into my hair before looking down at me. "I'm just happy we share the same feelings. You have no idea how this makes me feel. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of it's cage. I've never felt this way before, although it's a bit uncomfortable, might I add."

"It happens–" I said softly, pushing his curls from his face slowly. "Because I feel the same way."

"And this is a good thing?" Harry asked softly with a tilt of his head.

"It's a really good thing." I whispered back to him with a smile.

"Okay." He said back with a lopsided smile. "Then I would like to feel this with you."

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 2 years ago

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Damn Teenagers and their Satanic Rituals | Winchesters and Hawkins Crew

Prompt: Crossover

Words: 1155

Fandom: Stranger Things x Supernatural

A/N: You have no idea how many different fics I tried to write to fulfill either of those prompts but I couldn’t finish it before I had my eyeball doctor appointment. Then my laptop crashed because of the dang usb printer bug that’s still not fixed and then the wifi stopped working so… late writer's month entry.

Summary: The Winchesters are teleported to a small town called Hawkins in the year 1986 where a great earthquake had hit. They’ve been through enough world-ending events to know that it was no ordinary earthquake.

“Great. This is just great,” Dean grumbled, “Kids need to stop messing with satanic rituals, man. How many times we gotta step in because some demon is wrecking the town all because some girls at a sleepover found a demonic book at a random bookstore and ran away from home? And look! Where the hell are we, ‘cause it sure ain’t Kansas. Cas! Get your angel ass over here!”

Sam huffed, taking in his surroundings for clues. They had been tracking a group of missing girls who were obsessed with conspiracy theories and the supernatural who ran away from home as soon as the demon they summoned started killing people. Sam and Dean took care of it quickly and had to find those girls before they did something that could cause harm to anyone else and themselves.

They ran far, even taking night buses before their trail got cold. Cas had to help locate them and teleported the brothers in the middle of a forest where the girls were holding a ritual. Something went wrong and the brothers were engulfed in a bright red light before waking up on the cold hard ground.

He followed the sound of cars and horns bleeping, coming up to a cracked road lined with fully packed cars and moving vans. Old cars, he noted. His eyebrows raised as he spotted a large wooden sign just beyond the treeline. He stumbled over, his brain still foggy from sleep. “Hawkins?” He frowned. Where did he hear of Hawkins before?

“Well?” His brother asked, coming up behind him. “The hell’s goin’ on here?”

Sam gestured to the sign. “At least we’re near a town, but it looks like everyone’s… fleeing from something.”

Dean let out a world-weary sigh, tilting his head up in exhaustion. He squinted his eyes, realizing the discoloration of the sky. He stepped out closer to the road, seeing heavy plumes of smoke coming from the town. He exchanged a look with his brother before approaching one of the cars. The woman rolled her window down, looking up at his with a wary look.

“Hey, uh, where’s everyone headed?” Dean asked, flashing an innocent smile. Start with simple questions, play ignorance.

She frowned, turning her head to look at her husband. “Are you an idiot? There’s been a fuckin’ earthquake that split the town!” he shouted, leaning over his wife.

“Gerald, language! The kids are listening,” the woman scolded.

“My bad. My brother and I were out camping when it happened,” Dean said with a shrug.

The woman nodded in pity. “Well, if you head into town, they’ve set up a shelter at the school’s gym. I’d advise you to be mindful of the roads and stay indoors. Military and disaster relief said there’s some toxic gas that was released from some underground tunnel system that burst when the earthquake happened.”

“Government coverup, just like last time when that girl died,” her husband interjected.

“Excuse me?”

Before he could get an answer, the car started moving again. Another exchange of looks of worry between him and Sam, another hellish nightmare that they can’t avoid.

They started making their way towards town, the plumes of smoke getting closer and closer as well as the stench. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything sulphuric. Dean pulled out his phone and cursed, seeing not only no service, but the screen blanking out.

“What the hell is going on?” he muttered.

“Dean?” Sam called out, hitting his arm.

Dean looked up, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Now he knew why that lady warned about the roads. Giant cracks split one of the roads completely with a strange red-orangish glow emitting from the gap and smoke leaking through. A military truck drove through slowly, a soldier signaling them to keep moving. Sam asked him where the shelter was and he stiffly pointed in the direction before tapping the hood of the truck to drive. They kept moving, feeling the road almost endless, until they decided to cut through the woods.

“So, what are we thinking?” Sam started.

“Thick smoke? That giant crack in the road? And I’m talking giant, like, it just kept going to practically the center of the town,” Dean said, gesturing in the vague direction of the road. “So, what, we’ve got another apocalypse on our hands?”

Sam grimaced. “Cas not answering?”

Dean shook his head. “Come on, Cas! If it’s another apocalypse that heaven and hell wants to start up again, now would be a good time to tell us!” They waited a beat, turning in circles to see where the man might pop up. Nothing.

“Well, one way to find out,” Sam muttered, jerking his head to a log cabin that he could see just up ahead.

They jogged ahead, slowing down once they were within hearing distance of the cabin. There were cars in the bushes, covered in branches and leaves, the windows heavily boarded up as well as a large hole that was simply patched up instead of a proper fix. There was a muffled thud coming from inside, followed by a hiss. They silently agreed to split, rounding the cabin in opposite directions.

Just as they stepped closer, Sam’s food got caught in a hidden tripwire, setting off an alarm. The brothers cursed, looking for a place for cover when a large bald man with a shotgun came out, leveling the barrel on them. He narrowed his eyes, observing them closely.

“You lost, fellas?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam said, stepping forward. The man jerked the gun in his direction. Sam raised his hands in surrender, stepping back again. “Truth is, we don’t know what’s going on. We’re trying to find the town and ended up finding your cabin.”

“Dad,” came a young girl’s voice. A girl with her head also shaved stepped off the front porch and approached the man. She reached out and squeezed his arm, a tattoo of the number eleven shown on her wrist. “It’s okay. I saw them coming. I think I know why they’re here. They can help us.”

The man, apparently her father, grumbled as he lowered his shotgun. “No funny business, okay, boys?” he said before stomping back into the cabin.

The girl smiled at them. “I’m Eleven,” she said, sticking her hand out.

Sam frowned. “Eleven?”

She nodded. He hummed, sending a confused look at his brother who gestured to just go with it. He took Eleven’s hand and shook it. Her smile widened, then she turned to Dean who readily took her hand and shook.

“Come, let’s meet the others,” she said. They began to follow her until she stopped. “I forgot.” She held her hand out and the tripwire moved on its own, resetting itself. When that was done, she nodded and turned back to the cabin.

“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah, no shit.”

#writersmonth2022 #writer's month #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn #strangers things fic #stranger things imagine #hawkins crew #the winchesters #stranger things x supernatural #st x spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #jim hopper #el hopper

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azurelyy · 3 years ago

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Ah noooo! Sorry to hear you've finally got the Rona. 😔 I hope you feel better soon.

As for how the various Naruto men would look after a s/o with it, may I request my king of the Uchihas, Itachi? 🥰😍

Ahh, thank you so much!

OMG a request from Donna! I am honored. I hope I do your king justice.

Shippuden Men Helping Their S/O Through COVID:

Itachi

Itachi places the at-home testing strip onto the kitchen counter, sets a timer on the oven, and waits.

The fifteen minutes feel like they stretch on for eons as he paces the length of your small, one-bedroom apartment kitchen, constantly glancing over at you on the couch with his midnight eyes.

He turns the timer off and the stillness in the air is palpable, before you hear him hum.

"You have COVID, my dear."

He walks over to you and kisses your slightly sweaty forehead, slicking stray pieces of hair back into place.

"How's the temperature? Is your water full? Do you need... anything?"

He asks, pacing the room and checking everything, moving to the next question before you can respond. Thermostat: 70 degrees. Water: Full and icy.

His last question hangs in the air, tension seeping into his core. If you don't answer soon, he might just snap.

"N-No," You cough. "I'm okay. Thank you, Tachi."

You are the single thing in this world that can make him feel like he is simultaneously bursting into flames and soaring through Cloud Nine. He smiles his cute, crooked smile and sits on the floor in front of you on the couch, leaning his head back to look at you.

"I'll be here, if you do." He pokes your forehead with his two fingers and you feel what was left of your brain disintegrate.

"Actually," You groan. His dark eyes widen and he's looking into your soul, his expression hard to read through your foggy state. "I'm kind of cold."

He pats your cheek gently, hoisting himself up from the floor.

"I'll get you a blanket and the heating pad."

He walks away, giving you a final glance before he is fully out of your view, and you smile through your pounding headache, closing your eyes as the air shifts around you and a blanket is draped over your body.

Request your own sick headcanon.

#ask away #delirious-donna #itachi headcanons #azurelyy scribbles

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #hurt comfort #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harry holland

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