#and i have to physically stop myself from screeching

[gojoidyll]

marry me

ch 1. tossed like a salad

as a new student of jujutsu sorcery, you are sent as a transfer student to japan to help out over there. what you didn't realize was how much stronger the cursed spirits are...

table of contents | next

“So, this is Japan!”

You were beaming brightly as you exited through the arrival doors of the airport. Your eyes were wide with wonder and your hands were resting on your hips.

Then, glancing around the crowded place and at the different people who were bustling about and waiting for their rides or going to their own vehicles, you finally spotted what you were looking for. Bounding over to it, you crouched down.

“Why hello there little cursed spirit. Have you been manifested from someone’s depression?”

“Mommy? Why is that girl acting so weird?”

“Ignore her sweety. Crazy people are dangerous.”

You pursed your lips as you gave them the side eye.

“Normies will never understand...,” you muttered dejectedly before brightening suddenly and jumping up with a smile.

“Anyway, cursed spirit! I best exorcise you! Domain expan-“

“What are you doing?!”

Someone whacked you hard in the head causing you to wince, “ow! Hey! What was that for?!”

You turned to come face to face with Yaga. A teacher you had a meeting with over the phone about your transfer to Japan. You don’t know the exact reason, but apparently there has been an influx of cursed spirits in Japan, so to combat this the sorcery schools have been reaching out to various countries to see if they could have any of their students transfer.

Your country was the only one who agreed.

“Why were you about to release a domain expansion against such a low level and tiny curse?!”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you gained a defiant look in your eye, “isn’t that obvious? I go all out in every single battle I am in, no matter the opponent. Besides, if I have an overpowered ability, then why not use it? Besides, I promised myself that if I ever got any strong abilities then I will use them on the get-go! There is no reason for me to let my enemy recover or see my full attacks. If I can cut someone down with a single domain expansion, then I am going to do it.”

“You’re-“

“Amazing? Great? Super awesome?!”

“Weird.”

“Ouch. Rude ass son of a-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

You huffed again as he placed a hand on your shoulder, “now that I found you, I’ll be taking you to Jujutsu Tech. There you will be joining three others where you-“

Behind you there was a scream followed by an explosion, grinning you turned towards the noise to spot a newly manifested cursed spirit. You could practically sense the fear of flight coming off of it.

“There was a sudden scream and an explosion, so the new transfer student with an awesome set overpowered skills was about to jump into action-“

“Are you narrating your actions?!”

You ignored Yaga as you placed your hands together, “domain expansion-“

You were cut off when the cursed spirit let out a loud, banshee-like screech that sounded exactly like your sister.

Spotting you instantly, the cursed spirit flung it’s fist right at you, but you merely smirked and closed your eyes whilst shaking your head.

“What a dumbass. Physical attacks don’t work on me especially with such a weak curse- OOF!”

The punch sent you flying the moment it made contact. Your body was sent flying through the glass instantaneously.

“Idiot! Cursed spirits in the city are way stronger than the country side that you came form!”

Groaning you got up and picked some of the glass out that punctured through your clothes and skin, “the protagonist was taken aback by the powerful attack and was dramatically sent flying backwards-“

“Stop narrating!”

Yaga was about to punch you himself, until he saw you bring your hands together forming that same hand sign from before, “Domain expansion.”

The wind seemed to stop, the atmosphere grew heavy, and it was as if the screaming children and adults faded out in the background.

You opened your eyes and pointed behind the curse, your fist enclosed and your index finger jutting outward, “Perfect Distraction! Oh my god is that Chris Hemsworth with his shirt off?!”

The silence was deafening.

Yaga simply had no words and was about to yell at you again, but he was stopped immediately when he actually saw the cursed spirit turn its head.

“No way that worked!”

Smirking, you ran. Your legs carrying you swiftly as you jumped over fallen pedestrians and debris.

"She easily jumped over the people like they were obstacles in a running video game. Her feet carrying her right to her target! And with a victorious grin she called out to the curse."

She sprang forward.

“Gotcha!”

The cursed spirit was too late to try to stop you as you punched a giant hole into its chest. A wave of cursed energy crashing over it causing it to disappear instantly, and just as you began to fall you managed to catch the lady as well.

“You're safe now ma’am,” you managed to say as you dropped your voice down low causing Yaga to facepalm.

“R- right, thank you…er…”

You smiled as you set her down, “you can call me Y/n L/n!”

Before the lady could say anything else, she was ushered away by a paramedic leaving Yaga to march over to you.

“What was that?!”

“What was what?”

“That dumbass domain expansion!”

“OH, that? Yeah, I don’t actually have a domain expansion. Though, that distraction was pure genius, right?”

“And what made you think shirtless Chris Hemsworth was a good distraction?! At a public airport in Japan no less!”

You shrugged, “listen, be it curse or human, no one can deny the charms of that man.”

Yaga resisted the urge to strangle you and reminded himself that you were just a cringey teenager, “I change my mind. You aren’t just weird. You’re stupid too.”

“Well, to me, you’re still a rude ass son of a bi-“

“Don’t finish that.”

“Aye, aye Captain! Now, when do I join this sorcery school where super cool sorcerers go?"

“Today.”

“Awesome! Do I get a cool uniform? Oh, and how about a hero name or an awesome nickname? What about-“

“Just… shut it before I send you back home.”

There was a brief moment of silence as he walked you to the car, and other sorcerers appeared to come and help clean up the mess.

And just as he unlocked the car doors-

“She then grabs the door handle; her heart was beating fast. Her breath unsteady. This was her new beginning. Will she-“

“And stop narrating already!”

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pls know that some say "no blogs found" when i try to tag them ( ｡ﾟДﾟ｡)

you all don't know this yet, but i absolutely cooked with this chapter, sorry for the wait btw. i had rewritten this chapter 5 times because i 1) wasn't sure how i wanted to start it and 2) didn't like how I was writing the reader insert. So, this is what I came up with. A cringey teenager living her best life!! I hope you all enjoy <3

[jaeyunverse]

the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?” 

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!” 

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression. 

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?” 

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.” 

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?” 

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.  

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.” 

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived. 

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill. 

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.  

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras. 

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up. 

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you. 

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you. 

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults. 

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.   

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to. 

And damn, they were right. 

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware. 

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self. 

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see. 

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails. 

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.  

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date. 

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed. 

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory. 

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind. 

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you. 

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.” 

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.” 

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?” 

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.” 

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.” 

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.  

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him. 

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall. 

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it. 

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.” 

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call. 

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet. 

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake. 

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too. 

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?” 

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.” 

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.” 

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.” 

“What do they mean?” 

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”  

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.” 

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!” 

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.” 

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!” 

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.” 

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.” 

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.” 

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.” 

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.” 

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.” 

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.” 

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.” 

 “Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?” 

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily. 

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.” 

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided. 

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded. 

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court. 

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.” 

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.” 

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.” 

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses. 

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?” 

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.” 

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.” 

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?” 

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting. 

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you. 

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it. 

You never meant it. 

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally. 

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!” 

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.   

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics. 

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.” 

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?” 

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.” 

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.” 

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you. 

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.” 

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you. 

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car. 

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes. 

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.” 

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace. 

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe. 

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”  

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. 

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.” 

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow. 

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it. 

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to. 

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!” 

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?” 

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.” 

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.  

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs. 

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat. 

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure. 

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.” 

 “You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!” 

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.” 

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore. 

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped. 

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?” 

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions. 

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word. 

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws. 

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers. 

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing. 

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture. 

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time. 

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him. 

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.” 

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!” 

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?” 

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.” 

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour. 

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale. 

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.” 

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being. 

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.  

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.” 

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?” 

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed. 

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?” 

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor. 

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw. 

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it. 

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did. 

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.” 

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—” 

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said. 

“W—what?” he croaked. 

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.” 

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts. 

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him. 

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth. 

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck. 

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his. 

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape. 

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder. 

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before. 

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully. 

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth. 

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.” 

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going. 

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.  

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway. 

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.” 

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.” 

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath. 

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again. 

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.” 

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks. 

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated. 

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?” 

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.” 

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!” 

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?” 

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?” 

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.” 

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.” 

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!” 

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.” 

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?” 

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Love.” 

[ellecdc]

What about the kids (CBBH) seeing the ‘mudblood’ scar on Vix arm for the first time, and then the kids, specially Draco, trying to comfort her.

James and Sirius feeling guilty again because (James) “abandoned” her (no he didn’t) and (Sirius) cause he couldn’t protect her

Thank you so much, feel free to ignore it if you want to, but thank you anyway

Take care and don’t forget to drink water❤️

Ps: I love everything you write, thank you so much for providing us those precious chapters

*Takes a big ol' sip of water* *Cracks knuckles* *types furiously*

I LOVE these kinds of requests...I love diving deeper into the relationships and the histories further than what CBBH covered, so thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this! 🫶

CBBH Sirius Black x Vix!reader CW: hurt/comfort, discussions of war, PTSD, trauma, guilt, reference to death of a loved one, children, spoiler alerts if you haven't finished CBBH

The Mind Forgets but the Heart Doesn't

It had been a really trying week. 

Percy and the Twins had gotten into it during class one day this week at Potter Manor, and though James and Molly did what they could to placate the situation when it happened, it seemed to bleed out into the other kids as well.

Harry and Draco didn’t seem to be able to agree on anything at all anymore, Jasmine felt the need to play mediator to their squabbles which just aggravated everyone further, and Aurora was far too sensitive for her own good and took everything anyone said personally.

The adults didn’t seem to be fairing much better either.

You and Lily were expecting at the same time. It was very funny when Lily & James went to announce that they were expecting only to have Y/N & Sirius laugh and say ‘same’. Remus never stopped joking that the family would finally have a ‘set of twins’. 

Lily stopped taking the jokes so well as her pregnancy progressed, however.

“This is absolutely, without a doubt, the last one Potter!” She screeched as she excused herself from the dinner table for the sixth time to pee.

You were such a trooper, but Sirius knew that this pregnancy was taking far more out of you both emotionally and physically than your last one had.

The part that hurt (everyone) the most, was that your brain still associated pain and discomfort with your trauma from the war, and the wounds felt far more fresh lately than they had in a long time.

This left both James and Sirius feeling horribly guilty – James for having left you on the battlefield, and Sirius both for being the cause of your current discomfort and for the months during the war that he spent wallowing when he should have been fighting for you.

Sirius would wake up in the middle of the night and reach for you to find the bed empty. He’d go to check both Aurora and Draco’s room’s first before moving on to the rest of the house.

One particularly upsetting night he found you hiding in the shower after you had a distressing and disturbingly realistic nightmare.

But usually, he found you in the kitchens.

“What are you doing up, my love?” He spoke quietly into the room.

You must have heard him coming because you never even turned your head from where you were sitting; you just offered him a quiet hum in response as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and nuzzled his face into your neck.

His hands would migrate lower to what was usually the reason for your midnight wanders.

“Little one hungry?”

You were quiet for a moment, clearly far away from Potter Manor, before you responded.

“There were times I was only ever able to eat at night... when someone could sneak something to me or I could sneak to the kitchens. But sometimes, now, I wake up a little hungry – and my heart tells me that this is going to be my only chance, and I have to make it count. I tell myself it’s not true but... the anxiety doesn’t go away until I do something about it.”

Sure enough, in front of you on the table was a half-eaten granola bar; evidence of your late-night forage for food.

“What was it that Lily said about those muggle dementia patients?” Sirius asked you as he rubbed up and down your arms.

“The mind forgets but the heart doesn’t.” You responded quietly.

Sirius hummed into your hair as he pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“You’ve done so much work, love. But I don’t think you’ll ever be able to convince your heart to let it go – not fully.”

You sighed miserably, suddenly sounding very close to tears.

“Please be patient with yourself.” He pleaded.

“I’m trying.” You whispered wetly.

“I know, baby. I know.”

This was why the following morning at the breakfast table when Harry – seemingly out of nowhere – asked what a “mudblood” was, the room fell painfully silent.

The adults all seemed to share horrified glances before Regulus spoke up.

“Where did you hear that word, Harry?”

Harry, slightly ashamed now that he seemed to have sucked the air out of the room, looked at you and motioned towards your arm.

Sure enough, as you had reached across the table to pass Remus the plate of bacon, your sleeve had ridden up and your scar was on full display.

Why’d we teach these ankle biters to read? Sirius wondered to himself.

To Sirius’ absolute horror, you seemed to completely shut down. You hastily pulled your sleeve down and moved your arms into your lap, and your eyes turned foggy. 

“Please don’t occlude baby, stay with us.” Sirius begged quietly as he began to rub your arm.

“Haz, when you and Draco were very little, there was a war – do you remember me and daddy telling you about it?” Lily started cautiously.

“Uh huh, when the bad guy hated people who were different and stole Auntie Vix?”

James grimaced before confirming. “Yes, and how Uncle Reggie and Draco’s mummy Narcissa helped her escape and then defeat the bad guy.” 

“Well, the bad guy and his friends did hate people who were different than them. Mostly, they hated non-magical people,” Lily continued.

“Called muggles.” Harry interjected proudly.

“Right, he hated muggles. And he hated muggle-born witches and wizards as well.” James finished.

“But...mummy and Aunt Lily are muggle-born...” Draco added quietly from his place.

James nodded. “That’s right. And because they hated them, they made up a bad word to call muggle-born’s.”

“That’s what mudblood is, Harry. It’s a bad word to call a muggle-born witch or wizard.” Regulus spoke softly.

Jasmine gasped. “Mum! Did Harry say a bad word!?”

“I was only asking a question!” Harry screeched in his own defence.

“But... why is the bad word on your arm?” Draco asked quietly, looking at you.

Your son addressing you directly seemed to pull you out of yourself a little as you offered him a sad smile. “Well, when the bad guy stole me, I wouldn’t tell him what they wanted to know.”

“What did the bad guy want to know?” Jasmine asked curiously. 

Harry elbowed his sister for interrupting, which earned him a whack on the head in return, which caused Remus to switch seats with his niece in an effort to keep the peace.

“They wanted to know where your mummy and daddy and Harry were. They also wanted to know where Pads and Moony and everyone else in the Order were.” 

“Like the Weasley’s!?” Harry asked in horror, as news of your best friend potentially being on some maniac’s hitlist would do to an almost nine-year-old, even though said maniac was already after him and his entire family.

“But you wouldn’t tell them.” Jasmine stated solemnly.

You nodded at your niece. “That’s right.”

“But why was my mum and Uncle Reggie there?” Draco asked. 

You and Sirius both grimaced as you looked to Regulus, whose jaw seemed more tense than usual. 

“Our family comes from a long line of very bad people, Draco. The Black’s...mine and your dad’s family, as well as your mums, were not kind to people who were different from them. They supported the bad guy during the war, I-”

“But dad didn’t support the bad guy...and he’s a Black.” Draco interrupted as he turned to look at his father pleadingly.

Sirius smiled softly at the boy. “Yes, but you see, Draco, I had friends like Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony, and your mum here, who taught me that it was okay to be different. And Uncle Prongs’ family also gave me a place to go when I no longer agreed or felt safe with my family. Uncle Reggie didn’t have the same kind of friends.” 

“Your friends were bad guys?” Harry asked plainly.

“Yes.” Regulus answered just as plainly. 

“So...my family was...bad?” Draco asked quietly, looking between you, Sirius, and Regulus.

“Not all of them baby, not Uncle Reggie, and not your mum.” You tried to placate, but Draco didn’t bite.

“But they were there! Supporting the bad guy! That makes them bad!” He insisted.

“No, it made us cowards.” Regulus corrected the boy. “I was too afraid to ask your dad or his friends for help, even though I knew that Sirius would take me in if I asked him to. And your mum did what was expected of her, Draco. Your mum believed marrying your dad and having you was the right thing to do.”

“Draco,” you said quietly as the boy tried to fight back tears. “If your mum and Uncle Reggie hadn’t been there, I would not be alive today. And quite frankly, I think that could be the same for a lot of us in this room. They saved us, baby. Your mummy saved you. There’s nothing bad about that.”

Draco still seemed perturbed by this but looked back down to your now hidden scar.

“But someone...hurt you? With that word? Was it my family?”

You shared a look with Sirius who offered you a small nod before you answered. “It was. It was your aunt...your mum’s sister.”

Draco seemed distraught at the news; his mouth turned down miserably and his eyes filled with tears. “My family was bad.”

“Dad, was my family bad!?” Harry asked severely. 

“Haz, hang on, okay bubs?” James asked quietly. 

“That’s right Draco, your family was bad.” You said.

Every head – child and adult alike – whipped to face you.

“They were bad people...but they’re not anymore. Your family is the people in this room, and your mum who died protecting you. You have Uncle Reggie, who was so brave to save me and to turn against the bad guy he was supposed to be loyal to. You have Uncle Moony, who despite doing very hard things every month, doesn’t ask anything of anyone and gives so much of himself to the people he loves. And you have Uncle Prongs and Aunt Lily, who helped us raise you when daddy and I had no idea what we were doing. And you have Haz, and Jazzy, and Rory and two new siblings coming soon. That’s your family, Draco, and they’re not bad at all.”

Draco scanned the room of all the people he loved the most as a few tears fell, and Sirius was quick to catch them with his finger from his place beside him. 

“I’m sorry the bad guys hurt you, mummy. I wish they hadn’t.” He offered finally.

“Oh! I know!” Aurora piped up out of nowhere (Sirius actually sort of forgot his own daughter was present at the breakfast table) and quickly stood from her seat to hurry away. 

Before the adults had time to ponder where the child had gone, she reappeared beside her mum with the first aid kit from one of the loos and her toy Mediwitch Kit. 

“Okay, mummy. Show Healer Ro where it hurts.” She demanded you in her most authoritative tone, which still sounded far too much like Alvin the Chipmunk to be taken at all seriously.

Sirius grinned down at his girl and pulled her up into his lap (for better access, of course) as you pulled your sleeve up on your arm to expose your scar.

Aurora tapped a fake wand to the injury and held a stethoscope to her ear. “It sounds good mummy; means you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, good.” You sighed in faux relief, failing to bite back the proud smile adorning your face.

“Yup, now just needs plasters. I have some golden snitches, unicorns, or bowtruckles, mummy. Which would you like?”

“I think she ought to have some of each, Ro.” Harry interjected from across the room.

“Quite right, Haz. Healer Ro, could you use some assistance with the plasters?” Sirius asked like a spokesman on a game show.

“Yes sir!” She answered, and each kid took turns applying plasters to your scar and kissing it better.

“Looks better already!” Jasmine cheered after their work was complete.

“Hmmmm...I don’t know...” Sirius said skeptically. “Could use a few more kisses I think.” Before he attacked you with kisses, and the kids followed in suit shortly after.

@ttulipwritezz

[osamufication]

enigma

pairing: dazai x reader

warnings: none, just soft fluff♡

wc: 520

a/n: i wrote this when i was sad lol

Dazai is, to most, an enigma. 

His true feelings and motivations stay locked in a safe, so much so that even he forgets who he really is at times. Those who tried breaking open the safe were laughably unsuccessful. There have been those he tricked into thinking they really knew him, only to be left alone in the dark. 

But you didn’t try, you didn’t judge, you trusted him. An unwavering trust Dazai had only ever felt from one other person in his life. It took time, and patience, but eventually Dazai simply handed you the key. He allowed you to finally look inside that infinitely brilliant and broken mind of his. 

You place your mug of tea on the ring-stained coffee table before taking a seat amongst the cushions on the couch. You pull out your phone, deciding to indulge in a while of mindless scrolling. You rhythmically swipe and and sip your tea, late afternoon sunbeams lighting up the room. 

A while passes, the sun almost entirely disappearing over the horizon, when the front door clicks open. You smile softly as Dazai wanders in, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his coat. He greets you with a tired grin, “I’ve missed you today darling.”

You scoot up to give him room to sit beside you, “Looks like you had a rough day, wanna talk about it?” 

He shakes his head, “Not particularly, no.” He glances down at you, a playful glint in his eyes, “But I know what I do want.”

Before you can ask, Dazai unceremoniously flops down on top of you, making you screech. You want to scold him for scaring you, but his gleeful laughter stops you. He buries his face against your neck, leaving a soft kiss against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair and tug softly, fingertips softly rubbing into his scalp. He lets out a long, slow breath, his body fully relaxing against yours. 

“You’re far too good for me.” He mumbles.

“Don’t talk like that, Osamu.” you flick his ear softly.

He gasps loudly, “I never thought my dear beloved would resort to physical abuse! I take it back, you're terrible.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes, “Says the one who pinned me down and tickled me for five minutes until I nearly peed myself.”

Dazai starts laughing again, almost obnoxiously loud. In fact, you’re almost sure if anyone else heard him they would think he is obnoxious. But to you, his laughter, his smile, his jokes, and even his dramatics are worth the world. You’ll never understand why he chose you, why he handed you the precious key, but you’ll always be grateful that he did.

“Hey Osamu?”

To most, Osamu Dazai is an enigma. The man is notoriously hard to read, one can never know what he’s thinking.

“What is it darling?”

Even so, one look into his tired brown eyes and you know; you can hear his thoughts loud and clear.

“I love you.”

But you can’t deny, it feels indescribably wonderful when you get to hear him say it.

“I love you more.”

[namfinessed]

on repeat - m.yg.

genre: major angst, a bit of fluff at the end (timeloop! character death!) (7.2k)

summary: yoongi gets stuck in a vicious cycle where he can't seem to propose to you, nor save you from dying in his arms.

masterpost

he was going to propose to you.

that was the plan, the night was supposed to end with you in his arms, a dazzling smile on your face and his heart bursting at the seams with his love for you.

but yoongi is mute, rigid, a velvet box pressed against his thigh uncomfortably, a future with the ring inside it seemed impossible.

you sat, some distance away, a country away it seemed like to yoongi, you too were mute, and rigid but you were restless with anger that frankly, scared him.

the cab rumbled beneath his feet and his throat bobbed constantly, zayn malik’s ‘cruel’ buzzed over the air but it did nothing to ease the tension between you two.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if he could say anything.

he sees his hand which lay next to yours, he could reach out, touch it, apologize, pull you in, let you yell at him but instead, he retracts it into his lap and folds it in defeat.

your nails dig into the leather of the car seat, so intensely, so painfully, and your jaw stays tight.

“can we-“

“don’t.” your warning hits him in a wave, you never speak to him like that, and you never look at him as if you could walk away from everything you’ve built together but you do now, you do now and yoongi feels like he’s falling into an abyss of failure.

yoongi slumps into his seat, eyeing the seconds ticking by on his watch, anxiety building so largely in his chest that he has to sit up, to let it dissipate physically.

“this isn’t fair,” he utters finally and you scoff, chin trembling, “tough luck, yoongi.”

he shakes his head, “how are we going to sort this out if you’re being like this?”

“we? there’s no ‘we’ here, yoongi, you have to sort this out,” you spit it out, body lurching forward in defense and yoongi drowns once again, in shame, in guilt, in a vicious cocktail of emotions that only you make him feel.

“okay fine, how am i supposed to sort this out?” he turns to face you, just as the cab pulls to a stop at the curb, the tires screeching under him irritates yoongi, but he keeps looking at you.

and he notices something he didn’t before.

a single tear falls out of your eyes and travels down your jaw, so slowly that yoongi feels he could draw it as it moves.

you never cry, not at movies, not at songs, not at anniversaries, yoongi had hoped he would make you cry today but not this way; he was hoping to see you so overjoyed that tears leaked without your permission.

but not this, not this strange, broken, lost tear that gets quickly wiped away by you.

“figure it out.” you declare and step out of the car, slamming it shut in the process and yoongi falls back on his seat, stunned and mournful as the weeds of grief sow into his heart.

you never cry.

-

yoongi buttons his suit, a cold expression on his face as he follows you into the rousing club, the rousing club he owned, the rousing club where you performed as a singer, this was where you met, this was where your love grew, this was where yoongi knew would be perfect for proposing to you.

but as you stomped in your tallest heels in front of him, your dress flowing behind you in an ethereal way, yoongi felt like he’d gone back to the day when he saw your audition, you had looked out of this world, so out of his league, so painfully beautiful but his heart tugged him towards you, in a way that was out of his control.

and you had taken his heart in, caged it in your palms, and never set it free, yoongi had never wanted to be set free, but you were leaving the cage open now, and he didn’t know where to go.

he didn’t where he belonged, if it wasn’t next to you.

“sir, ma’m,” the bouncers greeted you two, you smiled so sweetly at them, asking them about their day and their meals, then as they all turned to him, your face went back to the grim, dangerous fury that yoongi could feel burning into him.

as yoongi made small talk, you disappeared into the club, into the crowd of people, and yoongi, once again, tracked you down and followed you.

today was a big day for his club, “midas and tunes”, it was the grand re-opening after a successful year, and some huge renovations, he had been running around for months like a madman to prepare for this night, both the proposal and the re-opening, and a lot of yoongi’s stress was supposed to alleviate at the end of today.

but watching you, two feet away, not being able to touch you, or talk to you, just spiked his anxiety to the highest it’s ever been.

yoongi pushes through the people, half-heartedly greeting everyone on his way to you and you don’t look back, you march over to the side of the stage and he rushes to catch your wrist.

and as subtly as you could, you ripped it from his grip, throwing him a glare and say, “i’m going up there in one minute, i don’t want to hear a word from you.”

he’s had enough.

he lets out a groan of frustration, he wasn’t a saint, he wasn’t made of endless patience and god, he was trying but you were just, “you’re being so fucking difficult right now.” and your anger flares in your eyes, yoongi feels stupid for saying anything at all, the box in his pocket shakes its head at him.

“not another word, min yoongi.” you warn with your finger pointed at him to further punctuate your point, “go, be a good host and don’t you dare come back home tonight.”

with that, you change your face from a glare to the dazzling smile that yoongi loves, you walk onto the stage and wave at the group of people shining in the crowd.

yoongi purses his lips and works his way through the club, greeting, smiling, and exchanging niceties even as his feet wobble and his heart feels dry.

he watches you from the corner of his eyes, you glow on stage, your smile is perfect, your eyes are perfect, you are perfect, and you make it look so easy, going up in front of a couple of hundred people and talking to them with a confidence that no one could wreck with.

you were always this enigmatic, and yoongi had always felt he was less than you.

but he would never do anything to stand in the way of you and your light, he would always take the shadows so you could shine, which is why it makes it that much more difficult for him to hold onto you right at this moment.

he watched, proud eyes, sinking heart as you sang, each word so raw and rich that yoongi tunes out everything else around him.

your eyes flutter to him, he thinks it’ll be a vicious glare again, a snarl, anything to indicate your anger, but instead, your eyes soften around their edges, you lend him a ghost of a smile, a delicate moment passes between you two and yoongi smiles back at you.

you two would be okay, of course, you would be and if you kept smiling this way, yoongi would be on one knee by the end of tonight, and it would end exactly how he had dreamt it to.

but just as a bigger smile starts to grace your face, a loud bang from the back of the club startles yoongi, several loud bangs and clangs fill the air, people start screaming around him, pushing him in every direction to find the source of the noise and yoongi’s eyes rush to find you.

he starts pushing too, the air around him grows sparse, and his body keeps pulling him into the crowd when he’s trying to push against it.

his body grows cold when he hears the bang of a gun, the clutter of a bullet, the falling of a table, and screams.

so.

many.

screams.

they echo and bounce off his ears, some creep into his soul and stop his steps in fear.

but he pushes through, hurriedly, more frantically, because for fucks’ sake, he can’t see you, he can’t see your pretty eyes, your flowing dress, your tall heels, he can’t see you anywhere around him.

then, he stops.

yoongi falls.

to his knees.

the pain of the ground hitting his bones, shoots through him but his heart aches much more, it squeezes and squeezes at the sight in front of him.

a single bullet in the middle of your forehead.

your body on the ground.

no breathing, no movement, no sound.

just a single tear dripping at the tip of your nose.

yoongi crawls forward, eyes wide, skin riddled with terror, fresh terror that grabbed him by his throat, he gathers your body into his lap and taps your cheeks, taps your arms, taps your eyes, holds his ear to your nose, he calls out to you, he says your name once, twice, a billion times.

and he cries.

he holds your head to his chest and he cries so loudly, he can hear himself over the chaos, the banging, the clutter, his cries resonate and punctuate the air.

yoongi fiddles for the box in his pockets and blindly throws it across the room, it had no place in his world from today.

he had no place in his world from today.

-

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi stirred, his entire body hurt, his head was pounding and he winced as he tried to open his heavy eyes but when he managed somehow to peel them open, he is greeted with the sight of a window.

a window in a cab.

he jolts awake, his body screams in protest as he whips his head around.

you.

you.

you.

you got shot, you bled out in his arms, yoongi cried to the heavens.

but you are here.

your dress is flowing around you.

yesterday’s dress.

there’s no blood on it, not even a wrinkle, it’s pristine, and it’s as ethereal as he remembers, yoongi’s eyes reach your face, you are looking at him tensely but today, you have a concerned frown along with your anger.

what was happening?

“you good?” you ask, tone reluctant and stiff and yoongi feels himself go pale, it feels strange to hear your voice after your blood washed him away, “what happened?” he gasps, so desperately, so lost, his hands curl on the leather as they try to reach you, but you only scoff at him.

“we just hit a speed bump, yoongi, don’t be such a drama queen.”

no.

he had every right to freak out.

he saw you die.

“ho-how are you?” he feels stupid as he asks, he feels even more stupid when you glance at him with an arched eyebrow, “i’m trying not to kill you, what about you?”

yoongi drops his head against his seat, you are speaking to him, you are here, you are alive and yoongi can now feel the same velvet box pressing against his thigh.

he had thrown it away; he had held your skin as it turned blue.

but the cab was the same as yesterday, same zayn song, same tinted windows, same driver, same everything.

even your anger was the same.

yoongi felt like he could explode.

maybe it was a bad dream, maybe yoongi had somehow conjured the worst of worst-case scenarios in the tense moments that followed up to this day.

and he sighs in relief, you’re alive, you’re all right, it was a bad dream and he still could fix things.

but he still felt uneasy, something in the pit of his stomach kept curling and unfurling, a forewarning or a simple case of nerves on a huge day, yoongi wasn’t sure, he didn’t feel brave enough to question it for too long.

he wordlessly followed you into the club and watched you take your place on the stage, he watched your flowing dress and long heels and laughed to himself about how differently things went in his dream.

you would probably kill him before you ever died.

“i’d like to welcome you all, with a full heart, for our grand re-opening,” you spoke so smoothly, your words echoing off yoongi’s dreams and he tried to shrug off the way his stomach kept churning.

just nerves.

he told himself again and again, he was going to propose for fucks’ sake, of course, he was going to feel a bit queasy.

but failing to ignore the spikes growing on his spine, he turned around to survey the crowd, to convince himself that this was all completely normal, and when he saw smiling faces, glasses of alcohol, and glittering lights, he turned back to you, shaking his head at himself.

he was overthinking it all, he just had to make things right by you and then get down on one knee, and sleep it off.

the lights descend on you and a tune fills the air.

you started singing, his senses get consumed by you in the same second your voice travels to him.

yoongi feels himself relax.

his shoulders fall away from his ears, his chest expands to take in more air and he straightens his posture, he sips his drink and pours all his attention to the light that makes you glow.

your eyes meet his.

his shoulders pick back up.

he knows this scene.

yoongi’s heart thundered in his chest.

wasn’t this how you looked at him before you died in his arms?

he rushes forward, mumbling apologies to the people he pushes as unease crawls through his every sense. yoongi’s hands thrust in front of him, an urgent fever almost turns him blind.

if something happens, he will never forgive himself.

he reaches where you stand, hands and palms towards you, heart beating in his ears and your eyes light up at his stance, your anger melts at his open arms and as you sing, your hand reaches out for his, and yoongi feels his heart slip at the adoration that coated your glistening eyes.

oh.

you have mistaken his intentions but yoongi will take just about anything from you right now.

he places his hands in yours, “i’ve got you,” he whispers to you, he doesn’t know why, and your eyes round in surprise, then soften again, and you mouth back, “i’ve got you too.”

if you think his behavior is strange, especially because yoongi is never affectionate publicly, you don’t say anything and yoongi feels all the more grateful for it.

after sticking around until the song almost finished, yoongi meekly finds his way back into the crowd, but his brow glistened with sweat and his hands felt clammy.

but the worst was over, you finished your song and you were still alive, nothing bad had happened.

he needed help.

“hey, you” your voice breaks him out of his head, he looks up to see your eyes filled with subdued anger, “wanna dance to this, big boy?”

zayn’s ‘cruel’ fills his ears once again, he used to love the song but now, it fills him with vicious deja-vu, nevertheless, yoongi lets you whisk him away and he tries to move with you, tries to match your steps, tries to match your smile but the song seems to mock him.

‘who do you love, who do you love?’

“i know i was being really mean to you,” you speak under the neon lights, he sees your lips move, and he feels the weight of your words but yoongi doesn’t listen, “we’ll sort this out, okay? we’ve been through worse, you just have to promise me that you will never invite them again.”

right.

the actual reason you were fighting.

yoongi feels his fear melt, and he lets it melt completely, “i know we will, besides, i have so much planned for us, you can’t leave me hanging in all that.” he rests his forehead on you as you let out a giggle and curl into him.

“what does that mean?”

the box in his trousers begged to be let out, yoongi smiled, he had nothing to be worried about, “it means that i have a question to ask you-“

bang!

he feels his world spin on his feet when the crash comes, the same crash from his dreams, the same crash that killed you, yoongi’s arms fall from you and his breath comes short, he turns to the source of the noise, eyes darting wildly in the air.

“yoongi!” your screams come from beside him, your hands grip his arms, and he winces as your nails dig into his shirt, but he’s panicked, he’s scared, and he needs to take down the people doing it.

he can’t let them get to you.

“yo-“

a ringing noise travels in his ear, he swears he heard a bullet before it, and as his eyes drag over to you, achingly, as slowly as he can because he fears he knows what he will see.

and yoongi falls to his knees again.

he wipes the single tear off your face before crumbling next to you.

-

yoongi could still feel the warmth of your blood seeping through his fingers, as he stirred from slumber, he felt his clothes stretch against leather and his eyes shot open.

the cab window stared back at him.

the neon lights of the city mocked him.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

the song pressed itself into his brain.

“no, no, no,” he gripped his hair in his hands as he leaned forward, this couldn’t be happening, not again.

“seriously, yoongi? i’m the one who is hurt and you want to act like the baby?” your razor-sharp eyes ground him, and he lurches forward to grab your hand.

you were real.

you were here.

but this time, yoongi knew it couldn’t have been a dream. it had felt too real, his pain had been too real and coincidence didn’t seem like a strong enough explanation.

“what are you doing, yoongi?” you hiss and bat his hand away, looking out the window with a stone-cold expression.

but yoongi had his own problems.

he had to ignore the sting in his heart to figure out what the fuck was happening with his life.

why was it this cab?

why was it this song?

and why did you always die at the end?

yoongi could only think of one explanation, a burglary gone wrong, because everyone else was a respected guest, thoroughly vetted and yoongi knew all of them personally, none of them would want to hurt you.

but yoongi thinks back to how acutely he felt the box in his pocket, how it pressed into him more whenever you…well, whenever you died.

“i have to do this here,” he whispers to himself, hands already reaching out to rip the box out of his pocket, he faces you and yoongi tries not to feel hurt over the anger still flashing in your eyes.

“i know this isn’t a good time, but i need to do this, please look at me,” yoongi begs you, and he never begged anyone for anything, which is what makes you turn to look at him.

a gasp leaves your lips the second you notice the box in his palm, “yoongi, oh my god,” you say, breathlessly, in adoration and fear, and yoongi wishes he could’ve done this differently, “i know we’re fighting and i know you’re upset with me but even if you are, even if we aren’t always good, i want to be with you and no one else, for the rest of my life.”

yoongi’s throat feels dry, his heart doesn’t sing even if he means his words, he desperately wishes he was doing this differently but he knows no way out, he didn’t want to wake up to your angry face, he didn’t want to see you die anymore, he didn’t want to be in this cab anymore.

“aw, yoongi,” at least, it seems that you find it sentimental, your eyes glisten with unshed tears, any anger is dissipated from your face, and yoongi’s heart cheers.

he did it.

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you too,” you hum happily, a single tear escapes your eyes as you watch him and his fingers reach out for your hand, he is finally feeling the buzz and excitement that comes with proposing.

yoongi was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

bang!

yoongi’s heart sinks, the ring dangles and falls off from his grip, and the cab swerves unnaturally to the divider in the road.

it was the tire, yoongi knew it was from the way the cab lost control.

“yoongi!” your scream reaches him and yoongi only watches as blinding lights fall from behind you and he can only watch as they crash into your side of the cab, throwing the vehicle into the middle of the street.

and he closes his eyes, he doesn’t turn your way, he refuses to look at your hand that falls on his lap, he ignores the blood dripping on his trousers.

he lets the ring fall onto the floor of the cab.

-

leather.

box.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

that damn song.

this time, yoongi didn’t bother being surprised or confused, he opened his eyes, and the window came into his view, he sighed, he looked to his side, he saw your simmering eyes settled in a scowl, he sighed, he felt the box in his pocket, he sighed.

if he was going to do this a million times, he figured that he might as well get somewhere with you.

“i’m sorry for inviting your family,” he starts and you scoff at him, but he continues, he was going to live this day again and again until the universe was done playing with him apparently, yoongi had nothing to lose. “i shouldn’t have tried to act like some hero, reuniting you guys, i should’ve understood why you hated them so much and stayed out of your way.”

your posture visibly relaxes, your shoulders drop, your scowl melts by a little, and you turn to him with tears in your eyes, “i just don’t understand why you thought it was a good idea, they are people who have betrayed me so many times yoongi, i didn’t want to see their faces ever.”

yoongi had thought that, as much as you fought with your family, you would still want them around for his proposal, he had spent weeks meticulously planning things with them, but he should’ve known you better, he should’ve tried to understand that he couldn’t do things just because he thought it would turn out well for you.

and yoongi feels terrible, “let’s just say, i had something big planned for today.” his palms fold on his lap and his head drops to the seat, he feels exhausted, he feels so far and close to how he wanted tonight to end.

he doesn’t answer you when you ask him what it was, he doesn’t say anything at all even when his club comes into view, he walks straight into it and grabs a glass of whiskey for himself.

god knows that he’s earned it.

“yoongi, i’m up in two minutes,” you approach him at the bar, eyes wide with concern, “good luck, you’re going to kill it.” he taps your shoulder, then winces at his choice of words and your eyebrows twist in confusion.

“are you still angry?” yoongi turns away at your question, he was acting like an asshole but if you were going to die again, yoongi didn’t want to see another second of it, he couldn’t see another second of it without going completely insane, “i’m not, just nerves, don’t worry about it.” he knows you can sense how half-hearted his tone is but you only eye him warily once before leaving his side.

yoongi lets his head fall onto the cool glass of the bar countertop, he hears your delicate voice swimming in the air and he buries himself further into the glass.

“oh, hyung!” yoongi frowns, no one calls him that.

he slowly looks up to see your brother, steve, the one he invited, the one you hated, “oh hey man, how’s it going?” yoongi gives him a one-arm hug and proceeds to nurse his drink again.

“all good, the club’s beautiful, no wonder you picked this for the proposal,” steve looks fine, yoongi wonders why you hate him, “well, don’t get too excited about the proposal.”

“if your sister stops dying for two minutes, i would have a chance at that,” his tone is bitter but yoongi’s chest aches, is this how it’s going to be? is he going to watch you die a million more times before he ever gets to call you, his wife?

“huh?”

“don’t worry about it, rough day.” he waves your brother off, hoping that he will leave yoongi alone but steve lingers, “so hyung,” yoongi didn’t have the energy to correct him that he in fact, wasn’t his hyung.

“i’m between jobs right now, the club looks terrific, you think you can hook me with something?” steve says so casually, that yoongi has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his soon-to-be brother-in-law.

his brother-in-law had no skills in subtlety and suddenly, yoongi started seeing why you might hate your family.

yoongi’s met this guy for two minutes and he’s already asking for a job, and he’s heard you complain about how your family keeps asking you for everything, he feels even more terrible for inviting them.

“i’ll look into it.” his words hold no promise but your brother brightens up immediately, taking a seat next to yoongi and beaming at him, yoongi politely smiles and focuses on his drink.

“but seriously hyung, why her?”

“i’m sorry?”

“oh come on hyung, you know as much as i do, that you can do way better than my sister,” yoongi looks at steve in disbelief, why was your brother talking shit about his own sister, especially on the night of her proposal?

“she’s heartless hyung, she will chew you up and leave you with nothing, trust me our entire family has experienced it.” yoongi’s grip around his glass tightens, and he hears the cracks that threaten to break it, he wished it was steve’s neck instead.

“get out.”

“what?”

“i said, get the fuck out of my club before i get you kicked out.”

“hyung, i’m only trying to protect you from her, she’s insane,” and yoongi loses it completely, “why are you still standing and speaking to me? i told you to get out.”

“what’s going on?” you step into the bar with your arms across your chest, you already look tired, “your brother was just leaving, the exit’s that way.” yoongi pointed out for steve and sat back down.

steve goes red in the face, his breaths leave him rushed and he is visibly angry.

yoongi wished he gave a singular fuck about him.

“you’re going to let this man be your husband, after how he talked to your brother?” steve turns to you and you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what husband are you talking about, steve?”

wow.

there went yoongi’s plan of a surprise proposal.

“ask him,” steve was doing this intentionally, yoongi knew the second he saw the glint pass his eyes, he was enjoying ruining your proposal, “he’s speaking bullshit, which is why i asked him to leave, and he still hasn’t left for some reason.” yoongi shrugs, trying to play it cool, trying to act as if a box wasn’t pressing into his thighs.

“no, ask him what it is in his pocket. ask him!” steve points wildly at yoongi, his anger flaring even more and yoongi’s eyebrows line with sweat, you look at him in confusion, he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“stop it right now, steve.” yoongi tries to maintain his cool.

“just because i asked you for a job, doesn’t already make you the boss of me, i hope you and her rot together,” he hisses out at yoongi.

“you asked yoongi for a job?”

shit.

yoongi tenses up once again, because you sound scalded, he turns immediately, abandoning his drink and peace.

you are holding back tears as you stare pointedly at your brother.

steve goes red again, “well, my useless sister wasn’t doing anything for me, so i thought i’d at least try with her husband.” he scoffs and yoongi’s never wanted to punch someone so badly.

your face flashes with hurt and your lips turn down, you turn to stare at yoongi with venom dripping from your eyes, as if to tell him, ‘see, this is why i hate them.’

you didn’t have to signal that twice, yoongi’s understood how terrible your family is, based on the very short interaction with your brother.

“okay, play time’s over, follow me quietly or my bouncers will carry you out,” yoongi sinks from his seat and glares at steve until his shoulders fall and his feet line up with yoongi’s.

“you’re the most selfish person i know, you don’t deserve any of this,” steve growls at you, and yoongi grabs the jacket of his suit, pulling him away from you, “shut up, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t speak another word.”

“i’m selfish? after everything i’ve done for you, i’m the selfish one?” you half-scream at steve, with trembling hands and a single tear falling out of your eyes.

yoongi’s seen this scene before, a hurtle of recognition tumbles over him as he finally notices what exactly happens whenever a tear falls from your eyes.

you die and he fails to save you, every single time that a tear touches your chin.

“without your husband, you would be nothing,” steve points his finger at you, and your face twists in annoyance, “why does he keep saying husband?”

“yeah hyung, why do i keep saying husband?” steve turns to yoongi with his arms crossed, a smug smile dancing on his lips and yoongi’s mind goes blank.

he doesn’t say a word.

he doesn’t look up to see you.

he just wanted to do this one night right, and it was all falling on him again.

“yoongi?” you look at him expectantly, he looks away, he swallows the lump in his throat and he wants to run away.

“let me help you, hyung,” steve steps forward and yoongi doesn’t know why he’s saying that, he doesn’t process a word until steve shoves his hand into yoongi’s pocket and pulls out the velvet box that hasn’t left him alone.

your mouth falls open as the action catches the attention of everyone in the room, collective gasps, squeals, and whispers cloud yoongi’s mind as he tries to look for your reaction in all this.

there’s no joy on your face, no excitement, just a wide eye and dropped jaw staring back at him.

he feels several knives twist themselves into his chest and it takes everything in him to not fall on the floor and curl himself up.

he never wanted this, he never wanted to live through a night where you would reject him.

as people started crowding, yoongi’s throat tightened, his entire heart was dangling from steve’s fingers and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

but he looked at you, with some faded hope that you would wake yourself up and give him your heart too.

“come here,” your whisper barely registers to him, your touch barely dawns on him as you drag him away from the crowd.

it’s only when a gust of cold wind breaks on his face that he looks up to see that you have dragged him to the patio.

“yoongi, please look at me.”

he swallows another sob down his throat.

“it’s okay, i understand why you would say no, i fucked the whole thing up,” he runs a hand through his hair, his head refused to pick itself up, and your whispers of ‘no, no, no’ reach him slowly.

“it’s not like that,” your hands come into his view before they cup his jaw and force him to look at you, yoongi barely holds himself together as your fingers run circles on his cheeks, “i just wish,” you sigh, hands coming around his neck and resting your forehead on his chest.

yoongi’s hands twitch beside his body, “what do you wish for?” and he almost doesn’t recognize his voice, he sounds so weak, so desperate, but yoongi couldn’t hide it, it was exactly how he felt.

“i just wish it was us,” you start, yoongi holds his breath, “and no one else.”

“that’s all?”

“that’s all, yoongi” you let out a small laugh into his chest before picking yourself up and staring at him with all the love in the world.

he feels his worries run away like steam from a hot plate of food.

bang!

yoongi’s arms lurch out to you, pulling you to him as his breath quickens.

that fucking noise.

you both watched with wide eyes as people tumbled out of the club, screaming, falling, running, and looking back in fear. yoongi grabs your hand and runs, he runs with heavy steps and pulls you with him, he desperately looks back every two seconds as more and more people file out.

“yoongi!” your nails barely hold onto his jacket and he feels your grip loosen.

then, he doesn’t feel it at all.

yoongi stops running, he rushes back as people push him out of the way, as people shove his shoulder, step on his feet, and elbow him in the stomach, he winces and groans but he doesn’t stop looking for you in the crowd.

he screams your name, searches for your dress, searches for your heels, searches for your nails but nothing comes into view.

yoongi feels the acid rush into his mouth, he feels the choking that suffocates his chest and throat, and he feels his knees weaken at the thought of his nightmare repeating again.

and he realizes he can’t do anything at all to stop it.

the night ends when the crowd ends, when the police cars show up, when they find your body on the floor and put it into a body bag, and when they explain to yoongi that it was because of a stampede and it couldn’t have been in his control.

yoongi laughs at them.

nothing had ever been in his control.

-

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi didn’t open his eyes.

he knew what came next.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

his eyes scrunch in pain as your voice floats in his head, he remembers the promise in your eyes, the tremble of your fingers as they snaked around his neck and he was so close this time, so fucking close but he was here again, and you were here too.

again.

the tires under the car screech and pull over.

“yoongi, we need to go.” your stern voice pulls him back in, and he opens his eyes, dazed, he stares at the cab window with the weight of a thousand boulders on his shoulders.

he doesn’t know how to fix this; he doesn’t know how to save you and yoongi is so close to just letting the nights blend into each other until he dies with you.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

but you.

you deserved more than a resigned fate, you deserved more than a man who didn’t know how to save you, hell you deserved a man who knew what you wanted.

“yoongi, are you listening to me? we’re here,” you say once again and yoongi stares at his club, which shines so brightly in the night and he doesn’t make a single move to get out, even as you huff in annoyance.

here.

here lay so many nights.

here lay so many of your bodies.

then yoongi straightens up.

here.

here lay so many of your bodies.

here was the problem.

“we need to go back,” he whispers to no one, his nerves catch fire as the craziest or maybe not-crazy-at-all plan he’s ever come up with starts burning in his mind, he looks at you, your angry eyes, and scrunched-up fists, and reaches out for them.

“do you trust me?” he asks hastily, fingers gripping your fists and you frown at him, “what are you going on about?”

“do you trust me? please tell me,” maybe it was the tears gathering in his eyes, or his hands that begged you to understand but you eventually gave him a hesitant nod.

with your confirmation, yoongi leans over his seat and speaks quickly “driver, please take us back to our place, we will pay you extra,” and your frown grows deeper as the cab hits a u-turn.

“yoongi, our guests will be arriving, what the fuck are you doing?”

“please, just trust me.”

and again, his voice shakes your anger, your stance, you sink back into the seat without a word.

yoongi feels his heart race as your home comes into view, his fingers instinctively reach out for the box in his pocket, but it doesn’t terrify him anymore, he feels the texture of it, he imagines the future in it and he hopes to all the powers in the world that this works out.

he pays the driver, waits for you to step out, and gently tugs you along with him to your home, your safe place, a space that was always for you two.

and yoongi’s lips twitch, they threaten to break out a large smile, one that would give him away, one that would ruin his plans but they’ve been ruined so many times already, what’s one more time?

he removes his hand from yours as you reach your living room and paces forward, bringing out a candle, shutting down some lights and you watch with your arms crossed, your lower lip caught between your teeth in an anxious action and you grow more confused by the minute.

he switches the last remaining light off and you see nothing.

“yoongi, what is going on?” you whine into the darkness, trying to place his figure with his footsteps, your foot taps repeatedly as you zero into the sounds around you.

then, light falls through, a soft, warm light from the candle you bought for yoongi.

and yoongi comes into the light, just as soft, just as warm, on one knee, a nervous twitch in his eyebrows as his hands shake in front of him.

there’s a ring in his hands, a shine that dims all the other light in the room except yoongi who remains the most radiant.

your jaw starts to tremble as you slowly take in yoongi’s smile, which is nervous but so present.

“love, i should’ve known you,” he starts, and you’re stepping forward, “i should’ve known that you wouldn’t want anyone else to see this, to witness us at this moment,” his voice scratches with emotion and you’re stepping forward again, “but now i do, and i only have one thing to say,” he takes in a shaky breath and the toe of your heels grazes his leather shoes, “i love you, and there’s not a person, not a disaster, not enough warnings, nothing can ever stop me from trying to get to you.”

you frown a bit; you assume he means everything you’ve been through together in your relationship and your heart drowns in itself.

“i love you and i’ll never stop loving you, i promise to spend the rest of my life being yours,” your chin shakes furiously as you try to hold your tears back, “as long as you are mine.”

“what do you say, do you want to make me the happiest man alive?” yoongi’s eyes glisten, and his mind flashes with images of your body laying still through the many nights he tried to save you but he pushes them away, you’re here right now, you’re here and he has one more chance to keep you safe.

“oh, yoongi,” you sigh and fall into his arms, onto the ground, and grip his body so tightly, that fresh tears gather in his eyes, you’re here, and yoongi’s here, and somehow, the night has taken a better turn than he ever expected.

as he looks around the house you’ve built together, your candle burning away and leaving the sweetest scent in the air, and there are no neon lights, there are no shitty family members, there is no one and nothing at all, it’s just you and him and yoongi hopes that he will never have to go back to those nights again.

“i’ll always be yours,” you sniff and rub your nose into his cheek, “darling i love you too but let me get this ring on you,” you laugh and nod, pushing away to let him slip the delicate, shiny band onto your finger.

“there you go,” he holds onto your finger and pulls you back into his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck and you hum in pure happiness.

and both of you melt onto the floor, the warm light falls on you and yoongi’s heartbeat is in your ears when he asks, “do you like it?”

“i love it.” a single tear slips from your eyes.

yoongi’s smile falls.

-

a hand on his chest stirs him awake, yoongi’s eyes shoot open, his head twisting from side to side to see his surroundings.

his hands touch and feel the soft sheets covering his body and he looks to his right, it covers your body too and yoongi shakes his head at himself, a low laugh escaping him.

he stands up, groaning as he stretches his body and looks at your peaceful face.

yoongi lets his smile grow exponentially, walking over to push the curtains away and open into his balcony. he takes a deep breath as he leans over the railing and the scent of everything hits him, dulling his senses into a mild buzz.

“hey, handsome” hands sneak up on his torso and a shimmer blinks back from your fingers as they wrap around him, “good morning, my wife,” yoongi reaches for your hands and gives each of your fingers a kiss, making you giggle and push your head into his back.

“technically, it’s fiancé.”

“i think i prefer wife already.” and you hum contently, “me too.”

it was a new day.

his endless nights had finally come to an end and he never felt more grateful, he doesn’t think he will ever be able to explain how it happened, he doesn’t think anyone will understand the turmoil and anguish he felt in the past few hours, he doesn’t even think there’s an explanation but yoongi likes to brush it away, he has you and he doesn’t need an explanation, he just wants to keep you safe forever.

but he still had one problem.

“darling, don’t take this the wrong way, but can i block steve?”

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: The situation with the demogorgons gets increasingly more dire, leading you to the Byers’ house to wrangle four kids that can’t listen to save their lives (literally) while everyone tries desperately to save Will and the world.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down scary shit, billy being an actual complete asshole, physical violence

Word Count: 8.9k

Author’s Note: This chapter was pretty fun to write! Things get pretty intense in this part, so heed the content warning. I hope you all enjoy :)

Series Masterlist | Part 4 | Next Part

***

There wasn’t a clear path through to Hawkins Lab, making it pretty damn difficult to traverse through the woods, especially in the dark. Regardless of this fact, you were hauling ass, desperate to make it to the lab so you could take these demogorgons out, and maybe, just maybe, put all of this bullshit behind you. Steve was right on your tail, a little overwhelmed between making sure the kids were keeping up and that you weren’t getting too far ahead.

You tripped on a tree root, and you would have face planted if it weren’t for Steve quickly grabbing you by the elbow, aggressively pulling you backwards to counteract your forward momentum.

“Y/n, you need to slow down,” Steve said, his voice serious. His face was twisted in annoyance, which irritated you as you scoffed and shook out of his grip.

“This is time sensitive. We’re not here to take a nice stroll through the hiking trails. We’ve got shit to do,” you grumbled as you went to turn around, but Steve grabbed your arm again, pulling you closer. The kids were still lagging behind, but he kept his voice low to make sure they didn’t hear.

“Listen to me. We’ve got three kids mixed up in all this shit with us. I get that it might be time sensitive, but if you break an ankle, then we’re stuck out here defenseless, moving three times slower. You need to be a little bit fucking cautious. I can’t do this by myself.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying to push the anger aside as you nodded. You hated to admit it, but Steve was right. You were being impulsive and it was putting everyone’s life in jeopardy. Steve could tell you were still anxious to get there, the anticipation being all too overwhelming. His hand fell from your arm as he grabbed your trembling hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“I’ve got you, alright? So let’s do this together like we promised, yeah?”

“Okay,” you agreed quietly. He dropped your hand as the kids caught up. He cleared his throat as the air became slightly awkward between you.

After about fifteen more minutes of hiking, the trees started to become less and less dense, until you were almost out of the tree line. Suddenly you heard a voice shout out, which made you jump as your heart stopped in your chest.

“Hello? Who’s there?!”

You all finally made it out of the thicket, finally realizing who had called out.

“Steve?!” Jonathan and Nancy asked in unison.

“Nancy?” Steve stepped forwards just as confused as they were.

“Jonathan!” Dustin chimed in with a smile on his face, relieved to see someone else that could help them.

“Y/n, Dustin, Lucas, Max,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pointed to the rest of you, “now that we’re done with introductions, what the hell is going on?”

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked, frustration leaking into her tone.

“What are you doing here?” Steve shot back, still not happy with Nancy’s recent actions. In his mind, he didn’t owe her an explanation.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” Nancy answered, cutting to the chase.

“They’re not in there, are they?” You asked hesitantly.

“We’re not sure,” Nancy replied, concern flashing across her face as she picked up the seriousness in your tone.

“Why?” Jonathan asked cautiously, but before you could answer, you all heard screeching coming from the lab, finally noticing that the lights were flashing outside in an orderly fashion, indicating that some alarm system was likely enabled.

You all began arguing, attempting to figure out when the last time anyone had seen Will and Mike, when suddenly each floor of Hawkins Lab began lighting up again, one by one.

“The power’s back,” you breathed out, unsure if it was a good or a bad sign. Jonathan sprinted back to the operator’s booth, rapidly pushing the button to open the gate with no such luck.

“Let me try,” Dustin tried to push past Jonathan, but he didn’t budge, “let me try, Jonathan!”

You rolled your eyes as Dustin whined, his pushing of the button making no difference than when Jonathan had been pressing it before. “Shocker, it’s not working,” you called out, sarcasm lacing your voice.

“Son of a bitch!” The boy exclaimed as he continued to shove at the button repeatedly. After a few minutes of button pushing, the gate finally began to roll open, Dustin celebrating the fact that he had saved the day. This kid’s a fucking idiot, you thought, rolling your eyes, confident that the gate opening was the doing of someone inside the building.

Jonathan and Nancy piled into his car as they drove off towards the facility, leaving the five of you behind.

“Should we try to follow them?” Dustin suggested. You glanced back over at the lab, lights still flashing and alarm still sounding. Though you desperately wanted to help in any way you could, you weren’t going to risk the safety of the kids, knowing that if you went, they’d be close behind regardless of whether or not you told them to stay put.

“No. We’ll let them handle this part. If they don’t come back soon, we’ll follow, but until then we’re all staying right here. Understood?” You asked, swinging your flashlight to point it at each of the kids while you waited for their response. They all nodded in agreement; they knew better than to mess with you.

And so you waited, you picking at your fingernails, Steve tossing his flashlight up and down, and the kids pacing and kicking the ground.

“Guys?” Max spoke up as she paused in the middle of the road, noticing two cars quickly approaching. You recognized the first one as Jonathan’s and he laid on the horn, clearly not slowing down.

“Get out of the way!” Steve shouted, grabbing Max by the arm and pulling her to the side. You swiftly followed suit, grabbing the two boys by their collars and yanking them to safety just in time for Jonathan to fly past you. Something was clearly imminent and you didn’t want to be there when it arrived.

The second car screeched to a halt, and you were met with the face of Jim Hopper as he shouted out the window, “let’s go!”

Steve threw the door open, hurrying the kids along to get in the back of the police vehicle, placing a hand on your back to guide you into the back of the van before jumping in the passenger seat and slamming the door. “Okay! Let’s go!” He gave Hopper the all clear, patting the side of the police vehicle to signal that everyone was safely boarded in the car.

“What the fuck is going on?” You asked from the backseat, leaning forward between Steve and Hopper.

Hopper looked at you a bit annoyed, but he knew enough about you to know that you were a good kid, so he tried to stay calm. “I’m assuming you know about the demogorgons given the fact you’ve got a golf club and a baseball bat. What else do you know?”

“Other than that shit is clearly bad again, not much,” you breathed out. What more was there to know? Hopper’s words scared you, and Steve was quick to put a gentle hand on your shoulder to help you settle down.

“There are these tunnels. Under Hawkins. The demogorgons have been using them to travel around town and all this shit from the Upside Down is leaking in. All the ash and shit from last year is there and there’s rot all across town,” he started. You looked wide eyed at Steve, both of you remembering the gaping hole in Dustin’s cellar.

“I noticed a tree in the woods earlier, its trunk was rotting from the inside out. It was marked…with-with a yellow flag. That was you?” You asked to clarify.

“Yes, but that’s probably the least of our concerns. The gate is still open, and those assholes at Hawkins Lab thought it was contained but it’s clearly not. They’ve been doing controlled burns, trying to tame it back, but it’s not working,” Hopper gripped the steering wheel tighter, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him.

“What are we gonna do?” Dustin spoke up from the backseat, attempting to push around you to be a part of the conversation in the front. You shoved him back and rolled your eyes, giving him a look that told him to watch himself.

“Right now we’re going back to Joyce’s house where it’s safe. And you’re not going to do anything. We’re going to go home and wait for backup,” Hopper glanced back at the boy. You were about the protest, when Steve elbowed you and shook his head. Now was not the time. Besides, Steve wasn’t too upset about the idea. He wanted to be far away from the danger. He wanted you to be far away from the danger.

You sighed and flopped back. Shit was about to hit the fan, and you weren’t sure how prepared you were to deal with it.

***

The Byers’ house was equally as disheveled as it was the year before, but this time, instead of lights, there were crayon drawings scattered and taped all over the house. Steve watched as Nancy comforted Jonathan while Hopper yelled on the phone, his call for backup clearly not going the way he had hoped it would. Steve entered the kitchen, going to lean up against the counter with you. You could see the hurt on his face, and you gently nudged him in the side to get his attention.

“Hey, chin up,” you reminded him softly. You knew Nancy had hurt him and even though you wanted to be mad at her, you couldn’t. She was hurting too, still grappling with all this shit that life kept throwing in your direction. You couldn’t blame her for wanting different things; for realizing she needed to make changes to be happier. You still couldn’t understand how she wasn’t happy with Steve, though. He’d been your saving grace through all of this and you were envious of the ways that he had been able to be there for her that he couldn’t be for you. You pushed the thought aside and tried to take your own advice, straightening up in the face of it all.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin asked as Hopper aggressively hung up the phone.

“We’ll see,” he shot back, not happy with the incessant questioning from these damn kids.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike yelled, frustrated with the lack of action that Hopper was suggesting.

“We stay here, and we wait for help,” Hopper slowly articulated, his tone making it clear that it wasn’t up for discussion. He exited the kitchen before anyone else could chime in. You rolled your eyes.

Mike began talking about Bob Newby, and your heart sank in your chest as you tried not to let your eyes well up with tears. All day, you’d been trying to prevent anymore deaths; to keep everyone safe. You had failed, but you were starting to find the grace to understand that this wasn’t on you. Despite that, it still hurt.

“We can’t let him die in vain,” Mike begged. You couldn’t agree more, but in more ways than one, your hands were tied.

“Well, what do you want to do, Mike? The chief’s right about this. I mean, we can’t stop those demo-dogs on our own” Dustin spat, clearly feeling just as frustrated as you had felt.

“Demo-dogs?” You asked incredulously. That might be some of the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard.

“Demogorgons. Dogs…Demo-dogs,” Dustin reiterated, and you scoffed.

“When it was just Dart, maybe, but now there’s a fucking army and we don’t have the manpower or resources to take that many fucking monsters out,” Steve spoke up. He still was partial to staying back, letting the grown ups figure this shit out.

“His army,” Mike spoke up and you could see the glint of realization in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“His army!” Mike repeated. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too!” He quickly stood up from his chair moving to pick up one of Will’s drawings. You gently grabbed it and your heart ached knowing that Will had been seeing this thing in his nightmares. By the looks of it, it was huge, its crooked arms reaching out and infecting every inch of town. You shuddered.

“The shadow monster,” Dustin clarified for those of you that weren’t privy, still not quite sure what Mike was going on about.

“It got Will that day in the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”

“And so this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max chimed in.

“To the tunnels, to the monsters, to the Upside Down. Everything,” Mike emphasized.

“Woah, slow down, slow down,” Steve spoke up, clearly not following the boy’s line of reasoning.

“The shadow monster’s inside everything. And if the vines feel something, like pain, then so does Will,” Mike explained.

“And so does Dart,” you added, following.

“Yeah, it’s like what Mr. Clarke taught us about the hive mind,” Mike confirmed as he looked at Lucas and Dustin.

“Hive mind?” Steve asked. Goodness gracious this boy was stupid, you thought, taking a deep breath to avoid snapping at him.

“A collective consciousness. It’s a super-organism,” you explained. The boys looked at you in awe, impressed that you also knew about this shit. Maybe you were more of a nerd than you thought.

“And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain,” Mike pointed at the picture in your hands.

“Like the mind flayer!” Dustin exclaimed. The three boys shared a knowing look, leaving you, Steve, and Max in the dark. Dustin scoured the house, locating a book and slamming it down on the table. Hopper and Nancy had joined the kitchen after all the commotion, interested in knowing what had the kids so worked up.

“The mind flayer,” Dustin repeated.

Hopper looked at him exasperated. He didn’t have time for these kids pulling some imaginary bullshit. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know it’s true home. It enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers,” Dustin explained.

“None of this is real,” Hopper groaned.

“Yeah, Dustin, this is a kids’ game,” you added incredulously.

“No, it’s a manual…and it’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor for understanding whatever the hell this is,” Dustin defended himself.

“Okay, so this mind flamer thing—“ Nancy started, trying to understand.

“Flayer,” Dustin corrected.

“—flayer—what does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Oh, uh, like the Germans,” Steve stammered, trying to understand via his own metaphor. You all looked at him in disbelief.

“Uh, the nazis?” Dustin corrected and Steve nodded in agreement, “if the nazis were from a different dimension, then totally. It views other races like us as inferior.”

“Yeah, and it wants to spread to other dimensions,” Mike added.

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas emphasized.

You felt the anxiety creep back up, and all of this was way too overwhelming. How the hell were you supposed to fight something that had control over an expansive and complex army?

“This is just great, this is fantastic!” Steve groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped away. You made your way out of the kitchen, connecting the dots well enough to not need any further explanation. Steve followed you, wanting to make sure you were okay.

“This is insane, Steve,” you breathed out. “We’re not talking about just one demogorgon anymore. Not even a couple. This is a whole fucking army. Imagine the carnage! We can’t fucking do this! I can’t fucking do this!” You began rambling as you quickly began to spiral. The fate of the world was in your hands and you couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Hey, hey, hey, chill out,” Steve sounded exasperated. He was just as tense and overwhelmed about the situation as you were, but ruminating over it didn’t help anything. “When you freak out about it, it just makes everything ten times harder, so just take a deep breath, think about something else, and chill the fuck out,” Steve reiterated. It was tough love, but it helped. He was right; stressing about it wasn’t going to change anything.

The conversation from the kitchen moved into the family room with you as Mike followed Hopper into the hall, “how are they supposed to stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike exclaimed, talking about Hopper’s military backup.

“We don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper argued.

“We know it’s already killed everyone in that lab,” Mike shot back.

“And we know the monsters are going to molt again,” Dustin added.

“And it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town,” you finally spoke up, your voice even. You were more confident now after Steve’s words. You might not be able to save the world, but you could damn sure try.

“They’re right,” Joyce joined you all, making her way down the hallway. She looked distraught, and your heart broke for her. “We have to kill this thing…I want to kill this thing.”

“Me too, me too, Joyce, but how do we do it? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here,” Hopper reminded her.

“No, but he does. If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it; he’ll know its weakness,” Mike spoke up.

“I thought he was a spy for the mind flayer now?” Max asked.

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

Everyone quickly got to work attempting to disguise the Byers’ shed so that it was unrecognizable to Will. You were outside, breaking down pieces of cardboard with Jonathan, while Nancy helped Steve hang tarps to cover the walls inside.

“So, you and Nancy?” You asked, getting deja vu to when you had asked Steve a very similar question during your car ride together that fateful day last November.

“What do you mean?” Jonathan was immediately defensive. You cocked your head to the side, shooting him a knowing look and chuckling before you spoke.

“Dude, it’s so obvious.”

“Well, what about you and Steve?” Jonathan fired back, aggressively ripping more cardboard.

“That is so not the same thing,” you whispered, hoping that Nancy and Steve didn’t hear him. The last thing you needed was to be on Nancy’s bad side. She was super badass and if she knew that things had been weird between you and her boyfriend (ex boyfriend?) you were sure there’d be hell to pay.

“I mean, it seems pretty similar to me,” Jonathan replied frustrated, “it doesn’t matter anyway; they’re not together anymore.”

“I mean, I know they argued, but I didn’t know they officially ended things,” you responded, doubtful of Jonathan’s words.

“Trust me. I know,” he remarked, saying the words with such finality that you could connect the dots to confirm that something had happened between the two of them. You dropped the subject, not wanting to piss Jonathan off further. After twenty more minutes of stapling and duct taping cardboard and newspapers to the walls of the shed, it was finally done, and everyone except for Hopper, Mike, Joyce, and Jonathan retreated to the inside of the Byers’ house.

There wasn’t much else to do other than wait, so you sat on the family room couch as Steve practiced his swing with the nail bat over and over and over again. It was weird, sitting and doing nothing while all of this was going on. You finally felt how tired your legs were from walking all throughout the’ woods and you really just wanted to take a nap.

“Did you put anymore thought into that essay?” You broke the silence as you asked Steve. His concentration broke as he stopped swinging the bat to look at you. The question caught him off guard and he wasn’t really sure what to say. What could he say? This had all been such a huge distraction that he hadn’t even really had the time to think about what his college essay should be about. Every time he thought about it, his mind would just go back to you and then he would push it aside.

“Uh, no. Not really, I mean…there’s kind of been a lot going on,” he chuckled, gesturing to the papers strewn about the house, a reminder of all of the shit you’d been through.

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” you replied, a bit bummed that your question hadn’t struck up a conversation like you had hoped it would; you hoped it would provide you an opportunity to be helpful in at least some capacity while you sat and twiddled your thumbs.

“What about you? What are your post grad plans?” He asked in return.

“You know, I’m honestly not really sure anymore,” you replied, your voice shrinking down into something meek and small.

“What do you mean? You work so damn hard all the time, I thought you had everything figured out,” Steve questioned. It was a red flag to him that you were expressing such uncertainty; it just didn’t make sense.

“I guess…I don’t know, it sounds stupid,” you prefaced, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of your vulnerability before continuing, “but I guess it just feels a bit futile to make these plans for the future when I don’t even know what that’s going to look like. I mean, I was always so set on going to college, but aside from the questions about feasibility—like can I afford it, will I get scholarships, how far can I go if I don’t have a car—I’m now starting to question if it’s something I even want to do. I mean, with all of this shit going on, who even knows if I’ll even live long enough to make it to—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! Y/n, we’re not doomsday prepping here. And if you think there’s a chance you’re not going to get a shit ton of scholarships, well then you’re not as smart as I thought you were…which now that I’m saying it, is a bit…a bit paradoxical but that’s besides the point. The point is, you’re gonna go to some fancy school—as far away as you want to go—collect a shit ton of degrees, and then you’re gonna live until you’re so old you forget how much a pain in the ass we all are.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You were glad that someone was in your corner. Your past self would have dropped dead if she knew it was Steve that was your biggest supporter. Sometimes you felt so lost in the shuffle, not having the social status to feel like your efforts really mattered—or that they were going to be rewarded. Life had a way of very distinctively not going your way, but it was nice to know that you at least had someone who believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself. Before you could get too sentimental about it, the lights started flashing like crazy and you could tell that Will had woken up.

It went on like that for several minutes, as you all moved to the front of the house, ready for whatever threat would find you. You jumped when Hopper burst through the door, grabbing a scrap sheet of paper and writing out morse code.

“What happened?” You were quick to ask.

“I think he’s talking, just not with words?” Jim replied. You all watched as he wrote out a series of dots and dashes, translating it as he wrote their corresponding letters.

“What is that?” Steve asked, confused by the mess of symbols on the page.

“Morse code,” you all replied in unison. He shrugged and you wondered for a moment if you’d truly been attending the same school. You looked at the paper, “HERE” spelled out, clear as day.

“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us,” Hopper explained. So then began the operation of translating Will’s messages. Mike, Joyce, and Jonathan in the shed sharing memories with him while Hopper clicked Will’s communication through the walkie talkie. Huddled around the kitchen table were the rest of you, cheat sheets and scrap paper in hand, as you received Will’s message, letter by letter.

When Nancy wrote down the last letter, you all leaned over to read what Will had covertly been able to communicate to you.

“Close gate,” you all read. Suddenly the phone rang, and you all froze for a second. It was a dead giveaway that Will was still at his house. Dustin quickly scrambled to hang it up, but it rang again, likely Hopper’s military backup. You ran beside him, ripping the phone from the wall and tossing it across the room.

“Do you think he heard that?” Max asked hesitantly.

“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere, right?” Steve added, trying to quell the anxiety permeating around the room, the air thick with worry. Steve was proved wrong, when Hopper came flying through the back door with his rifle, grabbing another gun as he shouted at all of you.

“Hey! Hey, get away from the windows!” He pulled the kids away from the front of the room. “Can you use this?” He held his gun out to Jonathan. The boy stammered in response, and Him didn’t have time for this. “I said, can you use this?”

“I can,” Nancy spoke up and you felt a bit relieved that she would have the gun. You trusted her with a gun more than anyone else, glad that it was her and not you. Everyone who had weapons held them up, aiming them towards the door. You gripped your knife tightly; this was a fight you were going to finish.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you heard the familiar screeching and chattering of the demogorgons outside of the house. It kept getting closer and closer, and your jaw set as you tried to focus your energy on the task at hand. You knew that after this, you were going to fall apart, and you just hoped that someone would be there to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly, the screeching stopped and a demo-dog—as Dustin had so idiotically coined them—came crashing through the glass of the window, falling in a heap on the family room floor. Dead.

“Holy shit,” Dustin whispered and you couldn’t help but agree. Holy shit was right, this was fucking insane.

You all turned as you heard noise by the front door. You reached up and grasped the back of Steve’s shirt out of fear, as the locks were undone from outside. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes, but you had seen a lot weirder shit, so this was pretty tame in comparison. Despite how ready you had been earlier, in the face of the impending threat, your confidence started to falter, as you pressed yourself up against Steve in hopes that holding on to him would make you feel more secure.

The door slowly swung open, and in stepped a girl about the same age as the other kids, her short hair slicked back, dark makeup applied around her eyes. Everyone lowered their weapons, Steve going to put an arm around you, squeezing your arm. You realized that this must be Eleven, the girl with the telepathic abilities that Dustin had told you about. Mike swiftly stepped forward to hug her as she burst into tears. Your heart broke for her; you couldn’t imagine what it was like to be someone’s science experiment for your whole life.

Hopper stepped forward to pull the girl in for a hug and that was when you all connected the dots that he had been hiding her since she disappeared last year. You were shocked, but not as shocked as Mike.

And he was mad.

***

Hopper had calmed Mike down, leading to a very long discussion of how you were able to kill this mind flayer without hurting Will in the process. Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce had left with Will to steam the mind flayer out of him so that Hopper could take Eleven back to Hawkins Lab to close the gate.

That left you and Steve in charge of the four remaining kids…which really just made you want to cry. Because now your babysitting consisted of Dustin throwing all of the food from the Byers’ fridge onto the floor while Steve shoved a dead monster from an unknown dimension into it. And you weren’t even getting paid for it.

“Fine, but you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers,” Steve reluctantly agreed, holding the demogorgon like a damn baby before the boys worked together to slam the fridge closed. Good riddance, you thought as it disappeared from view. Steve put his hand on the boy’s head, jostling his hat, before turning away from the fridge. The sight would’ve been endearing if they hadn’t just bonded over a dead monster that had almost tried to kill you.

Mike began pacing back and forth, frustrated that you were all stuck at Will’s instead of helping Eleven close the gate. The kids swiftly started arguing over it and you pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to take another second of their bickering.

“Would you all just shut the fuck up? Please?” You begged, but no one listened. Steve noticed your frustration and tried to help in the best way he knew how: with a sports metaphor.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in the game, bottom line, you execute it, alright?”

“First of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the bench,” Mike argued. You sighed at how little Steve had thought this through. He noticed you glaring at him and tried and failed to salvage what he could of his life lesson to the impressionable young children.

“So…so yeah, my point is…” he stammered, and you all watched him expectantly as he paused. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not exactly true. When we were at the bus, the demo-dogs got called away,” Dustin reminded you all.

“So if we get their attention, maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max continued.

“Clear a path to the gate,” you chimed in. Steve looked at you, betrayed. He needed you to back him up on this otherwise this babysitting shit wasn’t going to work.

“Uh, yeah. And then we all die!” Steve threw his hands up in exasperation.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin argued.

“That is not a point of view, man, that is a fact.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s a fact or a point of view, the point is, it’s still dangerous,” you added, coming to your senses. There was no way you could attract these monsters without someone getting hurt. You’d rather be on the bench than lose a teammate to a career ending injury. Fucking hell, I hate these sports metaphors. Who am I?

“I got it! This is where the chief dug his hole and it’s our way into the tunnels,” Mike explained, showing you a spot on Will’s map, “right here, this is a hub, it connects to all the other tunnels. Maybe if we set this on fire—“

“Yeah, that’s a no!” Steve yelled.

“The mind flayer would call away his army. They’d come to stop us,” Dustin continued.

“We circle back to the exit, by the time they realize we’re gone—“ Mike started.

“El would be at the gate,” Max finished his thought.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve clapped to draw the kids out of their batshit crazy plans. “This is not fucking happening.”

“But—“

“No, no, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here—on the bench—and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?”

“This isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike shot back, annoyed that his sister’s now ex boyfriend was trying to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.

“I said, does everybody understand that?” Steve seemed scary, and honestly it was kind of a turn on. You didn’t mind him telling you what to do if he looked that damn hot doing it. You tried to shake the thought away, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the way he seemed so paternal. He was stepping up as a babysitter and you couldn’t be prouder.

“I need a yes,” you added when none of the children responded, trying to demonstrate to Steve that you were on his team. While Steve was scary, Dustin still thought you were a thousand times scarier, even though you’d only said four words. Before Dustin could open his mouth to speak, you were all distracted by an engine revving outside.

Max ran to the window, recognizing the car as her heart leapt to her throat. “That’s my brother. He can’t know we’re here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us!” Max rambled, clearly intimidated by her step brother. You went to put an arm on the girl’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

“Don’t worry about it Max, I’ll handle it. I promise,” you told the girl as you stepped towards the door.

“Uh uh. No way. Not happening,” Steve pulled you behind him a bit aggressively as he had recognized the plates from sunny California, connecting the dots to figure that Max had the misfortune of being related to the biggest asshole he had ever met. Before you could protest, he swiftly exited the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked with a shit eating grin on his face, stepping out of his car.

“Yeah it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

“What are you doing here amigo?” Billy asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve replied, wanting to give him as little information as possible.

“Looking for my step sister. A little birdie told me she was here. Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?”

“Sorry doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I don’t know, this whole situation, Harrington, is giving me a bit of the heebie-jeebies. My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day and I find her with you at a stranger’s house, and you lie to me about it.”

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child? I told you, she’s not here,” Steve was surprised he was able to keep his voice even. He was face to face with Billy and all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of him. He had been an ass to you and clearly Max was afraid of him too, so he deserved to have the shit kicked out of him. All things considered, Steve thought he was being pretty damn civil.

“Then who is that?” Billy asked, pointing his cigarette at the window. Steve turned around and watched as all four kids ducked out of view. Where the fuck were you when all of this was happening?

“Oh shit,” he whispered before turning back around to face Billy, “Listen—“

His explanation was cut off when Billy shoved him to the ground. “I told you to plant your feet,” he seethed, kicking Steve in the stomach before entering the house.

When Billy slammed open the door, there you were, in a protective stance in front of the kids, slowly backing them towards the kitchen. “What the fuck is this, y/n?” He approached you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you were scared out of your mind. But in that moment, all that mattered was those kids, as you took a step towards Billy, chin up.

“And look who it is, Lucas Sinclair,” he added, looking past you. He turned to Max, “you disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me…I break things.” He lunged to grab Lucas but you shoved him back enough to knock him off kilter, redirecting his focus as he grabbed the collar of your windbreaker instead, forcing you into a corner of the room. Your shoulders tensed up and you froze, struggling as you attempted to pry yourself out of his grip.

“Y/n, I’ve gotta say. I’m disappointed. I’ve been nothing but nice to you and this—” he dropped your collar, hand shooting to grab your wrist to prevent you from moving away as he gestured to his sister, “—this is how you repay me?”

“Let me go!” You seethed as you kicked him where it hurt. He groaned as he backed up, but it wasn’t enough room for you to escape. He slapped you across the face, grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming you back against the wall. He threw another punch to your face and your nose began to gush blood, most likely broken.

“You bitch! You’re dead!” He shouted, pulling you towards him to slam you into the wall again, when Steve suddenly grabbed his arm.

“No. You are,” he said before throwing a solid punch at Billy. You fell to the floor, grateful you were in the kitchen as you reached for a towel to hold up to your nose. He doubled over before twisting back up to face Steve, cackling with a wide smile on his face. He was absolutely insane, as you sat horrified. You wanted to get up, help Steve, say anything, but you were struggling to keep your eyes open as you began to hyperventilate.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about,” Billy stepped towards him again.

“Get the fuck out,” Steve warned, pushing him away. There was a moment of stillness in the kitchen before Billy swung at Steve, but he ducked at the last minute, throwing another punch back that landed at Billy’s temple. He backed up and the kitchen erupted into a chorus of cheers for Steve to fuck Billy up as Steve threw another punch.

Steve’s advantage didn’t last for long, as Billy grabbed a dinner plate, breaking it over Steve’s head. Steve moved back into the family room, clutching his head as Billy followed him, throwing a punch that knocked Steve off balance.

“No one tells me what to do,” Billy seethed, shoving Steve to the ground before getting on top of him throwing punch after punch his way. Seeing Steve hurt gave you the strength you needed to stand up. You wobbled slightly, grabbing the golf club from your backpack and heading over to the family room where Steve was getting the shit beat out of him.

You swung back, your vision blurred as you attempted to line up your swing. You didn’t want to kill the boy, but you did want to incapacitate him, and there seemed to be a very fine line between those things when you could barely see straight to swing with accuracy. Billy must have seen you in his peripheral as he swiftly stood, Steve long passed out, and grabbed the club from your hand. Your eyes fluttered as you attempted to stay standing, wanting to crumble under Billy’s wild gaze. He shoved you to the floor, your head hitting the ground hard. Your ears were ringing as he got on top of you, pinning your hands down beside your head. A tear escaped your eye as the ringing stopped and he got dangerously close to your ear to whisper in it.

“You should’ve just been a good girl and listened on Halloween.”

A small cry escaped your lips as he grabbed your shoulders and slammed you into the ground again. Your eyes were fluttering shut, but the last thing you saw was Max appear behind the boy, a needle plunging deep into Billy’s neck. He shouted out in pain as Max administered the sedative, Billy standing up to face her. You wanted to say something, anything, stand up to protect the young girl, wrapped up in fighting these monsters even though she lived with one.

You wanted to fight for her, but she disappeared as the world went dark.

***

Steve woke up in the backseat of a car, double vision making it hard to make out anything in the dark. He saw someone holding a can of gasoline and thought the features seemed familiar.

“Nancy?” He croaked out. But as his vision cleared, he was met with the confused gaze of Mike Wheeler. He felt a deep pain in his face and he went up to feel his nose, which was undoubtedly broken, when a hand pushed his away.

“No, don’t touch it,” he heard Dustin’s voice, turning to look him in the eyes “Hey, buddy. It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.” At least the boy was honest, but couldn’t he at least sugarcoat it a little bit?

The rest of his body started to wake up, and that was when he noticed the weight across his chest, lifting his head which ached in such an indescribable way, to notice you, brightly covered band-aids littering your bruised and battered face, unconscious on top of him.

He heard Lucas giving the driver directions and that was when it all clicked for him and his mind finally showed up. If you were unconscious then who was driving the fucking car?!

“Oh my god!” Steve choked out causing you to stir. His hands grabbed onto you as groaned, eyes slowly fluttering open.

You came to much faster than Steve had, pretty much immediately noticing that Max was driving the car. “What the fuck!” You exclaimed, attempting to sit up, but Dustin pushed you back into Steve.

“Just relax. She’s driven before,” Dustin assured you.

“Yeah, in a parking lot,” Mike shot back, clearly not happy about this plan either.

“That counts!” Lucas chimed in from the passenger seat.

“Oh my god,” Steve repeated gripping onto you tighter.

“They were going to leave you behind. I promised that you’d be cool!” Dustin told him, trying to convince him to behave.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what’s going on?” He yelled out as Max accelerated. “Ohhhh, woah! No! Stop the car, slow down!” He yelled and you shrieked as you buried your face in his neck. His arm instinctively curled around your waist, holding you tight against his body.

“I told you he’d freak out!” Mike yelled, annoyed that they hadn’t just left him behind. To be honest, he knew you’d freak out too but he couldn’t in good conscience leave you there. Especially if Billy woke up.

“Stop the car!” You screamed, but it was slightly muffled as you were unwilling to leave the safe haven that was Steve’s neck, head still buried there as if your life depended on it.

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max shouted.

“Make a left! Make a left!” Lucas shouted pointing at the turn Max was about to pass up. She cut it hard, the inertia throwing you all to the right of the car, as Steve squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his other arm around you as he held onto you with all his might. Max, swerved as she attempted to regain control of the vehicle, taking out a mailbox in the process. Well, that’s a felony, you thought as she continued on. You’d faced monsters of unimaginable terror and this was how you were going to go out: in the backseat of a car with a child at the wheel.

After several more minutes that felt like hours of reckless driving, the car screeched to a halt at the opening of the tunnel Hopper had dug into. “I told you. Zoomer,” Max exclaimed confidently from the front seat.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You cried out, done with this hellish car ride. The kids all swiftly made their way out of the car, you and Steve having a bit more trouble. Neither of you were able to gain your footing too quickly, as you stumbled into him. He caught you, allowing you to brace yourself against him as you righted yourself.

“Oh no, guys!” Steve groaned, “hey! Where do you think you’re going?” He added as Dustin made his way over to the opening of the tunnel, can of gasoline in hand. “We are not going down there! I made myself clear!”

No one was listening as the kids all moved around the two of you, grabbing supplies and preparing for their descent. “Hey! There is no chance we’re going in that hole, alright? This ends right now!” He moved away from you gripping the backpack out of the trunk before Dustin could grab it.

“Steve! You’re upset, I get it. But bottom line is a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance you’d keep us safe, so keep us safe,” Dustin emphasized the end as he held out Steve’s backpack and tossed you your sheathed blade.

Donning bandanas and goggles, you and Steve descended into the tunnel before the rest of the kids.

“It’s this way!” Mike announced, following his crudely drawn map. Steve snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey, I don’t think so. If any of you shits die down here, I’m getting the blame, got it dipshit? From here on out I’m leading the way. Come on let’s go!” He yelled. You joined him at the front of the group to talk to him as the kids formed their own group in the rear to talk.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you apologized. He turned to look at you and you wished you could see his face to determine the look on it.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, shocked that you would even think that was necessary.

“It’s just, you stopped Billy from hitting me and then he beat the shit out of you. So I’m sorry because that should’ve been me,” you answered him, your eyes welling up with tears. You willed yourself not to cry. The last thing you needed was these dumbass swim goggles filling with water.

“I’m fucking glad it wasn’t you y/n. And I’m not gonna let him touch you ever again, okay? I promise.”

You nodded, too choked up to trust your voice as you continued down the tunnels. You pushed away the anxiety you were feeling about getting lost, trusting that the map the kids had drawn was correct. It took a while but finally the tunnels opened up and you saw countless other ones that fed to this location.

“I think we found your hub,” you exclaimed taking in the sight. It was pretty insane to look at and you couldn’t quite believe that all of this was here in Hawkins.

“Let’s drench it,” Mike replied, ready to kill the fucking thing; hit it where it hurt. You all poured gasoline all around the hub, the smell almost nauseating, making you glad you had the bandana around your face. When it was all finally said and done, you all retreated to the tunnel that you came from, facing your gasoline soaked work.

“Alright. Are you ready?” Steve asked.

“Light her up,” you replied.

“I am in such deep shit,” Steve added before sparking his lighter and tossing it into the hub. It erupted into flames and your mind flashed back to the fire Jonathan had set last year in his hallway, burning the demogorgon that had nearly killed you.

“Go, go, go!” Steve yelled, the kids running ahead of you as you and Steve took up the rear this time, wanting to make sure that if all else failed, the kids got out. You ran through the tunnels as swiftly as you could, attempting not to trip on the vines scattered haphazardly across the ground. Suddenly, Mike began screaming for help as you realized a vine had wrapped around his ankle, pulling him to the floor.

“Everybody back!” You yelled as you unsheathed your knife, slashing the vine and releasing Mike from its grip. He stood and you geared up to continue your way through the tunnels, when you came face to face with one of the demo-dogs.

“Dart?” Dustin asked. You all screamed at Dustin to get back but he didn’t listen. “Trust me. Hey it’s me. It’s your friend, Dustin. You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

The demogorgon opened its mouth to shriek at him and you were about to lunge forward to grab Dustin, but Steve stopped you.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry about the cellar. You hungry?” Dustin asked reaching into his backpack, pulling out a three musketeers. “I’ve got our favorite! Nougat,” he unwrapped the candy placing it in front of the demogorgon waving all of you to go ahead of him. You hesitated but finally listened, going against all instinct and trusting that the boy might know what he’s doing.

You all finally made your way back to the rope when the ground began to shake and you heard the shrieking of demogorgons in the distance. They were coming, and they were coming fast.

Steve lifted up each kid, boosting them up so they could climb the rope and exit the tunnels, until it was just you and him. They were gaining on you and there was no time. Steve had his bat ready to swing, and you braced for impact knowing that there was nothing the two of you could do to stop the dozens of demo-dogs that were inevitably coming. You shut your eyes, hearing the growl of the demogorgons and the cries from the kids above you, but the impact never came instead, you clutched Steve to keep your balance, as the demo-dogs sprinted past you, headed somewhere else.

You chuckled in disbelief, hugging Steve, burying your face in his chest as his hand went to the nape of your neck. You both swayed like that for a moment, holding each other in relief before the kids broke the magic of the moment.

“Hey lovebirds! We need to get out of here!” Dustin yelled down the hole.

Those damn kids.

***

Steve agreed to drive Dustin to the Snowball, and you begged to go with. Despite all of the bullshit he’d put you through, you loved the kid more than you loved most things, and you weren’t going to miss the opportunity to see him all dressed up for this school dance.

“Alright, buddy. Here we are,” Steve said as he pulled up to Hawkins Middle. “Just remember, go in there—“

“And pretend I don’t care.”

“There you go. You’re learning, my friend,” Steve smiled and you rolled your eyes from the backseat. Dustin leaned forward to check the visor mirror, but Steve slammed it back shut before he could open it.

“Hey, come on. You look great, okay? You’re gonna go in there—you look like a million bucks—and you’re gonna slay ‘em dead, okay?”

“Like a lion,” Dustin replied, rolling his r’s in a weird purr that had you cringing behind him.

“Yeah, don’t do that, okay?” Steve warned and Dustin nodded. “Good luck,” he added as he shook Dustin’s hand before Dustin exited the car, making his way into the gym.

You moved to the front seat a wide grin on your face. “That was sweet,” you told Steve and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, freak,” Steve grumbled.

“Hey, that’s a good thing you know,” you reminded him as he began to pull away, making his way back towards his house. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying at yours again?” You asked. You two were beginning to blur the line between friends and something more.

“Yeah, yeah! Of course. I wouldn’t want to go home to an empty house after all of that shit either,” Steve told you, though most days he did go home to an empty house, his parents on various different business trips. Your parents just worked nights occasionally, and every once in a while they coincided. Since Eleven closed the gate, even though things were better, you still weren’t too keen on staying home alone, so you’d made it a habit to stay at Steve’s, so long as his parents were gone (which they usually were).

Steve wasn’t going to complain. And he definitely wasn’t going to tell you no. He wanted more than anything to be there for you and if company was what you needed, he made damn sure he could provide it. Plus, you still shared a bed with him when you stayed the night.

As Steve looked at you, moonlight hitting your face and making all your features look soft as you hummed and nodded along to the music on the radio, he knew he wasn’t going to write that damn college essay. College wasn’t really for him, and deep down he’d always known it.

And besides, he wasn’t quite ready to leave you yet.

***

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this part! I’m excited to start writing for season 3! Comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! I’d love to know what you think ;)

[melodygatesauthor]

The Fractured Moon - Part 1

Yandere! Marc Spector - Jake Lockley - Steven Grant X f!Reader

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Moodboard - Series Masterlist - AO3 Link

Summary:

Marc Spector always knew he wasn't right in the head. Jake and Steven were a perfect example of that. He'd managed to figure that part of his life out though, learning how to live with his alters in a way that left everyone happy, including Khonshu.

That all changed when Steven spotted you during a tour at the museum. There was no explanation for the way his heart stopped in his chest, or the way he knew he had to have you, but they all felt it, and it left their minds fractured beyond repair.

Disclaimer:

I created this fic for the sole purpose of exploring the yandere thing as a fanfiction "kink" in a safe way and in a safe space. I in no way would want this to happen to myself or someone else. This fic is not a reflection of my moral beliefs. - Further, this fic is not an accurate representation of people with DID (dissociative identity disorder). These men happen to have DID and I'm putting them in a situation where they would have an unhealthy obsession with the reader character.

Tags/Warnings:

NSFW, Stalking, non-con, somnophilia, rape, mentions of murder, drugged sex, kidnapping, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, threats of physical harm, copious amounts of sex, copious amounts of unprotected sex, blood, unrealistic refractory period, biting, slapping, hitting, reader is smol, choking. This is a Dead Dove Do Not Eat situation.

Word Count: 13.7k (I...I was inspired)

Spanish Terms:

Estoy de acuerdo = I agree

hijo de puta = motherfucker

Quiero tocar = I want to touch

buena niña = good girl

Steven was the first one to notice you, standing by the sarcophagus the museum had on display. He could see you through the archway that separated the museum floor and the giftshop. There was no explaining what it was that captivated him. It could’ve been the way your eyes lit up so full of excitement while the tour guide spoke; it also could’ve been the way your smile seemed to make the entire world come to a screeching halt; regardless, something about you took his breath away and left him clutching his chest behind the gift shop counter. Donna snapped at him, and for once, he didn’t care. He’d just found his reason for living…his purpose…it was you.

It started with a simple conversation. He walked up behind you while you were listening to the tour guide and put a daring hand on your back. You spun around to face him, eyes full of confusion, unsure as to why someone would just walk up to you and touch you like that. You were wearing something low-cut, Steven’s eyes quickly took inventory of your appearance. So much more beautiful than he had the capacity to fully grasp.

You felt a moment of discomfort under his traveling gaze. He was looking at you with his mouth partially open, lips quirked in a sideways smirk while his eyes crawled over every inch of you. You stepped back and pulled your blazer over yourself, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way he was staring.

“Can I help you?” You asked, trying not to sound too rude. It was possible he was just awkward and bad at talking to people.

Now that Steven had your attention, he wasn’t sure what to say. Did he just randomly ask you on a date? No, surely you’d think that was insane. Did he tell you how beautiful you were? No, that might be creepy.

“Just tell her you’re sorry pendejo, you’re creeping her out.” Jake muttered from within Steven’s mind.

“S-sorry, thought you were someone else.” He said to you, taking a step back.

“Oh, it’s okay.” You gave him a courteous smile before returning to the tour. 

You thought about that interaction for a few minutes while the tour guide droned on, wondering who he’d mistaken you for, and why he would’ve looked at her like that.

“Something’s not right, Steven,” Marc said from the headspace while Steven stood there, hand still pressed to his sternum.

“Si, something about her is so…”

“Tantalizing.”

The other two agreed in unison. Steven sauntered back to the gift shop, trying to go about his business, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was in a daze, going through the motions of his job, but not mentally present. Donna approached, and he didn’t even notice her right away. She had to say his name a minimum of three times to get his attention.

He looked up at her, aggravated by her seemingly incessant need to make him feel like a nuisance. She was smacking her jaw together while chewing her gum.

“Stevie, we’re out of the hippo plushies, I’m gonna need you to go downstairs and bring a case up here.”

Steven didn’t want to miss the chance of seeing you, he had to see you again. Surely your tour would be ending soon. If he wasn’t in the gift shop when it ended, he might not see you. He couldn’t take that risk.

“The plushies can wait. I’ve got something more pressing to worry about right now.” He protested, looking out toward the museum entry to see if he could spot you among the other patrons.

“Oh yeah, like what? You’ve got something better to do than your job? While you’re at work?” She said, continuing to chew her gum obnoxiously between her teeth.

“Fine,” Steven conceded, knowing that he didn’t really have a good reason to stand there and wait for you, not one that he could give his boss anyway.

Steven walked out to the entry hall, where you would be walking by to get to the giftshop once your tour concluded. He stopped before turning down the hall toward the stock closets. He spotted you, coming toward him with your group and felt his breath catch suddenly. He thought he might collapse.

As you walked toward the gift shop, you saw the man again, and noticed he was staring once more. You furrowed your brow at him while you passed before averting your gaze awkwardly. He was looking at you so…so…it was like you were the only thing in existence. It made every nerve ending in your body stand up, screaming at you to leave, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to seem weird. Plus, you were in a public space. There was nothing to be afraid of…right?

Donna was shouting Steven’s name incorrectly, pulling him out of his trance. She tapped his shoulder roughly. Steven gulped down a breath of air and within a split second, it wasn’t Steven anymore.

“Shut it, puta, I quit.” Jake said walking out of the museum doors.

“Jake, we can’t just quit my job, how are we gonna…”

“Your job isn’t necessary, compadre.”

It was true, as much as Steven hated to admit when Jake was right. His job was a good way for them, as Moon Knight, to keep themselves under cover. No one would suspect a timidly mannered man that worked as a gift shop clerk to be an avatar for the Egyptian moon god.

Jake blinked in the harsh sunlight, looking to see where you could’ve gone. Since it was a nice day out, you were probably walking, which meant you would be easier to find.

“Let me out, I can find her,” Marc said.

And find you he did. He followed you after seeing a glimpse of your blazer blowing in the wind as you turned a corner down the street. He tried not to get too excited, careful not to break into a jog or a run after you. Marc had to find a balance between getting too close, thus alerting you to their presence, and being too far away that he might lose you altogether. He followed you a few blocks when he watched you walk into the library.

“She…she likes to read,” Steven observed.

Marc could feel how excited Steven was by that prospect alone. You had something in common with one of them. There was potential there. Maybe this would go better than they thought. He stopped before going inside though, feeling unsure about what it was they were actually doing there. He’d seen how uncomfortable his alter made you when he first spoke to you during your tour.

“Marc, what are you doing? Go inside, now.” He’d never heard Steven sound so demanding, or dark, and something about it compelled Marc to move forward.

He walked into the library and nodded awkwardly at the librarian. Marc didn’t know where you were yet, and he still wasn’t sure what he would do once he did find you. He couldn’t very well walk over and strike up a conversation with you. You’d notice the out of place American accent immediately and think they were crazy. He started idly walking, staying behind shelves in case they did find you. He didn’t want you to notice their presence.

When he finally found you, Marc’s guilty conscience caught up to him. You were so cute, grabbing a book off the shelf in the aisle across the way before walking to sit down in one of the big bean chairs. You smiled as you opened the book. The cover read, La Belle et la Bête. An unmistakable smirk snuck over Marc’s lips at the sight of you.

Someone walked by the aisle, cutting off his gaze and forcing him to shake his head from the fog you’d unknowingly placed him under. What in the hell were they doing? Marc wasn’t a psycho stalker, neither were the other two, and yet they’d followed you all the way there, and they stood watching you. That wasn’t like them at all. They were the good guys. They were the guys that stopped creeps like that.

Marc walked down the aisle and exited the library as quickly as he could.

“Where are you goin’?” Steven asked, almost frantically as Marc started his way down the street.

“We aren’t crazy, we aren’t going to stalk this poor girl.” He said, as they walked away. It didn’t stop him from thinking about you though.

----

When they reached their apartment, a dark and dingy place that was mostly occupied by Steven, they were all flustered from the events of the day. Marc was still fronting, but his alters were muttering wildly in his head. Jake was going on in Spanish about how beautiful you were, and Steven was in full agreement. Marc was still trying to understand this new feeling, the urge he had that he’d never felt before. He felt this huge need, like if he never saw your face again, he might just die.

“We have to go back, we have to see her,” Steven said, excitement brewing in his tone. If he had control of the body, Marc imagined he would be pacing and hyperventilating. “Never seen anyone like that, so gorgeous, so…so damn pretty. Wasn’t she so pretty Marc?”

“We just need to calm down.” Marc said, breathing heavily himself and leaned himself against the couch tiredly. “Maybe if we just sleep it off we can-”

“Did you see the way she looked at us, Marc? I think she likes us.” Steven said. “The way she smiled…”

“She wasn’t into us, we startled her.” Marc protested. “You creeped her out.”

“Did not. She smiled at me, I bet if we had asked her out she woulda said yes.”

“Did you notice how soft her skin looked?” Jake asked, and there was silence, as though all three of them were recalling your appearance. “We don’t need to talk to her, but what I wouldn’t do just to look at her again.”

Marc’s thoughts consumed him. He remembered seeing your lips while you sat there in the library, for that brief moment. You did look so beautiful. Your eyes lit up at whatever was on your page, not noticing the man who was watching you intently while he just tried to figure out a way to actually approach you.

Your lips looked so soft, and he couldn’t help imagining them against his. He wanted to devour you in the best way. No one had ever made Marc feel so shaken, he could normally keep himself together. His cock was nagging incessantly against the zipper of his pants, begging for stimulation. He shifted, trying to ignore it, but what he wanted to ignore, the other two wanted him to deal with.

“If you’re not going to do anything about it, amigo, let Steven or me take care of it. I’d love to spend the night thinking about our little princesa.”

Marc grumbled, but gave in to his more primal urges and pulled his pants and underwear down around his thighs. When he looked down at his cock, he was ashamed that it was already leaking just from thinking about you so much. Not to mention that he was so fucking hard. He shifted himself, leaning back a little, grabbing it firmly in his caged fingers. Marc pooled some spit in his mouth and dropped it over the head, letting the saliva trickle down his thick shaft. All he could picture was you, so sweet and innocent while you got into your book. A heavy sigh left him while he brought his hand up in an even stroke.

“She was so pretty, wasn’t she Marc?” Steven urged, “I’ll need a turn with the body when you’re done, yeah?”

“Quiet, Steven.” Marc said firmly.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. I just keep thinkin’ about how good her breasts looked, pushed together like that…I just wanna feel them, hold them in my hands. I bet she has pretty little nipples, too, don’t you?”

Marc groaned at the thought of having one of your tits in his mouth. He assumed that you had cute little nipples, and he imagined that you would gasp when he sucked on each one. He then thought about how sweet your little cries would be while he took hold of your body and thrust into you. You had such a nice voice, you’d probably make the best noises.

“I bet she has a tight little cunt,” Jake sounded rough. Marc knew he only had a little time before his alter took over to satisfy his own needs.

“Bet you’re right.” Marc said, not bothering to attempt pushing them out anymore. They were fueling his thoughts of you.

“Oh, I’d love to feel it, bet it’s all wet.” Steven sighed heavily.

“F-fuck.” Marc started jerking faster, but he didn’t get to finish.

Jake couldn’t stand it anymore, the thoughts of you brought him out into the open, forcing Marc into the headspace where he would remain for the evening, begrudgingly. Deep down though, Marc still felt riddled with guilt, so didn’t protest much to his alter taking over. Jake bit his bottom lip, adjusting his position to one he liked better, a looser grip, and shoulders more relaxed. He worked faster than Marc, at first anyway, letting out a sharp exhale while he jerked himself. There wasn’t enough slick beneath his fingers, so he globbed more spit down his length.

“See, I think Jake’s onto something. I wonder if she’d like us taking her slow, or if she’d like us to take her fast, real fast.”

“She wouldn’t like any of it Steven, we’re not…doing any of that.” Marc’s guilt for thinking about you so much was becoming more apparent, but he still couldn’t stop himself. “She would look good though, wouldn’t she?”

“Gotta know what she feels like, gotta know how tight…mm” Jake put his arm up on the back of the couch and leaned back, spreading his legs wider. “Little princesa.”

Jake slowed down, moving along the length of his shaft and enjoying the way it pulsated beneath his fingers. He knew if he ever got the chance to show you how it felt, you’d like it, too. Just when he couldn’t stand it, so close to spilling hot white ropes all over Steven’s shirt, he stopped, bringing his hand to the couch cushion and letting it rest there.

His cock bobbed, having been so close to climax. Jake was panting heavily, sweat started beading on his brow. His cock was aching, so swollen it might burst. He looked down at it, watching the way his precum beaded at the slit, piling so much that it trickled over the side. Steven was practically screaming from the headspace to be let out so he could finish them off.

“Be patient, Steven,” Jake said as a warning, waiting a little longer before wrapping his fingers back around his thick cock.

He churned his hips upward into his palm, letting out a soft exhale at the feeling. His mind kept going back to how tight and wet he hoped your pussy was; how soft he hoped it was. It wasn’t like Jake to give into obsession like this, but something about you had flipped a switch in their minds, fracturing the line between order and chaos. He imagined himself fucking you until you screamed his name. He thought about how good you would look so cock drunk you could hardly open your eyes.

“I keep thinkin’, she was smilin’. I think she’d like anything we did to her.” Steven said, furthering the delusion in his mind that you were as into them as they were you.

“Like…like what?” Jake grunted, increasing his pace and encouraging Steven to keep muttering the filthy thoughts in his mind.

“Oh anything, I think she’d love if we kissed her, told her how pretty she is, filled her with everything we’ve got.”

“Yeah she would, she’d like that…hmm…”

Just as he was there, with his abdomen tightened in preparation for his release, Jake let go of his cock once again, letting it sit there, twitching as it was denied further friction. He let out a sigh of longing, but he knew waiting would make it all the more explosive. It didn’t matter though, the other alter was chomping at the bit, and couldn’t wait any longer.

Steven came out to the feeling of painful throbbing between his legs, desperate for more attention. He gathered another huge glob of spit together and dropped it down over his length. He moaned deeply the moment he started moving his palm over the slick and veiny surface. He was anything but quiet, whimpering and whining while he got to work. It felt so good, and thinking about the way your slick cunt would feel if…when he finally got the chance to have it just pushed him so much closer.

“We’ve got to feel it, we’ve got to…oh shit.” Steven bit his bottom lip so hard he thought it might bleed.

“Estoy de acuerdo.” Jake muttered, “I want to taste.”

Marc was staying silent now. Steven presumed he was feeling the guilt of this obsession that was brewing, but Steven couldn’t care less, he was so enraptured by you. He grabbed the couch tightly, squeezing the cushion with all his strength. He was stroking himself fast, thinking about how wet you would be if only they had the chance to show you how good they could make you feel.

“That’s it, Steven, bet she’d like to feel us filling her up. Who do you think she’ll like best?”

It wasn’t lost on Marc that Jake and Steven were speaking as though they were actually going to have you some day. Steven couldn’t take it anymore, he felt his climax build, pooling in his groin and then shooting in hot spurts against his patterned button-down. He was groaning deeply, bucking upward even after the last shot, just loving the feeling of emptying himself to the thought of you. They all were loving the thought of emptying themselves into you…

----

It was their hope, Marc’s especially, that their obsession had been curbed with the evening of self-love, but it hadn’t. Over the next few weeks, they each found themselves going from casually walking by places they hoped they might find you, to full on following you from one destination to the next. On Fridays, you could be found in the library, on the beanbag chair, reading a book that you would take home for the week. Steven thought it was cute what a fast reader you were.

Marc would see you at work sometimes on the other days of the week. That was how they learned that you were a waitress at a local diner. You probably didn’t even realize that you handed Marc coffee, and that he eerily resembled the guy from the museum some time ago. They’d considered asking you out on a few occasions, but they kept reverting back to the one problem they faced…the fear of rejection. What if you said no? They’d be forced to take drastic measures, and they didn’t want to scare you away. They couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Jake would watch you in the night. Most nights, after you were finished with work, you would go home to your little first floor apartment in the crappy part of town; but on the weekends, he’d see you go out with your friends, laughing and drinking. One weekend was different though, you changed your routine, he saw you out with someone else.

There was a man, roughly their age, and they all felt an immediate cold feeling wash over the body. You were sitting with him in a nice restaurant. You were wearing something pretty, a tight little red dress that hugged your curves beautifully. It was clear you’d styled your hair specifically for this outing, and your makeup was done in a way that they hadn’t seen before. You liked this guy. Jake’s hands clenched into balled fists at his sides.

“Who’s that man?” Steven asked, aggravation apparent in his tone. “Don’t like the way he’s lookin’ at her mate.”

“Looks like she’s on a date,” Marc said, feeling a mixture of pain and relief. Maybe this was how they moved on.

Jake tsked, shaking his head slowly, “hijo de puta.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna…that he’s gonna touch her, do you?” Steven sounded worried, like if the man touched you, you might disintegrate into thin air.

“Not a chance,” Jake said in a gruff tone.

They watched quietly, save for Steven who whined through the majority of your date. He was so worried about the man tainting you, as he put it. And if Jake was being honest, he agreed. The thought of someone else burying their filthy disgusting cock in your perfect little cunt made them all enraged. They were relieved when the man brought you home and then left without even coming close to doing what they’d feared. They each appreciated what a good girl you were.

You’d never hear from that man again, and you’d always think it was because he ghosted you, when in reality it was much darker than that. Despite Marc’s protests, Jake couldn’t stand by and let someone else touch you. The thought of it had driven him to near madness. You were their little princess, not someone else’s to do with as they wished.

“I don’t think this is what Khonshu intended we use the suit for,” Steven said, despite being in agreement that the man needed to go somehow.

Jake snapped back, “that fucking bird needs us, he doesn’t care what we use the suit for.”

On a night not long after that, Jake found himself smirking while standing outside of your window, watching you while you readied yourself for bed. Your skin looked ridiculously soft. He wondered for a moment if you knew you were being watched. Surely you must’ve, it was apparent in the way you removed your bra and turned toward the window. Why else would you have left your curtain open like that? If you didn’t want to be seen, you would’ve closed your blinds, right?

Steven burst out to the front when that happened, seeing your erected nipples on display made him feral. He did all he could to not open your window right there and take you where you stood. Some drool dribbled down his chin and he wiped it quickly on the sleeve of Jake’s jacket.

“Oh come on, pendejo, that’s disgusting.”

Steven ignored him. His eyes burned when he didn’t blink, not wanting to miss even a millisecond of time with you. In just moments, you were covering your blinds, and they weren’t able to see anything else. They still stood there, hoping that you would give them just one last peek before they left for the night, but they’d be left disappointed.

The next morning, Marc knew you were at work, having passed by the diner on his way to your apartment. He had a plan…a thought to hopefully end this insanity once and for all.

“Marc, what are you thinkin’?” Steven asked cautiously as Marc shimmied open your window.

“You’ll like it…trust me.” He grunted, pulling the window open completely so they could slide through.

Marc still felt guilty for all the things they did; watching you, following you, jerking their cock to you almost every single night since they’d first seen you, but he knew there was no stopping it. He couldn’t get you out of his head, in the same way he couldn’t get Jake and Steven out. You were as much a necessity to him as the air he breathed.

“Maybe if we just…get ourselves a little something, we can stop this nonsense. Maybe just a little taste will be enough.” He hoped that they could find some way to move on from the mess, and everyone could get back to their normal lives.

The bedroom of your apartment was cluttered, but not dirty. They appreciated beyond words that you’d left what Marc had in mind right on the floor for them. A nice, silky pair of black panties just laying there. He leaned down, grabbing the thin fabric in his hands. He was tempted to press them to his face right then and there, but knew that doing so would lead to a longer visit than intended. He wouldn’t be able to resist the lingering ache that came with it. Even thinking about it at that moment made him start to feel a need growing inside his jeans.

“Look, there’s her hamper,” Steven pointed out the basket in the corner of the room, “maybe we could grab two more pairs, one for each of us.” 

“No, we don’t want her to notice.” Marc protested, slipping back out the window without a trace, save for the missing pair of panties he hoped you’d never notice.

----

It was later that night, after they’d spent the day with you, watching you work and seeing to it that you went to bed, that Marc was in his own bed with your panties in one hand, and his cock in the other. He’d stripped down naked the moment he got home, eager to finally get a look at their prize. They were soft, beautiful, and just knowing you’d had them touching the most delicate part of your body made his cock ache with need.

“Smell it, Marc, what’s it smell like?”

Marc obeyed his alter’s request, already being curious himself, and brought the part that had been closest to your cunt up to his nose. He inhaled deeply while making an upward stroke. He shuddered on his exhale. You smelled…delicious. It was too good to be real. You smelled indescribable.

“Marc, please let me out, let me try,” Steven started from the headspace. He was the neediest of the three, and Marc knew he had to work quickly to make sure he got this time for himself.

Marc ignored both of his alters now, wanting to revel in the silence of his thoughts, imagining that he was burying his face in your delicious pussy lips instead of just inhaling the remnants of it on your panties. He felt his cock throb, just imagining how your core would feel on his tongue if he shoved it in there. Your walls would contract a little while he slurped your sweet juices.

He tossed his head back, biting his bottom lip while he ran his palm over his precum slick shaft. You had such an effect on them, he’d never leaked that much before. He worried that thinking about you was starting to make him feel insane. Then he thought…what if he actually got to touch you?

Marc would have to continue those thoughts from the headspace, because Jake couldn’t take it anymore. Marc protested briefly, fighting to keep control, but the smell of your pussy was too intoxicating to his alter, and Jake needed to have it first hand. He dragged the crotch of the panties up his nostril with a deep sniff and then he nearly collapsed. The scent was unbearably arousing.

“Jake, please let me have the body, please. I need it,” Steven said. “Give it to me now.”

Steven’s thoughts had taken a darker turn since the first time he’d seen you, but Jake was too enraptured at that moment to bother listening to him. He switched the silky undergarment to his dominant hand and wrapped it around his cock. Just touching it to his body sent an unbearable tingling through each nerve ending. Jake had never whined like that, it surprised even him. The same thing that touched your cunt, was now touching his cock. It was the closest they had been to feeling you like that.

“You’re gonna ruin it before I can get a shot,” Steven was getting even more antsy, “please bruv, I need it.”

Jake didn’t give a shit if he ruined the panties. In fact, he fully intended to coat your silky underwear in his hot sticky cum. He had no intention of handing the body to Steven. The other alter could sit in the headspace and suffer for all he cared. Just the thought alone was driving Jake mad. He wanted to make sure he could give it his all, so he waited, like before, pausing just before his release. 

He sat there for a moment, breathing heavily through his nostrils, allowing his cock to settle before starting again. He was still hearing Steven shouting, nearly breaking down the walls that separated them. Steven had never been so eager to front, and Jake had to admit it was a struggle to keep him at bay. This wasn’t typical Steven behavior, but you’d changed their dynamic ever since you came into their lives.

Jake was painfully hard again. Precum was trickling over the sides and sticking to the satin fabric. Jake stroked the cloth over himself slowly, sucking in a breath and wrinkling the sheets in his fist. It was slick now, sliding easier. He wondered what you’d done in those panties.

Did you touch yourself? Of course you did. You had to have. He imagined you, arching your back with your fingers plunged deep inside of yourself, squelching your arousal around your digits with every deep drag. You were probably masterful with your hands, knowing exactly how to fuck yourself in a way that made you a panting mess while you came all over your little hands.

“Fuck…mm-princesa…” he was close, so close. “Right there…gonna…ah…”

“Oh, God,” Steven said, taking a deep breath now that he finally had control. He finally felt the sensation of your panties against his cock in full. His entire body rattled the bed frame. “So sweet, oh my…”

Steven clutched the undergarments in both of his shaky hands and brought them to his nostrils, depositing some of his own precum on his lips. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t even worried about grabbing his cock yet, he was so focused on inhaling every bit of you that he could get. It felt like the times Marc drank too much, intoxicating, and leaving Steven’s eyes unable to open beyond halfway.

“So good, never smelled-anything-oh fu-.” Steven’s body quivered. His chest was heaving, each exhale accompanied with a high-pitched whine, “s-so fuckin’…mm-oh.”

Steven thrust his hips hungrily. He stuck out his tongue and dragged it over the crotch of the panties, right where your hole would’ve gone. He whimpered and moaned, feeling his cock pulsate harshly, bobbing against his abdomen. He was coming, covering himself in his hot spend and filling the room with his heavy groans. Steven continued churning his hips upward into nothing, like he was fucking the air.

By the time he came down from his orgasm, the body was spent, tired, and unable to continue after that. Steven fell asleep with your silky black panties on his face.

----

Marc was relieved at first when he thought his solution worked. There was no need to keep stalking you when they had such a perfect piece of you in hand. It was a good solution, until he started losing time again. Marc didn’t realize at first that one of his alters was using the body to take pictures of you while you undressed, showered, and slept. He found the pictures, a couple weeks after they’d stolen your panties, printed out and stuffed in a box under the bed.

“You weren’t supposed to see those,” Steven muttered from the headspace. “Those were just a little thing for Jake and me. Put them back.”

“You guys, what the hell?” Marc’s brow remained furrowed, but his heart rate betrayed him as he shuffled from one photo to the next. “We aren’t supposed to be doing this. This was all supposed to…stop.”

You were simply fucking breathtaking though.

Marc shut his mouth after his breathing turned ragged and suddenly felt so foolish. He stuffed the pictures back in the box and slid it under the bed. He went to the bathroom and got into the shower, desperate to wash away the filthy thoughts coursing through his mind. Jake must’ve been the one to take the pictures, being sneaky as he was. Surely he’d done it behind Marc’s back so he wouldn’t have to hear the scolding.

Marc was right. Jake had gone to your apartment two weeks after they got their first souvenir, after they’d sufficiently caked it in so many layers of cum that it had lost your scent, to get more. When he got there, and snapped the first picture, he wondered to himself why they hadn’t snagged any photos of you before. Surely a picture or two would help them curb this growing desire, right?

Twenty-seven. Jake Lockley took twenty-seven photos of you.

He hid them in the shoebox under the bed, in hopes that he and Steven could enjoy them and keep it from Marc. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep them from Marc, but Jake knew that when he found out, he wouldn’t be happy. He knew what Marc was trying to do, get back to some sense of normalcy for the three of them, and while Jake commended him on his valiant efforts, he couldn’t shake the urges inside.

Marc was still trying to convince himself that they could come back from how far they’d gone. He was letting the hot water run down over his body and trying to tell himself that despite following you for weeks, stealing your underwear, taking pictures of you naked, and killing your date, they could move on, and pretend none of it had happened. No matter how hard he tried though, he kept thinking about you, all the times they’d watched you, and now he had photos.

He could stare at you whenever he wanted; your perfect body, lips, and eyes, all of it was right there for him to look at. He should’ve been scolding his alters for using the body to get them, but he was so enamored by those little treasures they’d gathered now that he was almost grateful they’d done it. He was painfully erect by the time he got out of the shower, resisting every urge to relieve himself to thoughts of you, but he didn’t have the willpower. When it came to you, he never did.

“Marc, you stay away from the one of her lips, that one’s mine,” Steven said firmly.

Marc was too ashamed to even admit to the voices in his head that he was about to jerk off to pictures of you, but he suspected that they knew full well what he intended to do. For once, they were quiet, each waiting to have their turn. Marc used lotion this time, desperate to feel the slick glide of his fingers over his length. He wanted to stroke himself and imagine it was you, soft and wet.

He chose three photos in particular. One of you standing in front of your window, arching your back in profile view. Your perfect breasts had him whining while he dragged over his cock, relishing in the delicious sensation. He knew it probably paled in comparison to how you really felt, but this was as close as he was ever going to get.

The other photo was one of your legs. They must’ve been so close to you to get that picture. Your blankets were off of your body, hanging lazily over the side of the bed. You had worn just underwear and a shirt to sleep. Was that what you normally wore? He hoped so. Your skin looked so soft, so perfect. There was a small peek of your asscheeks sticking out under the hem of the panties. Marc could only think about how badly he wanted to touch you. He let out a choked whine at the thought.

The final image he’d chosen was one of you just out of the shower. He started wondering if you knew you were being watched. Why else would you stand in front of your window like that…

That’s when Marc realized that wasn’t a photo taken from outside…it was taken from inside your apartment. A chill ran over his spine, Jake had been inside your apartment while you were awake, likely tucked away in your closet.

“You guys…” He paused his movements, “you were in her apartment while she was awake?”

“Had to get the perfect angle, pendejo, enjoy it or give up the body so one of us can take over,” Jake said harshly. 

No way Marc was letting that happen. He needed that sweet release. All too often Jake or Steven would come in at the last second and take it from him. He felt his cock twitching against his abdomen, demanding his attention. Marc looked down at it, precum leaking over the sides. The lotion left white streaks all over the shaft. 

He started his smooth motion again, sliding vigorously over the veiny surface. Oh you were so pretty. So perfect in the way you posed for them. Marc tried to tell himself that what they were doing was wrong, but your expressions and posture confused him, almost like you wanted to be seen; like you wanted them to want you, to take those pictures of you. Whether it was true or not, it was working. 

They wanted you, more than anything.

Marc had the pictures spread over the top of the dresser. He grabbed the edge of the stained wood while he continued working on himself, filling the apartment with squelching wet noises. He lurched forward when the heat pooled in his abdomen, gasping a sharp breath while he felt his cock stiffen in his smooth palm. In a mad rush, he grabbed some tissues out of the box on the dresser and spilled into them with a flurry of deep groans.

Jake followed suit, once their short refractory period ran its course, grabbing his images of choice to chase his own release. He loved looking at you too, every curve of your body spoke to his deepest desires. He wanted to feel your skin grow hot from his gloved hand, striking you in an effort to make you more pliant. Your rear could take it, so round and soft, he could imagine the feeling of it under his firm grip.

When Jake was finished his turn, Steven came out like an animal in heat, scrambling with shaky hands for a picture they took of your lips. You’d been sound asleep when they took that photo. He didn’t want to admit it, but Steven did all he could not to thrust himself down your throat while you slept. He was sure you would’ve liked it, the way they tasted, but he also thought it may be a little too bold. If they were going to have some time with you, he was going to have to be more clever than that.

Steven’s precum was lubricating enough for him to run his cock along the glossy sheen of the photo, right against your lips. He imagined how it would feel, seeing them, stretched out around his girth. He thought even more about how good it would feel to have your throat contract when you gagged on his length. It took no time at all for him to turn into a mess of crying moans while coating the photo in his spend.

----

“S’not enough Marc, we need more,” Steven muttered while they stood outside of your apartment window once again.

You’d just gone to bed, this time leaving your blinds open like you did on occasion when the nights were warm. The soft rise and fall of your chest could be seen even at a distance. Marc felt his brow begin to sweat in anticipation. He didn’t want to do what Jake and Steven had done to get those pictures, sneak into your apartment with you inside, but he’d started to think that maybe if they achieved that delicious release in such close proximity to your body, they could move on. There was still a small part of him that believed they could move on, despite everything they’d done.

“This is so fucked up,” Marc said, taking a step closer to your window.

“Need me to do it?” Jake asked, itching to get out.

“Stop, I can do it…I just…” Marc growled, feeling the frustration of conflict inside his mind.

He paused, gulping and staring at you while you slept. His feet were frozen before finally he…

Marc blacked out, and hours later he was in their own house with a balled up and sticky pair of your panties in his hand, unable to recall what had happened. Marc hadn’t been to the house in a long time. Usually they stayed in Steven’s apartment. It was so close to his job, before he’d quit, and even closer to the crimes and villains that they had put off fighting since finding you.

Steven would remember how the night was spent though, he’d remember it for the rest of his life.

He had snuck in through your window with Jake’s encouraging words, and found himself standing at your bedside. They’d learned your sleeping patterns so well by then, knowing exactly when you were fast asleep based on the way you breathed. Steven wiped some excess saliva that had dribbled down his chin. Since it was warm that night you’d worn a tanktop and shorts to bed. He could see the roundness of your asscheeks peeking out from the hem of your bottoms.

“Quiero tocar,” Jake said in a dark tone from inside the headspace.

“We can’t touch…not yet,” Steven said in a low whisper.

He fumbled with his belt, careful not to let it clank too loudly as he undid it and then worked on his zipper. You shifted a little, but he knew you were still dreaming. He wondered if you were dreaming about him, or one of the other two. He still remembered how you looked at them that day at the museum, and he still felt like something in your eyes spelled love to him. 

Putting the excess spit that had once again accumulated in his mouth to good use, Steven dropped a glob down onto his cock. You continued breathing quietly, your sweet little voice falling over his ears like honey. He wanted you, he wanted you so bad. He could be quick, he knew he could, sliding into the bed with you, fucking you while you slept. If they were careful, surely you wouldn’t wake, right? Or, even better, you might wake up and find that you enjoyed it just as much as they did.

“I wanna fuck her.” Steven whispered suddenly, surprising even himself with the crass statement.

“Can’t risk it Steven, just leave her a little present on her legs compadre.”

“Yeah, yeah on her legs. Aces.” He agreed, excited by the prospect of their cum being on you.

He had to stroke fairly slow, trying not to fill your apartment with the loud wet slaps of him jerking off to your sleeping form. He focused on the apex of your thighs, right where he knew your tight little pussy was hiding. He imagined how wet you would be if only you let him have you. You’d be a mess, soaking and dripping down the sides of his cock.

“She’s such a pretty little princesa; bet that cunt is like heaven, I’d love a little taste.” Jake was getting more and more restless as Steven approached his climax.

“Jake, please, let me…”

He couldn’t resist, needing to feel the high that came with shooting spurts of cum all over the backs of your thighs. Jake came to the front, just in time to feel that mind-numbing euphoria that Steven worked so hard to achieve. He tried to make it up to Steven by bringing home a fresh and silky souvenir, the same one that Marc fronted with now in his hands, after Steven got to them first of course.

When you woke up in the morning, you would be puzzled trying to figure out what the sticky substance was on your bedding and thighs, but you wouldn’t ever know for sure.

----

“I told you, Jake, I’m not okay with this. We can’t do it. This is wrong!” Marc was shouting from the headspace.

“Shut the fuck up, pendejo. We’ve tried it your way, now we do it my way.” Jake pried open your window slowly. “Sick of not being able to think straight.”

“Jake please, please, please let me out. Please.” Steven begged.

Jake was trying to keep Steven at bay, but he knew the other alter was going to get himself to the front one way or another. 

“At least let me get us inside, then you can have the body.” Jake stopped before climbing indoors, “if you fuck this up for us…”

“Don’t worry bruv, m’not going to mess it up, promise.” Steven assured him.

Jake was inside within seconds, and the moment his feet touched the ground, Steven forced his way to the front. He was more than ready to finally show you the love they’d kept pent up all that time. He quickly, and silently, toed off Jake’s shoes, and pulled off the gloves too. If Jake wanted those, he could put them back on later. It was going to be a long night, and they intended to stay a while.

He took off the jacket as well and placed it on the floor. Steven loosened up the tie, allowing the fabric to hang lazily around his neck. You were so sound asleep, breathing deeply while you dreamt. Steven’s cock was already leaking a small spot into the seam of Jake’s pants in anticipation of feeling your pussy walls surrounding his cock. He took them off quickly, stepping out of them silently.

You turned in your sleep, but your eyes stayed closed. You were so pretty, so precious just laying there without a clue. Steven clutched his chest, finding it difficult to breathe properly. Despite the nearly painful ache of his erection, he took a moment just to revel in your beauty, taking in the breathtaking way the sheets hugged your curves. Your lips were pursed, brow furrowed while you dreamt.

So fucking pretty, he thought.

“Steven, if you’re gonna do it, then just get it over with,” Marc said in a grumble. While the original was deeply bothered by their actions, he knew stopping him was impossible.

Steven walked around to the other side of the bed, and grabbed the sheet. Cautiously, he got under the covers, careful not to shift the weight too much and startle you. If he alerted you too soon, it would all be over. Steven was, once again, grateful you were such a heavy sleeper. It had proven to be helpful for them each time they’d needed to traverse your apartment in the night.

He hooked a finger in the waist of your shorts and dragged them down to your thigh. There was a small shift in your body, but your breathing remained the same, steady pace. Your skin was softer than he’d imagined. Just the light drag of his finger over the surface made his body spark with excitement. He felt himself salivating. Steven wanted nothing more than to lick and kiss your exposed shoulder, but he held back for now.

Steven brought a mess of spit down to slick his cock. He bit his lip while he ran his fingers over the length of it. The thought that he was about to finally feel you from the inside almost made him want to scream. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive. He brought an arm to hover over your side carefully, and started sneaking the other under your head. He was ready to move quickly if you resisted, though he hoped you wouldn’t; he hoped that you would wake and realize how good Steven was fucking you and that you’d lean into it a little.

As Steven’s large hand closed over your lips, and his other arm caged your body against his, squeezing tightly, you stirred awake.

“Sh sh sh, love. Shhh.” He urged, holding on tight as your little body squirmed against his chest.

You immediately started to whimper, fighting and breathing heavily, trying desperately to break free, but Steven was too strong. You screamed uselessly into his fingers. You wiggled your rear against him, feeling the jab of his cock against you. It was hard to believe this was happening, this couldn’t be real. Someone had snuck into your apartment and was about to-

Steven pushed his cock between your thighs, rutting hungrily until he found your entrance. He stopped there, feeling the wet slick of your heat coating his throbbing girth.

“You ready, love? Been waiting for this a long time, been waiting to feel you.” His voice was low against your ear.

You shook your head as best as you could and tried screaming again, but no one would hear you. The feeling of his cock against your folds alone was enough to drive him crazy. The fact that you were so wet let Steven know just how eager you were for this too, you just didn’t realize it yet.

“Oh God, love, you feel so good already.” He felt your warm tears hitting his fingers. “Yeah, I’m excited too, just one…second…”

He let out a deep groaning sigh as he stretched you out, gliding his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh that’s it, love, oh this is better than I dreamed. Can’t wait to finally fill you up darling, you’re going to like it so much. Gonna-you’re gonna-ohh-want to give you all of it.” He was pumping in and out of you slowly, struggling to form a coherent sentence in the process.

To say it felt good to him was an understatement. Steven’s hips stuttered as he pushed full to the hilt once more. He felt your walls flutter around him. He knew you liked it, too. He wondered why they hadn’t done it sooner.

“Oh my…shit…” He thrusted, splitting your hole wide over and over. “Those pretty little sounds you make, been think–oh fuck…been thinkin’ ‘bout them. Never thought they’d sound so-”

It hurt, being stretched out like that, never having felt anyone that big before. You were so afraid, unable to move your arms. The more you shifted against him, the harder he squeezed. It got to a point where you worried he might crush you if you continued. His lips pressed against your neck in sloppy wet kisses, and he kept groaning about how much he loved you in your ear.

“Feel you gettin’ so wet.” He let out a sharp exhale, “knew you’d like me darling, knew you’d be good f’me.”

Steven kissed your shoulder, nipping at the skin and savoring the way it tasted on his tongue. You were delicious in every sense of the word. He could feel you stop fighting him, and he took that as a sign of compliance, of submission. Steven knew deep down that you’d liked them, he knew it.

“Won’t hurt much longer, not once you’re used t’me. God you’re so pretty, feel so good. Can’t believe I’m finally touching you.” He started thrusting his hips harder, dragging the head along your walls. “Thank you love, thank you for being such a good girl f’me.”

You were hiccuping from sobbing so hard. Your cries only encouraged Steven though, he thought you sounded so sweet like that, so innocent and precious. When you felt the unmistakable wave taking over your body, the one that contradicted your emotional feelings, you gasped, pressing your spine against his chest. It felt good, so good that you thought you might cry harder should he stop.

“Doesn’t that feel good, love? You’re squeezing me so tight I…oh shit…not gonna last much longer if you keep that up, yeah?” Steven felt your walls contracting over him harder now, telling him you must be close. “Are you going to let yourself go for me?”

Steven’s movements were relentless. Your bed scraped against the floor a little as he fucked even harder. He started thinking about how much he wanted to keep you, have you around to pleasure himself with any time he started to feel the need. Surely you’d like that too, of course you’d love when Steven made you feel good…right? He would always make sure you got your release too, every time, so long as he could help it.

“I’m gonna make sure you feel good darling, want you to feel good.” He was getting close, pulling your body closer as his orgasm approached, “and you know when I’m done, Jake is gonna come in here and mark you up, yeah? Make sure you remember that you’re ours now.”

You panicked, realizing what that meant…he had a friend there too, also intent on taking you for himself. Your breathing became short, and you squirmed again. Steven’s cock thrust into you harder when you did.

“Sh, sh, love, shh, stop.” He didn’t want to hurt you. In fact, Steven wouldn’t hurt you, but he couldn’t speak for Jake. “I don’t want you to get hurt, yeah? Better stop that now.”

You let yourself fall limp, accepting your fate finally as his assault on your cunt continued. You really were wet now, pussy squelching every time the man rutted into you, hips pressing flush against your rear. Steven felt himself overwhelmed with pleasure as his orgasm approached.

He was talking so fast, "I'm not going to pull out love, want to make sure I show you how much I love you. Wanna get you nice and full of me–so full. Would you like that?” He groaned into your shoulder, “yeah, ‘course you would. Oh here we go–here we go love–ahhh!” His hips stopped suddenly, pressed up against your body while his cock pulsated hot ropes inside of you. “Thankyou--thankyou--thankyou love, oh God thank you.”

You couldn’t stop the wave that came over you, pooling heat in your center and forcing your body to tremble against him.

“That’s it love, can feel you coming, too. Oh you’re squeezing me so hard.”

You couldn’t believe you’d started coming so violently at the hands of your assailant, despite your best efforts not to. You couldn’t help the physical response your body had to him though. He made you so wet, made your body spark with need. He felt so good, he was so intent on making sure you felt something too.

The switch happened without your realizing, and suddenly Jake lay there while his cock grew soft inside of you. Steven was sated, finished with you for the time being. He knew that he had to get you into a different position, or you’d try to run. Being crafty as he was, Jake planned for that, and brought something along to keep you silent. A cloth doused in chloroform, pulled from his breast pocket, sure to keep you pliant. He covered your face in the cloth, and you tried to struggle again, but this time fell limp against your will.

It was an hour before you woke up again. Jake was standing in front of you. He had his arms crossed over his chest, shirt open with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and gloves on. He was naked otherwise though. Your eyes seemed to sparkle as they opened slowly, meeting his hooded gaze. You tried to move, but your hands were tied to your bedpost. You opened your mouth to yell, but the man in front of you held up a finger.

“Here’s how this is going to go princesa...” He spoke just above a whisper.

Jake had a gun he’d placed on your dresser. He picked it up and cocked it in his hand. Of course it wasn’t loaded, he would never hurt you, but he needed you to behave. He smirked at the little hiccup you made at the sound of his weapon readying for fire. You noticed now, the distinct difference in his accent, this was someone else. The guy from before really did bring a friend with him.

“P-please I–”

“Sh.” Jake put a gloved finger to his lips once more. “I’m going to let you suck my cock sweetheart, and I know you’re going to do a great job. As long as you’re a good little girl for me, I won’t hurt you too bad when I’m done, alright? Maybe I’ll even let you come.”

“Why are you–why are you…” You sobbed, unable to speak the words on the tip of your tongue.

“Come on, no more talking,” He said in a low tone, “remember, if you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you, bebita.” Jake’s cock was leaking at the head, dripping onto the floor as he approached you. “If you want to misbehave, I’ll have to get rough, and I don’t wanna do that to you.”

You were so small, a petite little thing. You looked at his cock wide-eyed, fearing you wouldn’t be able to fit the whole thing in your mouth. It was big, thick and long. You gulped harshly, feeling terror wash over you even more. He’d said he didn’t want to hurt you, but what exactly did that mean? You were sure you didn’t want to find out.

Seeing you struggle to stretch your lips over his thick cock brought him more pleasure than he imagined it would. He couldn’t even get it all the way in your throat, but he didn’t need to, it felt so good without needing to go deeper. Your tongue splayed against the underside of his length made him thrust forward from the sensation, gagging you in the process. Your teeth grazed the shaft.

“Ay!” The cold barrel of the gun pressed against your temple forcing a gasping sob from you, “watch it, cariño.”

You did your best to get your lips over your teeth, even if only a little. Jake’s free hand rested on the back of your neck while he forced himself deeper. The feeling of your throat contracting over his cock made his head fall back. He groaned, voice sounding wrecked and feral with each plunge further into your throat.

It hurt, the way his girth threatened to stretch open your esophagus beyond its threshold. You whined, willing your lips to keep your mouth smooth for him, but you felt them struggling. For the second time, you touched his cock with your teeth, and for a second time, he winced and pressed his gun against your head even harder.

“Oh, I really don’t want to hurt you sweetheart, but I will.” His tone was dark and threatening.

“You better not hurt her Jake.” Steven said from the headspace.

You were a sobbing mess, so much that you pulled your head back off his thick and throbbing shaft. Saliva connected his cock to your glossy lips, and forced a sneer over his face. He knelt down on both knees, leaning in to meet your eye.

“Oh, princesa, you’re not very good at following directions, are you?” His smirk never faded, as though he were taunting you.

If you weren’t so cute with your swollen, glistening lips, and tear stained cheeks, he might feel less merciful. He was ready to see you come undone, after so much time spent waiting, only admiring you from a distance. Jake wanted to fuck you so hard your throat was bleeding from the shrill screams escaping your mouth.

“Don’t worry, we’ll teach you…another time.”

He grabbed your hip in his left hand and shifted your ass to rest between his thighs. The gun was still in his other hand, pressing against your waist, leaving an indent in your flesh. He could see how clearly afraid you were. Nothing looked more attractive to him than you being absolutely terrified of what he might do to you.

“Fight me, and you know what will happen, princesa. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy when all I’ve asked is for you to behave. Can you be good for me now?” He lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. “Hm?”

You nodded, “y-yes.”

You were too afraid to say no.

He thrust into you, and once again, the same body was fucking you open. Jake nearly fell forward, feeling you for the first time. It was like his cock was coated in smooth, silky velvet. This wasn’t the first time he’d been with a woman, but this was better than anything he’d ever felt before, because it was you.

“Fuck, princesa, you’re so tight.” He grunted through gritted teeth as he pulled back and then thrust forward again. He moved the gun to your chin, pressing it against your jaw harshly, “I want you to tell me how sorry you are for not following my very-simple-instructions.”

“Oh! No, please!” You rattled the bed, struggling against the silken tie Jake had used to bind your hands. “Please, no!”

Jake lost concentration when your cunt fluttered around him. It was almost as though you were enjoying his threats. He fucked into you harder, groaning out a slur of feral moans. He brought the barrel of the weapon down your abdomen and touched it over your clit. A sharp gasp escaped you at the icy sensation. You whimpered, feeling even more fresh tears trickling over your cheeks.

“I wanna hear you tell me how–fuck–how sorry you are, now!” His brows were knitted together tightly, eyes dark and forceful.

An unmistakable, and to you shameful, moan left your lips. The way he moved the metal barrel against your cunt sparked pleasure through your core. He heard it, clear as day. He knew he’d break you, one way or another. There was still a long way to go before you were fully theirs, but this was a good first lesson. You were already starting to learn that he was capable of giving you what you needed, if only you did what he asked.

“S-sorry! I’m sor–oh god–so sorry!” You squeezed your eyes shut, “please don’t kill me, I’m sorry please.”

“Mm, buena niña.” He cooed, voice sounding wrecked with his growing arousal. 

He reveled in the way your walls squeezed over him when he swirled the gun around your clit. He let out a snicker, lips curling at the sides. You felt your arms becoming sore from the pressure of the tie around your wrists, but the ache was dulled by the pleasure traveling all over your body. 

“I want you to look at me, and say, ‘I’m sorry Jake,’ now.”

He looked down and spit harshly on the gun, letting the saliva trickle down over your clit, allowing the weapon to slide around it easier. Seeing you squirm under the feeling of his gun while it teased that swollen little nub made his cock throb inside of you. When he looked back up at you, you were looking back. He loved to see your bottom lip quivering while you tried to talk but fell short of the words.

“Come on, I know you can do it for me.” He urged gently.

You were ashamed to find yourself a stuttering mess trying to talk to him, not out of fear or for being upset, but because you felt so fucking good. Your mind was screaming, telling you to fight, to do anything other than lay there and take it, but your body was doing quite the opposite.

He knew the effect he was having on you. Jake could see the way your eyes fought not to roll back into your skull while pleasure overcame you; He could see the way your lips stammered over themselves trying to get the words he demanded out; Most of all, he felt the way the soft walls of your pussy moved in waves over his cock, reacting every time he slid the barrel of his gun over your clit.

“I-I…”

You didn’t want to say it, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Go on princesa…you don’t want me to pull this trigger now, do you?”

“I’m s-so sorry J-Jake!” You managed to choke out.

His cock unmistakably twitched inside of you at the sound of hearing you say those words.

“Mm, now was that so hard? You sound so good, bebita. I knew you could behave yourself for me.” He churned forward faster, the hand on your hip was nearly bruising. “Now you’re going to relax, and you’re gonna come for me, si? No fighting back now…”

“Please let me go!” You sobbed more, filling your apartment with more desperate cries.

Unfortunately for you, the sound of your whimpers only seemed to encourage him further. Jake looked down. Beneath the gun he could see the way your pussy looked splitting over his girth. It was so slick and puffy from the way he and Steven had fucked and resized you.

“I’m almost done sweetheart, and when I’m done, Marc is gonna come in and you’re gonna be a good girl for him too, right?”

No, not another one, you thought.

Out of fear that he might threaten you again though if you didn’t comply, you nodded. As you felt your orgasm threatening to wash over you, out of your control, you felt shame mix like a poisonous cocktail with the pleasure. You turned your head away, tucking it into your arm, trying to hide your humiliation.

Jake wasn’t going to have that though. He wanted to look at your beautiful face while he made your mind go numb and body tense around him. He wanted to see you as you became so fucked out you could hardly keep your body upright anymore. You were seconds from unraveling at his hand, and he wasn’t going to miss a single expression on your pretty face.

“Come on, princesa, don’t hide that from me now, gotta see how precious you look when I make you come undone.” He cooed, changing the way he rotated the barrel over you ever so slightly. “You know the stakes.”

You bit your bottom lip to stop it from shaking as you turned your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were so dark, brows so tightly stuck together. He looked down to watch your hole swallow him again and again before turning back up to see your eyes.

It was happening to you again, you were coming over the cock of your second assailant that night. You did as you were told, keeping your eyes on his while you bit your lip a little too hard and clenched your walls around him. His lids dropped and his brows relaxed just before you felt the searing hot spurts of his spend filling you to the brim.

He fucked you through it, pushing it all into you, mixing it with what still remained of Steven inside you. Once he felt he was fully finished, having stretched and fucked you to his satisfaction, he pulled out. You felt empty, finally, but your cunt was gaping, letting his cum dribble out onto the hardwood floor beneath you.

“Now princesa…I want you to say ‘thank you, Jake’.” He wiped the glossy spit that had accumulated on his lips.

“T-thank you, J-Jake.” You sniffled, and closed your legs together as he sat back from you.

“You’re learning so well already. My smart bebita.” He looked genuinely proud of you, a spark lit in your gut against your will. You ignored it. “Marc is going to be here soon, and when he comes in, heh, he’s going to spoil you rotten. Just always remember that I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t turn into a little brat, okay?”

You nodded in understanding.

“Good.” He tossed the gun aside, forcing you to flinch. “I’m never going to do anything to really hurt you princesa, okay?”

You gulped and nodded, “yes.”

“Okay, just need you to sleep for a while, I’ll see you again soon.” He pressed his lips into a hard line while he wrapped his gloved hands around your petite throat.

“N-no what…!”

You squirmed while he choked you, feeling the desperation in your body while you struggled to get air in your lungs. Jake’s hands were so big around your delicate throat. Steven and Marc both were hollering at him to go easy on you, but they both knew that Jake knew what he was doing. That didn’t stop Marc from taking over and letting go of you immediately. You had already fainted, but that was ok, he needed time to get himself prepared to have you himself.

----

When your eyes finally fluttered open again, you were shocked to see the same man from before staring back at you. You were sure he’d mentioned a third person coming in to have their way with you, but here he was, still staring back.

“You’re awake, good.” Marc said, brows drawn together tightly with concern. 

“I thought…I thought there was someone–s-someone else.” You were still fatigued from tears, and speaking was proving to be difficult.

“That was my…” He didn’t want to tell you about his condition just yet, “brother.”

You were sucking your bottom lip in with your sobbing. You turned your head into your arm which hurt beyond belief. Having your shoulders in that position for an extended period of time had proved excruciating.

Marc couldn’t believe they’d come this far. Steven and Jake had both had their turn, and now it was his, but he intended to do things a little differently. He wasn’t going to take from you, not yet anyway, but he was going to give you something. Marc wanted to make you love him, from deep within yourself, to make you feel the same way about him that he felt for you.

He knelt down at your side, you instinctively pulled your knees up to your chest, looking at him pleadingly. Your eyes darted behind him. The gun the other man had used was shining in the moonlight. You closed your eyes tightly, sending a couple of stray tears shooting down your cheeks. Marc reached over and swiped a tear away with his thumb, letting his hand rest on your face softly.

“If you’re good for me, I’ll be able to help you, okay baby?” He looked into your eyes with nothing but love and adoration.

You didn’t understand why they were doing this still, but something about this one made you feel more safe than the other two. You didn’t say a word, you didn’t even nod, you just wanted to be alone now, you felt so tired, so weak.

Marc thought he could see you soften, so he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, but you didn’t return the gesture. He put his lips together tightly as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours. He was trying so hard not to feel frustrated. It was going to take time to get you to understand what an asset he was going to be for you. Marc brushed your cheek as he looked between your glistening eyes.

“I can’t help you if you don’t behave.” He spoke firmly.

Marc could tell you still weren’t going to return his affections, but knew you’d learn with time. He thought that maybe if he could make you softer, more pliant in his hands, you might come around. His hand left your face, brushing over the soft skin of your neck - to which you winced from Jake’s earlier assault - tracing down your breasts and peaked nipple, and finally resting over the tightly closed apex of your thighs. You squeezed your legs together even more.

“Come on honey, let me in.” He said just over a whisper.

“P-please don’t.” You begged, hiccuping again as more sobs forced their way through you.

“I just want to find a way to make you feel good, will you let me do that? Please?”

You were prolonging the inevitable. He was going to find his way to your cunt whether you let him or not, so you decided to slowly open your legs. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and an unmistakable grin crept over his face. You were opening up for him, letting him bring his fingers down to rest between your lips. A small breath of arousal slipped out of you.

“How’s that?” He had a mildly arrogant tone. “That feel good?”

You groaned despite yourself, hating that they’d all managed to find a way to make you feel so fucking good. You felt nothing but shame for the way you arched up into his touch. The pads on his fingers spread out, splitting your slick folds. He touched your entrance, forcing a pained wince from you.

“Oh no baby, I’m sorry, they really stretched you out, didn’t they? Don’t worry, I’ll give your little hole a break alright?” Marc reached his free hand up to cup your cheek and keep your forehead on his. “I know you’ll make it up to me.”

Your clit was coated in your juices and theirs, making it easy for him to slide his digits in small, rhythmic circles over it. He could tell from the way you were squirming that he was doing it right. Your sobs stopped and instead you were just moaning quietly now. Your eyes closed, but he wanted to see them.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.”

You kept them closed tight.

“Please don’t make me beg, I need you to listen to what I tell you. I can give you what you need, and I can protect you, but I need you to be good for me, please.” He leaned in and tried kissing you again, but once more you denied him. “Come on, let me kiss you, don’t fight me.”

You were shocked at the juxtaposition between his demeanor and his brother’s. He was so gentle in the way he touched you, like his only goal was to make you feel good, as if his own pleasure was secondary to yours. 

And for Marc it was. He knew that if all three of them were rough with you, they'd never get you to feel the same way about them as they did about you.

“Tell me how that feels baby, come on, use your words for me.”

“It f-feels-” You groaned deeply, angling your hips upward into his touch. “No, I don’t want this.” You shook your head, tucking your face into your arm opposite his face.

"Don't make this more difficult, I can make your time with us like a dream if you just give in to me." He continued to hope you would loosen a little, let yourself feel how he touched you. “Let me try something, okay?”

Marc kissed your cheek, slowly brushed his lips down your tender neck, left another on your collarbone, before cupping the swell of your breast and bringing your nipple to his mouth. His lips pursed around it. A small shudder quaked through your body, letting him know that what he did was working.

He couldn’t handle the ache any longer between his own legs. His cock was leaking profusely, and he needed to satisfy his own urges. He was going to keep his word though, he had no intention of penetrating you that night. Marc was able to brush his length along the soft skin of your thigh, making it slick with his precum and allowing it to slide easier.

He moaned over your nipple before flicking it with his tongue. You were churning your hips upward in rhythm with the repetitive swirl of his fingers. Marc couldn’t begin to express with words the way it made him feel to know you were using him to please yourself. He couldn’t have asked for a better outcome after their actions that night.

“Now tell me how it feels, please baby, tell me how well I take care of you.”

Marc didn’t stop dragging his cock over your leg, moaning incessantly while he did. You were crying again, feeling nothing but shame and fatigue while your third orgasm of the night approached. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him how good he felt, but he wasn’t going to stop asking.

Marc looked up at you, brows raised and drawn together, pleading for you to tell him how he made you feel. Why was this one so different than the other two? The first one was so hungry, desperate and needy. The second was plain cruel. This one was so focused on you, wanting nothing more than to make sure you were okay; it was more confusing than anything.

“Let me go, please.” You begged, “p-please.”

“Can’t do that, don’t ask me that again, baby. I wish I could, but we’ve come too far now.” Marc brought himself back up to you, his hard cock rested against your abdomen now. It felt so heavy. “That’s why I’m trying to meet you halfway. I’ll take good care of you, but you have to be good for me, too.”

His face was close to yours again. You felt him churning against you, sliding his cock against your waist faster as his climax closed in. You could tell by the way it got harder, and swelled against you that he was desperately close. For the third time that night, you were close too, his fingers worked against you, forcing soft gasps from your lips.

“I’m gonna come for you honey, gonna cover you in it. You gonna cover me, too? Soak my hand in your-f-fuck.”

You felt something pool in your stomach, while he touched you. You couldn’t tell him that he made you feel good, but you could show him in the way he wanted. The thought of kissing him was repulsive, but if he was going to be your sole protector, then you needed to give him what he asked for. He was being so kind now, but you feared for what he might do if you didn’t give him his way.

You leaned in and slotted your mouth over his. Marc couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him. He could hear the other two muttering around in the headspace excitedly. Your lips were soft, delicious, and Marc wanted more. He slipped his tongue over your bottom lip before entangling it with yours in your mouth. His fingers worked faster, flicking over your clit while you were feeding him desperate cries.

He could tell immediately when you were coming because your entire body arched toward him, as though you wanted him to devour you whole. Your moans of deep pleasure were enough to inspire his own orgasm. His hips bucked forward harshly, rubbing over your skin while he coated your stomach and tits in his cum. He groaned with every thrust, and his body trembled when he slowed, eventually stilling altogether. His lips broke apart from yours with a soft smack. Marc’s eyes were deep and hooded while he looked into yours.

“Thank you for being so good for me, baby.” He pecked your forehead softly.

Marc knew they needed to knock you out again, and so he got up and started looking for the towel. The chloroform laced cloth would still work just fine. He would talk to Jake later about leaving such harsh bruises on you needlessly when he had the chance.

“What’s going to happen now?” You asked with a choked whimper, looking up at Marc.

“We’re going to take you home.” Marc said, kneeling down with the towel in hand. “Just take a deep breath, you’ll be alright, I promise.”

The last thing you saw before everything went black was his dark eyes on yours. 

----

You felt your eyes burn with the sun piercing through your window. You took in a deep breath through your nostrils trying desperately to open them, wondering if everything that had happened last night was just a dream. It felt like you were in bed, warm blankets pulled up to your chin. Finally, your eyes came into focus and you took in your surroundings.

You sat up fast, realizing immediately that you weren’t home at all. In fact, you had no idea where you were. The room you found yourself in was clean with stark white walls and bedding, but the bars on the windows let you know that it wasn’t as nice as it first appeared. The door on the far end of the room buzzed before you heard an electronic latch open it.

He walked in, one of the three men who had had their way with you the night before. He gave you a soft and toothy grin. He put a hand up to greet you, he didn’t look as though he dared to come near the bed.

“Hi there, we haven’t met properly.” You noticed now that he looked nervous, though you couldn’t imagine why, he clearly had all the power in that moment. “I’m Steven. I thought I should introduce m’self. Figured since…well…since I came in behind you and all, you hadn’t really seen me yet.”

Except you had seen his face before. You’d seen it two other times that night. Once on Jake, and once more with the one named Marc. So this one was Steven. You’d been kidnapped by three brothers. 

“Where am I?” You asked timidly, realizing that your throat still ached from the choking and stretching you’d endured earlier.

He walked toward you slowly. Already, you could see the nagging press of his cock against the seam of his pants. He looked at you like he was ready to devour you the moment he got his hands on you. Steven bit his lip.

“Darling…you’re home.”

----

Next Part (Coming Soon)

----

Thank you for the request @burnincrown!

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[quinnyundertow]

Picking up the Pieces

Chapter 2

What we Lost

Choso x Reader

Chapter 1

THERE WILL BE MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

Summary: The fight with Sukuna has finally ended. Before he’s wisked off the battlefield the boy named Yuji begs you to try and save what’s left of his older brother.

TW Extreme disabilities, hospital setting, amputation.

AN: Writing this fic so far has been incredibly cathartic. I’ve found writing to be incredibly difficult since my back surgery. At first I thought it was the heavy duty pain killers and meds fogging my mind. Maybe it was. Now I’m just depressed. In the blink of an eye I went from no disability to unable to drive and using a walker to get around. Even then the pain is extreme. Thankfully my body is not as wounded as Choso’s is in this. Choso will not regain his limbs or full function in this story. But that doesn’t mean he can’t have a happy ending. Choso will have disabilities moving forward but that doesn’t mean he’s something broken that needs to be fixed. He still has value despite his physical limitations. I’m trying to convince myself that I do too.

Chapter 2

What we lost

All he could feel was pain. He had never experienced a sensation like this before. Wave upon wave of raw agony rolled over him. There’s this screeching mechanical noise blaring near him. Muffled voices are discussing something but it’s like all the sounds are under water. He’s trying to focus his blood manipulation ability to assess the damage to himself but something is terribly wrong. It’s like trying to grasp threads of information in a typhoon. The capabilities he used to summon with barely a thought before are slipping through his fingers. He can’t tell the extent of the damage Sukuna left but he knows this is a very bad sign. The pain has him gritting his teeth and straining his exhausted muscles.

Is this how his brothers felt before they died? Kechizu and Eso? Hell, even Yuji when he had practically killed him in that bathroom in Shibuya. Yuji. Had he been able to save Yuji? He thinks he did, hopes with every fiber of his being he did. If he failed, he hopes to die sooner rather than later. He tries to open his eyes but they’re too heavy. A racking wet cough bubbles out of his mouth to form the words to ask the only thing that matters, “Yuji?”

Someone is responding but he can’t make out the words. A small soft hand takes his own. It’s not Yuji. It reassures some part of him all the same. It feels like a life preserver has been thrown into the roiling ocean around him. Sudden relief from pain.

Time passes in a state between waking and dreams. He can tell when Yuji visits. His hand is large and calloused on his own. Yuji’s distressed. He knows he’s the reason and he hates it. Blood pressure rising as he’s struggling to open his eyes. Hands are on his shoulders as he seizes violently. Those small delicate hands are on one side and Yuji’s on the other. That familiar flow of pain relief pulls him under.

~~

Yuji Itadori has been through so much at this point yet he’s still smiling. It’s an exhausted, stressed out smile but a smile all the same. You feel cripplingly guilty. You may have kept Choso alive but the state he’s in is barely human. Er, curse. An existence at all.

“I can’t thank you enough for watching over him.” Yuji’s voice is sincere as he bows his head. You hate that he’s thanking you. Yuji has been at the hospital on campus more than he’s been home. Everyone he loves, still alive, is here in some capacity after all. Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki have their own rooms but they tend to gravitate towards one another and stay in Megumi’s room. Much to Megumi’s pretend chagrin.

Your voice is heavy with exhaustion, “It’s the least I can do.” You haven’t left the hospital in the week since Sukuna was destroyed. Neither has Shoko nor Nitta. There are so many injured people. Every few hours someone codes. Heart stopping, lungs failing. You three manage to bring them back but it’s taking everything you have. You’ve never felt so helpless. You know Shoko and Nitta feel it too. When your eyes meet each other in the hall as you pass. Grim expressions rather than greetings.

Yuji scratches the back of his neck; a gesture you’ve come to learn means he’s not sure what else to do with them. “Please don’t diminish what you’re doing.” He pauses to look back in the room where Choso is sleeping fitfully. “He’s calmer when you're close.”

You give a tired chuckle, “I’m a walking painkiller. Can you blame him?”

Yuji tilts his head as if considering your words. He looks like he wants to say more but words fail him. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go check on Fushiguro.”

You nod, “Of course.” Yuji’s low bow before he leaves seems excessive. This is the boy who saved all of Japan after all. You sigh. Yuji doesn’t see the situation the same way. He sees it as him failing to protect all of Japan. You duck behind the curtain pulled around Choso’s bedside and sink into the chair beside him.

Choso looks like he was chewed up and spit out again by a meat grinder. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration; but not by much.

You had managed to nap for about an hour the ate some food Yuji had brought up alongside fresh flowers for the room. That was enough to give yourself a little more cursed energy to expend. You are trying to improve his quality of life while keeping him drugged up so he’s not in excruciating pain. Even with all your advanced pain relieving jutsus he moans for hours on end. Throat so raw he coughs up blood.

You place your fingers right behind his ears near his jaw. His right eardrum is just about healed. He should be able to hear something at least. The left ear is irreparable. Well technically it’s not the ear. Shoko said it’s the nerves from the brain to his ear that were destroyed. He has a gnarly scar on the back of his head. His dark locks will hide it in time. That’s probably the least of his worries.

You pick up his medical chart and jot down some notes. There’s a human figure at the bottom of the page. The figure shows front and back with notes on all injuries. You had to start numbering the locations because it was too much to write in the area provided.

“Left cranium injury, loss of hearing and sight to left eye. Severe burns to the inside of the throat and lungs from breathing in super heated air. Six broken ribs, right lung punctured, arms with severe burns from the elbow down. Right hand missing pinky and index finger. Left hand and forearm required amputation.” You can’t read anymore. Needless to say nothing survived below the knees.

When he’s up moaning in pain all night you wish you never would have tried to help him. He probably would beg you to let him die if he could manage it.

You stroke the right side of his forehead gently. He remarkably hasn’t had a fever today. He’s gradually improving. Shoko says he’s out of the woods now. He won’t die but he can’t regrow any of the pieces missing either.

Tracing his brow you hope the light sensation brings the tiniest bit of comfort. You’re terrified he’ll hate you when he wakes up and registers his condition. The only thing proving he’s aware of anything is he cries out for Yuji intermittently only to stop when Yuji or you hold his hand. What’s left of it. You hesitated at first to put any pressure on his hand but when you finally did his three undamaged fingers wrapped around your own. He didn’t let go until Yuji took your place.

His fingers curl comfortably around yours now. The sharing of warmth between you both seems to help you both relax. His blood pressure goes down to a healthier level and you can finally manage to get some much needed sleep. You don’t even realize when you doze off. Something feels wrong when you wake up. The hospital room is dark except for the green glow of the machine running his intravenous and keeping his pulse and oxygen rates tracked. Disentangling his finger from yours, you stand, examining the numbers on it to be sure there isn’t anything wildly out of the ranges he’s been in. “It doesn’t look bad. All things considered.” You’ve been talking to him since the moment you found him in the rubble. It comes naturally now. You don’t expect a response.

The relationship you have is one sided. You and Choso had never officially met before the fight against Sukuna. You had seen him in passing. Especially in the months leading up to the climactic battle of good vs evil. He was referred to as the curse protecting Sukuna’s former vessel by those who didn’t care for him and Itadori’s older brother by those who did. You hadn’t formed an opinion either way at the time.

You change the bag of urine collected and make sure his catheter doesn’t have any kinks in the line. Finding nothing else to occupy yourself with you slide back into the chair you had been seated in. “I think I’m starting to lose it.” You’re not sure what woke you up but you doubt you could fall back asleep anytime soon. You place your hand under his again and his fingers wrap back around your own.

You adjust pulling your legs up onto your chair, your thumb lightly rubbing the back of his hand in what you hope is comforting circles. That uncomfortable feeling falls over you again. It’s like you're being watched. You jerk awake, your eyes quickly scan up his face only to lock on the dark brown eye watching you. You gasp in surprise and shock. He looks cognizant, his pupils are almost back to normal size. Your mouth opens and shuts a few times in shock, “I-I gotta tell Yuji.”

You go to reach for your phone but your attention goes back to him when he tries to sit up and speak. Eyes widening, you're shaking your head. You let go of the hand that is holding his to urge him to not move; but his grasp on you is surprisingly strong. It doesn’t hurt at all but it’s definitely firm. “Choso, please don’t try to get up yet. You’ll tear your stitches open.”

He must be able to hear your plea because he pauses and rests back into the pillows laying about him. His eyes are scanning his surroundings briefly. They pause on the wall clock only to wander until they rest on your face. “It’s 3:20 AM.” You hear yourself stupidly explain what he clearly just saw. “..but you know that because you read the clock. Sorry.”

He looks confused as to why you're apologizing. You flush in embarrassment before picking up your phone again. “Yuji is going to be so happy you're aware now.”

His fingers squeeze your own briefly to get your attention. You pause to glance up at him in surprise. His voice is deep and scratchy sounding but it’s there. “Don’t.”

You blink in confusion several times. All Choso has done is ask for Yuji the whole time he’s sick and now he doesn’t want to see him? Clarity hits you a moment later, “You don’t want to wake him up?”

The corner of his lip curls slightly in the smallest smile. His fingers flexing once around yours in what your guessing is approval. You can’t help but smile back, your eyes burning with relief that his mind seems intact. “How about I text him as a compromise?”

His response is so light it’s barely a flutter of his fingers. His head is leaning back into his pillow. The eye he doesn’t have covered with bandages sleepily blinks at you. His eye is starting to look unfocused as it drifts shut. Each time it closes it’s a little longer than the last. He’s still holding your hand. You text with one hand to Yuji telling him the good news but not to rush over that Choso is going back to sleep. When you finish the message you tuck the phone into your pants pocket. Now free your spare hand wanders to his brow again. Still cool to the touch. You caress his forehead lightly stroking his hair back. You hope you aren’t overstepping your boundaries by doing so. Thankfully, you're reassured when he gives a long breath out and his brow relaxes as he fully falls asleep.

Chapter 3

AN

I really enjoyed these fics with themes of loss and surviving with a caregiver reader. Please consider checking them out.

@umemiyan Postmortem/Postpartum

Buttholesupreme “I’ll be seeing you”

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Haunted - BAU team.

Summary: A particularly difficult case leaves you with death haunting your vision.

Warnings: General criminal minds issues, mentions of: weapons, suicide, injuries, explosion, fire, imagined death, anxiety attack, panic attack, anger, angst, crying, grounding exercises, exhaustion and fatigue, praise, pet names,

Pairing: BAU team x reader (Platonic/ Otherwise).

Word count: 2,011.

Having anxiety was no secret. I never was the best at hiding it and the team were well aware of how bad it could be but I handled myself when I needed to. I had tried to hide it from the moment I met them but I'd never shown how debilitating it was at the worst times.

The case we had been greeted with this morning was an active shooter and we all barely got out alive. Through having to split up and me losing my partner in the flurry of bodies, we were lucky to make it home. There was no doubt we could all do our jobs properly, we were well versed in our line of work but the horror of losing them was at the forefront of my mind the entire time, haunting me through the case as my mind ran rampant with what-ifs. I should have known it was useless trying to hide my thoughts around a team of the most prolific profilers but god did I try.

We surveyed the building, kitted in vests and guns, deducing this would be his endgame and we were right. Prentiss had my six and we worked seamlessly to scout our section of the building. But he caught us off guard with his final move. We profiled him as narcissistic, arrogant, someone who wanted everyone to know his name but never as a suicidal maniac.

The profile had been right, up until it wasn't, until we recognised some of the floor tiles were fitted with timed pressure bombs. The whole building was a ticking time bomb and we didn't know how long we had until it blew. Our communication lines with each other screeched with shouted warnings of the issue and on three we all ran to the closest exit. Emily and I were the closest to the exit, and the rest of the team spread out further into the death trap.

My chest heaved as I ran as fast as I could, pushing Emily out of the door before she could argue, the pair of us skidding to a stop at a safer distance as the bombs blew the building to pieces and flames engulfed the remaining structure.

The feeling that flooded my body as flames licked at the sky was indescribable, throwing me straight into a rational panic. Frantically, I scrambled towards the building, dodging falling smouldering debris in search of my team, my family, begging for them to be alive. Arms snaked around my waist and yanked me back, my eyes wide as I tried to read Emily's words over the blaze, shattering and sirens. At least she was thinking straight. My heart and stomach were in my throat, tears blurring my vision as I gave up fighting her grip. Penelope's voice was the first thing that filtered through the racket, tears evident in her voice as she begged us to answer, for us all to be safe but I couldn't find my Voice.

My knees practically buckled beneath me as Rossi's voice cracked in my ear followed by the remainder of the team, confirming everyone was present and accounted for. We all got away with bumps and scratches, a sprained wrist or ankle from jumping the building but otherwise unscathed, at least physically.

The day played on repeat in my head as I stood in my office back at the BAU, fake scenarios trampling through my vivid imagination as I watched the team through my blinds. Even David and Aaron were out of their offices, relief clear on their faces as they laughed and joked together. Every so often, they would look over at my window and I would make out I was busy, knowing if I joined them I would bring the mood down and my body would shut down. They had seen bad days, they had experienced their own bad days but they hadn't witnessed me at my worst and I wasn't sure I wanted them to.

My knees trembled as I walked around my desk, sinking into the plushness of my chair but it brought me no relief. Often, I used my job as a way of coping or pushing things away so nobody would see me break but today that method was far too little for what I was feeling. An hour dragged by in a concoction of sweating hands, shaking limbs and the occasional faint laughter from my team. No matter how I tried to drown the world out, I just felt worse, each moment getting more unbearable.

"Jesus Christ," I grated out through clenched teeth, holding my hands behind my head as my chest tightened. "What am I doing?" The question seemed mocking in the silence as I ran my fingers over my face to gather myself. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and towards the door, White-knuckling my files before exiting my office and walking along the catwalk to Aaron's. Eyes instantly locked onto me, following my steps as I fought to regulate my breathing as rapid breathing created spikes of pain in my chest and head. I let out a silent plea in my head for the world to swallow me up, grappling with my image to stay composed.

A shaky hand rose to swing open the door, stumbling slightly towards his desk as tears began to take my vision. The files all but fell from my hands as I doubled over, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I poorly attempted the breathing techniques Spencer had told me about but instead, black spots danced across my vision. It didn't take long for the team to notice my blunder as the sound of footsteps filled my ears, curiosity and worry permeating the air.

I didn't move from my leaning position as they filed in, closing the door and blinds as I struggled to control the broken and ragged breaths that squeezed from my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry, not to break as they watched.

Not here. Not now.

The flare of pain in my chest shocked me as my hand slapped to my chest in panic, palpitations knocking my heartbeat off course. Images of their mangled bodies flooded my mind, each of them lying motionless at horrifying angles in the rubble of the building. The sight of my family lying dead in the dirt as though they were raggedy dolls caused bile to rise in my throat as I glared at the floor.

"Y/N," Emily's voice rang in my ears, her dead lips moving in time. "What do you need?" Scalding tears streamed down my face as I let out a cynical laugh. Why would she ask me that when she was the one lying ripped apart and covered in dirt and soot? What I needed was the least of my worries. Being caged in my own head scared me more than anything and anger quickly rose as I shook the bars, wanting to escape, wanting to move. What I would give to laugh and joke with them in this moment. And yet I knew it was in my head, knew that Emily wasn't really dead but my own brain refused to acknowledge it.

The anger quickly boiled over, becoming unbearable, as I launched an empty glass from Hotch's desk at the wall, sobs clawing from my throat as I dug my nails into the wood in an attempt to ground myself. I tried to filter the facts into my mind; I was safe, my team were alive and trying to get my attention, the world was locked out leaving us in the soft light of the office and I needed help. God, I needed help dealing with this, I couldn't do this one alone.

"Y/N, let's get you sat down." My head shook, betraying me as I let go of the desk, trying to straighten up. The action was instantly regrettable as my head screamed at me and my legs collapsed under me. I gritted my teeth in pain as my head throbbed, joined by pain radiating through my spine and butt. Wonderful, just to add to my plate, I was now ridiculously embarrassed. Heartwrenching sobs worked up in my throat and escaped, leaving me pained and vulnerable to my whole team who were scrambling around me, making sure I wasn't hurt.

My body was unexpectantly hauled into a pair of arms, fight or flight kicking in as I tried to escape them, the room filling with breathless whimpers and wet gasps from my cries. My eyes were tight as vices and the burn of their eyes simmered through me, witnessing my weakness. I loathed that they were seeing me like this, especially at work.

"We've got you, Y/N, We're here." I tried to focus on David's softened voice, gripping his arms as they held me, back resting against his chest. I felt a shift as someone knelt beside us and my eyes shot open, more tears forced from them as the blurry image of Spencer came into a wavering focus. Gentle fingers rested against the pulse point on my wrist as my body vibrated with effortful breaths. I stared up at the tiled ceiling, teeth chattering as I let the pains in my lungs and head run their course. The rest of the team has taken up space in the office, on the sofa, office chairs and even the floor. They'd made such an effort to make me comforted with just analysing the space around us and making themselves fit into it rather than towering over me and making it feel worse.

"Remember the breathing techniques I told you about, stay in the room with us." I nodded shakily, watching with haunted eyes as Spencer's hand circled my other wrist and placed it on his chest in an attempt to have me breathe with him. David's steady, strong heartbeat thumped against my back and I sunk into the feeling of them as JJ's hand came to rest on my ankle. The heat of it burned my cold, clammy skin as slowly but surely my breaths came easier, my eyes cleared of spotted vision and the tingling feeling in my hands and feet subsided. My breathing was still a little unsettled, hiccups emerging between small sobs as my team, my family, encouraged me.

"You're doing so well," Penelope's voice was gentle and sweet, similar to how you would speak to a scared child and the irony stung a little. "You want some water?" I nodded, scrubbing at my face only for silent tears to replace erased ones. A brightly coloured bottle was thrust gently into my eyes and I gratefully took it, gulping down the liquid to soothe the sear in my throat. Shivers began to run down my spine as I calmed down, teeth chattering as the chill overtook and my eyes geared up more as Aaron removed his suit jacket, wrapping it over me as a comforting blanket. My body was trembling as though my blood sugar had plummeted and fatigue set in quickly as all the energy drained from my body and I slumped bonelessly against the older agent.

"Hey baby doll, you got through it, you're okay." I took a deep breath, a small smile twitching on my face as Derek praised me. "We're proud of you."

My eyes began to flutter as I fought to keep them open, gentle murmurs of voices filling the space as the room settled down. Aaron and David's voices registered in a low, soothing hum, barely registering through my exhaustion. Time seemed to dawdle by until I was carefully lifted into strong, warm arms, carrying me across the space and laying me down softly on the sofa. I hummed a thank you as a blanket was draped over me along with the suit jacket and my head nestled down into Emily's lap as the smell of Penelope's lavender laundry detergent wafted from the blanket, lulling me to sleep alongside the gentle nails grazing my scalp.

[sanjoongie]

Duchess of Death!

☠Pairing: Butler! Jung Yunho x Duchess! Reader (f) x Cook! Jung Wooyoung

☠Au: the Duke of death and his maid anime, anime au, noble au

☠Trope: mutual pining, noble/servant

☠Genre: angst, smut

☠️Word Count: 2,136

☠Rating: 18+, MDNI

☠Warnings: the entire sexy body of Jeong Yunho described in various compromising ways, mxm, handjob, mutual masturbation, verbal instruction

☠Summary: cursed as a child to kill anything you touch, you're banished to your family's estate in the country with only your faithful Butler Yunho by your side. He knows of your curse yet does everything in his power to push your limits--just to see your reaction.

☠A/N: To the Ying to my Yang. may we never see eye to eye and always laugh despite of it 🤣🤣 you’re always there to match my level and i never feel more myself than i am with you. We may fight, and sometimes it’s nasty, but I'd like to think that sisters fight the way we do, so that always eases my heart. Please never change, you’re my world, my sun, happy birthday @mejuii

“Yunho!” You call for your butler at the piano. “My oral fixation is acting up again! Fetch me something to suck on.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Yunho bows his head and reaches for his pants.

You watch in horror as he unbuttons them and places both hands by his hips, about to pull down his pants, implying--

“YUNHO!” You screech, covering your eyes with your gloved hands. “Why are you like this?!”

Yunho began to button his pants back up. “Why, because your reactions are so cute, Your Grace,” Yunho chuckled.

“I'll cute you,” You say, a grumble and a warning in your tone, “without the e.”

“Oh no!” Yunho covers his mouth in a mock gasp of horror. “Not my hair, Your Grace, you swore you'd never let me cut it. Or do you mean to say you wonder if I'm cut or not? Do you think that changes the texture on your tongue?”

Your face heats up, embarrassment thrumming through your veins. “No, I did not mean that! Stop with your sexual innuendos.”

Yunho smiles, lips only pulled up at the corners in the slightest, his perfect cupid’s bow  the epitome of temptation. And you will never be able to feel them against yours because of your damn curse.

When you were but a child, a witch had casted a curse on you; anything you touched would die. So you had been banished to this mansion, far from your family, with only your butler as company. It had been hard at first, to be away from your younger brother and sister but soon Yunho was the only family you needed. He eased the ache in your soul. 

“Your Grace, should I prepare the afternoon tea?” Yunho wonders. “Surely you should start utilizing the new chef we hired.”

You perk up at the mention of the new cook but wilt upon realizing you couldn't even thank him properly for the meals he prepared. “No, Yunho, I’ll have my sucker for now.”

“As you will, Your Grace.” Yunho bent at the waist to bow and went to fetch the sweet concoction that would do nothing for your hunger pains.

Wooyoung, unbeknownst to you, is waiting outside the doors in anticipation. When Yunho leaves the sun room and closes the door softly, he shakes his head and Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. All they want is to serve you and you continue to keep them at arm's length--physically as well as emotionally. 

Still, you cannot deny that Yunho has your heart utterly in his grasp. Whether he’s aiding you in moving the plants around to capture the sun best, or he’s tucking a blanket around you when you fall asleep in front of the fireplace, too stubborn to move to your bedroom, he’s your constant. He never leaves your side and you have come to prefer it this way. But it is still torture to know that you will never be able to touch, to kiss, to hug the one you love the most. 

Then one day, a small reprieve is given to you. You had been walking the halls of your mansion, specifically making your way to the wing that held the wonderful pieces of art your family had accumulated over the centuries. They didn’t hold any value or interest to you per say, but it gave you a purpose on this day. 

You scrunch your nose in confusion, tilting your head to follow the complex lines of one particular painting. Your confusion only increases as Yunho pushes into your personal space. In fear, you back up against the wall, palms pressed to the wall. Yunho slams a hand on the wall beside your head and his lip twists into a smirk. 

“If I had known you wished to gaze at something beautiful, I would have volunteered myself, Your Grace.” Yunho speaks in a lilting, low voice and you feel as if you’re being hypnotized by your butler. 

“Yunho!” You squeak, eyes avoiding his own.

Yunho takes the moment to eye you from bottom to top. If you had bothered to meet his gaze, you would have seen the hunger emanating from them. “What I would give to be able to pleasure you with my own hands…Your Grace.” The formality seemed to be added only because of habit. 

You bit down on your lip, the feeling mutual. You breathed quickly, inhaling his dark scent that belonged only to Yunho. “Me too,” you whispered as if you couldn't bear to say it louder. 

You hear pitter-pattering of feet, the screech of the sole of shoes along marble, and finally Wooyoung turns the corner. He braces himself against his thighs as he catches his breath. “....you bastard… Jeong Yunho…starting…without me!”

This causes you to meet Yunho’s eyes finally. His eyes mirror your own, wide and worried. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand.

Yunho backs off, but only slightly. “We should retire to your bed chambers first, Your Grace.” He uses his hand to point the way, bowing to a small degree and waiting for your feet to move. 

You sent a look to Wooyoung, attempting to read his face, but it’s cheerfully blank now. He sends you a winning smile, however, but it only causes you to grumble. The only way you’re finding out what’s going on is by following Yunho’s lead. You’ve been down this road before.

Once in your room, Wooyoung bounced on the balls of his feet while Yunho stood still. “Your Grace, we have figured out a work-around to you not being able to touch me.”

Your eyes flew open in excitement. “You figured out how to break the curse!”

Yunho winces. “Not exactly, Your Grace.”

Wooyoung whistles, seemingly innocent. “We figured out the next best thing!”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at Yunho. 

Wooyoung caught his tongue between his teeth naughtily. “You tell me what to do to Yunho. I’ll be like an extension of your hands.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Yunho moves into your bubble, practically cutting off your view of Wooyoung. “I can tell you what I’d want to do to you. You would move your hands to my command. If you willed it, Your Grace.”

“Yunho…"

“Please please please!” Wooyoung begs, poking his head around Yunho’s broad body.

You take a step back and wring your hands through your gloves. “I don’t know…”

Yunho places a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to halt his movements. “It’s fine Wooyoung. I told you she wouldn’t want to see me in a debauched state with your hands on me.”

Your face flames up and you slap your hands to it. The pure and unadulterated image of Wooyoung grasping Yunho’s cock in his hand and Yunho’s head cast backwards in ecstasy cannot be erased from your mind’s eye. 

“Wait…”

“Your Grace?” Yunho cocks his head, always waiting for your command. 

“You should show me. A demonstration is in order,” You order.

Wooyoung gleefully giggles and then he’s zooming to your bed. Yunho sends you one more unreadable look and then he is moving towards your bed as well. He sits against the headrest like he belongs there. Wooyoung raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

Oh, right, you had to instruct Wooyoung. “Ummm… unbutton Yunho’s shirt first.”

Wooyoung clucks his tongue at you. “Tell us how you’d do it, Your Grace.”

“I…I would lean in to take in Yunho’s smell and then unbutton his shirt. Slowly.” How were you going to do this and not end up a puddle on the floor?!

“Ooooh!” Wooyoung leans towards Yunho’s neck and takes a deep breath. “He does smell good.” Wooyoung’s deft fingers pluck at Yunho’s vest and shirt until it’s gaping open for your viewing pleasure. “What next, what next?” Wooyoung looks at you eagerly.

You find yourself climbing onto your bed, legs splaying under your body at the foot of it. Wooyoung unbuttons Yunho’s trousers next and pulls him out. Yunho is already hard and impressively long. 

“I’d torture him. I’d run my hand up and down his shaft for hours, to hear his pretty moans just for me,” You whisper and then you clamp your hands over your mouth.

Wooyoung’s smile couldn't have been more full of teasing. “Your Grace knows exactly what she wants.” Wooyoung wraps his hand around Yunho and strokes him slowly, achingly slow.

Yunho swallows loudly and lets out a devastating moan. It’s exactly like you imagined in your bed, late at night, when you would touch yourself after a hard day of teasing from Yunho. It was exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“Your…Grace…” Yunho attempts to pull himself out of the lust he’s feeling from Wooyoung’s hand. “Please imagine my hands skimming up your legs and playing with your most intimate parts. I want to see my fingers pushing in and out of your sweet hole.”

You press your lips together in nervousness. Could you really touch yourself in front of both Wooyoung and Yunho? Wooyoung jerks his chin, as if to say “get on with it!” and you scowl at him, sticking your tongue childishly at him. Still, you remove your gloves, a wary eye on how far the two men are from you.

You pull your petticoats up, spreading your legs, and let your fingers play along your thighs. They skim and tempt and then finally you reach your mound. You move your hands to your hips to pull down your undergarments but Yunho’s grunt stops you.

“Don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Keep them on.”

You push them to the side instead, wetting your finger along your folds, before pushing one into you. “Wha-what next?”

Wooyoung is biting his lip, tempted by both the pleasure he’s giving Yunho and the picture you’re giving him, fingers inside of yourself. Yunho’s chest is moving up and down quickly, like he can’t catch his breath. “I would bring you to as many orgasms as I could give you,” He growls.

Wooyoung tsks at Yunho this time. “She needs direction, Yunho, not a prediction of your sex life.”

Yunho spares Wooyoung a harsh glare before focusing on you. His eyes follow your fingers and you swear he gains some energy and confidence from it. “I would make you feel every inch of my fingers inside of you.”

It’s your turn to gulp. “Fingers?” You squeak.

Wooyoung grins. “You heard the butler. Better put another finger inside of yourself, Your Grace.”

You groan as you stretch yourself with two fingers. It feels good to do as Yunho says and you get a little excited, pumping your fingers inside of you faster. “So good.”

“Your Grace,” Yunho moans, “Please, can you play with my head?”

“Oh Yunho,” You gasp.

Wooyoung, after a quick nod from you, rolls his palm along the head of Yunho’s cock, causing Yunho to jolt. His hands fist your expensive Italian silk sheets in response. “Your Grace, your hands feel lovely on me. I’m sure they’re soft and small but so good to me.”

“Yun-Yunnie,” You mewl in response. “Need you. Need you so badly.”

“Co-come with me, Your Grace. Let us climax together!” Yunho cries out.

You focus purely on coming from your butler. You thrust your fingers in and out of your sopping hole. You aggressively rub your clit as well, chasing that high that’s just out of the reach. Wooyoung’s fist quickly makes good work of Yunho and soon the two of you are coming together. Yunho’s gravelly groan makes your cunt clench around your fingers and you come with a long, drawn out whine. 

All three of you are panting in need but you are well aware that there is no step after this; this is as far as you can go. Until you break the curse, until you can touch Yunho without killing him, this is the most you can manage.

“We’re doing this again,” Wooyoung, of all people, declares. “I’m going to make us food. You two talk.” And with all the energy of a whirlwind, Wooyoung is gone with the quiet hush of a closed door.

You push your skirts down and Yunho tucks himself back into his pants. “Your Grace? Was that enjoyable for you? Please tell me it pleased you.”

You smiled through unshed tears. “It was wonderful, Yunho.”

“Your Grace.” Yunho’s voice is hoarse. He reaches out but lets his hand fall before he can touch you. “We will break this curse. I will marry you and we will be together in every way we’ve always dreamed.”

“I hope so Yunho, I truly do,” You sob.

The two of you sit there, embracing each other with your eyes only, for that’s all you can do. Until Yunho suggests that he touch himself again to get you to stop crying. That is when you choke out a laugh and throw a pillow at him. And all is well in the household of the duchess of death and her butler. 

[jaeyunverse]

the 24-hour dating challenge (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, crack, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, influencer au (?)

EST. WORD COUNT | around 5k

WARNING(S) | profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad, mc is painfully dense + all warnings to be added in the full fic!

SUMMARY | being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

TAGLIST | @blank-velvet @soobisms @justalildumpling @xharisrealm @skzenhalove @alicesolengg @yenqa @geombyu @tika-writes-lol @jlheon @haknom @useraerin @hooniessslvrss @flwrshee @rikisly @tobiosbbyghorl @wonkivrse @heeflrs @bambithia @iea-tsand @chaechae-23 @en-dazed @jayfrvr @h-hazwie @moonlighthoon @justanotherkpopstanlol @sseastar-main @seongclb @shoyotime @gerianne @iadorethemskz @sieuneo @hoon0logy @luvistqrzzz @sucrosxi @lzux1 @t4kalcvr @nes-caf @odxrilove @trippy-dejun @arizejkt19 @xuimhao @vizstars @enhacatalog send an ask/comment if u wish!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | I AM COMING BACK!!!!!! (kinda. maybe. idk i get ahead of myself a lot LOL) finals are finallyyyy over and i have some time to write this week so i’ve started this old wip of mine! it’s going to be pretty short and sweet so i’ll hopefully be able to follow through on this teaser but no promises haha :)) i hope u look forward to this fic! inspired by h.j evelyn (♡)

click here for the full fic!

“Your followers want me to do what?” 

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!” 

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression. 

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?” 

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.” 

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?” 

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.  

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.” 

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived. 

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit truly went downhill. 

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.  

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras. 

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up. 

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you. 

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you. 

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults. 

The list was very long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.   

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to. 

And damn, they were right. 

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware. 

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self. 

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see. 

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails. 

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.  

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”  

[fivewholeminutes]

so. wembley.

Once I have finally gathered my wits the words did not want to stop coming. This rambling is long; apologies for that. And for the messed up tenses I hate tenses we only have one past tense why is English like this

No photos/videos yet, they are still not properly checked/deleted/edited by me.

It was. Unsurprisingly. One of the best days of my life. But also, I don't remember much from my life, so don't trust me on this one. (Kidding, it totally WAS one of the best days of my life). And uhh... I have a problem with processing events and emotions, so it still feels like I have seen it on a TV screen instead of, you know, actually, physically having been there? Idk how to explain that, I still have to convince my brain that I've been there. I feel detached from it completely. But!! I!! Have!! Been!! There!!

I woke up so early that foxes were still roaming the streets. Didn't talk much with people around me in the queue (hello anxiety), but they were lovely! I signed the blue flag for iii from me & Lia, got the sticker for Projekt Atlantic, received some bracelets, exchanged some bracelets, put some sea creatures tattoos on people (LIA I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE WHALE!!!), slept on a pavement, bought merch for myself and others (I've never had anyone to buy concert merch for before, it's such a nice feeling 🥺).

And queueing for so long was so fucking worth it! Third row, baby!! For the first time in the middle!! (Which was my downfall later, but the pre-show me was not aware of that just yet). I couldn't actually hear HEALTH that well, but I really liked their drummer, he was enjoying himself and his joy was contagious. (I've checked them later though and. Last album, my beloved.) During the break, well, you all know what was happening, I have been liveblogging everything (sorry about that <3). The moment someone in the crowd literally screeched when they saw the new masks on instagram was a blessing, I wouldn't have survived seeing them in new masks without a warning. Also, my blind ass would probably realise 3 songs in that they have different masks, I shit you not. Besides, it was super fun having a mental breakdown here on tumblr with y'all <3

When Espera entered the stage, everything else stopped being of any importance to me. I remember my first thought was "oh yeah, sure, the ladies are dressed up and moving like this and you expect me to focus on anything else that is happening on this stage?". And of course, my second thought was "I GOTTA TAKE PICTURES FOR DARYA". Naturally, I was trying to keep up with everything else anyway. I haven't seen ii all too well though and it makes me sad :( Alas. I've had a good vantage point for the ladies. Yeah. Brain went brrrrr every time I was looking at them. Where was I again-

I was still coughing at that time. I got a terrible coughing fit after literally 3 short screams during HEALTH and my idiot ass has left all the lozenges except one in the hotel room an hour before the door opening. I thought I would have to spend the rest of the night not singing along nor screaming and felt utterly heartbroken for a few minutes, but after my Holy Grail Lozenge (and a LOT of water from the venue's crew) my cough has abandoned me for the duration of the whole ritual (thank you, Sleep). Even though, when Sam told us that we have to sing, my only thought was "I CAN'T FUCKING SING EITHER, MATE". But I did. Oh, I so fucking did. I sung my lungs out and did not cough even ONCE.

But you know. I was exhausted, anxious, surrounded by strangers and had more sugar in my veins than red cells at that point, so I wasn't my best self. I really thought the karaoke was for shits and giggles at first. "Oh yeah, it's The Most Popular Song, let's see how it sounds when 10k people sing it without the singer's help!", you know. Thought it was for the recording the announcements warned us about. But then we sung Granite. Ohhhkay. And then The Love You Want - certainly not a song they would leave for an impropmtu singalong. It was then that I (belatedly) realised that yeah, something really was wrong and so my heart broke again. So many preparations! Their biggest gig so far! Even iii managed to be there! And something had to happen!! Specifically!! To Vessel!! Of all people!! That was just not fair. He totally didn't deserve this. But it's just life and its endless fucking bad surprises for everyone, huh.

I didn't have enough time to collect all the broken pieces of my heart from the sticky floor and mend them after this realisation, because after Vessel joined the singing for the last few lines of TLYW, he dropped to his knees in front of us crying and thanking everyone. That sight is now carved into my brain. This is when I realised the 3rd row was a mistake. The psychic damage it gave me is irrevocable. Do you have those moments that you will never forget? A few seconds of an (usually traumatic) experience that will haunt you forever, replaying in your mind like a broken record? It was a bit like this for me. It wasn't traumatic, mind you, but it was definitely something that made a permanent dent in my heart and a home in my brain. And I wouldn't change it anyway.

Another thing that made me think that I will just fall down and never get up was iii & iv's hug. It was. So full of love and reassurence. Idk, you could just feel that emitting from them, okay? I was standing there thinking "yeah sure, just fucking murder me tonight instead, okay. Should've kept staring at Espera only-". Ah yes. The ladies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Where was I again-

The goosebumps when the whole venue yelled "they won't be missing you" during Nazareth, oh my fucking god. On my previous rituals, in way smaller venues, there's always been a handful of people screaming it. And everyone doing it? Unparalleled feeling. Bordering on the shrimp emotions scale.

The lights were spectacular. I cannot describe how amazing the light show was. I am sending a kiss to each and every light crew member.

Also, Vessel being more emotional during the ritual as a whole. The TLYW moment was the worst for me, but there were many others. (Ascensionism and Bloodsport stabbing me with a rusty knife the most.) I mean, who could've blamed him for the emotions, he would probably be very emotional even without the voice issues. Who wouldn't be!! It was a big night, after all. God, it must have been so difficult for him, I really, really fucking hope the love coming from his bandmates, crew and the crowd was enough to help him focus on the good parts of the evening only. And!! It wasn't even that bad!!! Sure, he lost his voice for a while, but once it was back you could!! Barely!! Hear!! The difference!! I have a whole new level of respect for Vessel because of that. And for staying onstage with us for the songs he couldn't sing. Didn't know I could respect him even more than I already did, but hey. Love being surprised like that. I have seen concerts where the singers were singing way worse live while being completely healthy. Like sure, you could notice he's not using so many uhh, how do you call this in English, vocal ornamentations??? and that his voice is strained, but it was still beautiful. Take care of your voice now though, dude, jfc. Thanks for the sacrifice, much appreciated, but TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU- (kidding, kidding. or am i.) I also liked that he was leaving the more screamy moments in songs for us. Aiming the microphone at us, positive we'll have his back. Like yeah, yeah, other bands do that relatively often, but it's not something they usually do, you know.

I can't vouch for everyone in the crowd, but I sure as fuck did not have a SINGLE thought that the show sucks because of his voice issues. Like it didn't even occur to me. Honest to god. I was shocked when I saw on tumblr that people were leaving? Asking for a refund????????????? I was having the time of my life singing those songs. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, probably!! Who can say they karaoked whole 3 songs with the band playing for them live?? Your local karaoke bar could never. (Bonus points, you could hear Espera better bc of that! Yes, I know, you are not supposed to hear backing vocals too loud in general, I'm just saying it was nice hearing them, bc usually I hear them on recordings only.)

Yeah, sure I was disappointed after the show that there was no Euclid, but that's just me, a total whore for Euclid. It's a completely different thing than being a bitch who leaves halfway, because something out of the ordinary has been happening.

Anyways. I would like to wish all the crowdsurfers a very fuck you. Hope you will all step on a lego every day for the rest of your lives <3

Crowdsurfers and constant giving away of water (which I understand, it was terribly hot there and it was needed) were a bit distracting, I missed some things because of the commotion, the drum solo has been disrupted by me getting a (fortunately very light) kick in the mouth and DRUM SOLO IS SACRED. I HOPE THE CROWDSURFER WHO DECIDED TO GO UP IN THAT MOMENT WILL STEP ON 3 LEGOS DAILY. IT'S LITERALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE RITUAL FOR ME AND THEY HAVE RUINED IT. Thanks to another crowdsurfer, I missed the moment the band was throwing stuff into the crowd and I promised Lia I will catch a pick/drumstick for them!!!!!!! I've had a banner for this occassion and all!!!!! And!!!!! For the whole time things were flying from the scene!!!! I have been under someone's legs and ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Side note: Vessel was throwing away his rings. That's so fucking cool, ahh.

All in all, half of the things that happened there, I've learned from tumblr. The announcements about the recording, people leaving, Vessel being covered in runes (I WAS STANDING RIGHT BEFORE HIM AND DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING. A N Y T H I N G. I HATE BEING A BLIND IDIOT), the Espera ladies laughing at iii for not coming to the photo, hell, even Vessel trying to get his attention. I have NO idea what I've been doing back then, it's a blur again lmao. And. The most important thing: Vessel's "thank you". I didn't catch it back then. I don't hear it on my recording. Tbh I couldn't believe y'all for a long while that it really happened (I'm sorry). But it did and you know what? I'm glad the broken pieces of my heart were left on the arena's floor earlier during the show. I don't want them anymore.

I would also like to thank that one security guy in huge headphones who was our warning that another fucking crowdsurfer was coming our way. I hope the headphones guy's pillow is always cold on both sides, his skin clear, his crops- and so on. Our hero <3

There was also a moment during Atlantic (another important moment disrupted. Smh) where 2 security persons dived into the crowd?? I still have no idea what was happening, bc if someone faints for example, they are always brught to the barricade by the crowd and security picks them up, I've never seen security getting into the crowd before. And because of that, people around me were talking loudly during Atlantic. Kill kill murder kill

Still, Projekt Atlantic was a huge success and I am so proud of the organisers!! They're in the same category of lovely people as the big headphones security guy

Sending a kiss to @murderofcrow for this gif 🖤

To sum up. I will forever be grateful for this band. This music has activated the dormant parts of my mind. I am making art again. I am meeting cool people because of them. I have people to talk about it with who are as excited about it as I am. For the first time in ages I really feel alive again. And life is not good, far from it, to be completely honest with you, they haven't magically fixed all my problems, but I do have something that actually fucking works on me. I know Vessel wouldn't agree, but they are saving people. And you all, lovely ST pocket of tumblr motherfuckers who are reading this, you are saving people too.

And, last but not least!! In hot pink, because I can! Thanks to this ritual I could finally meet @vesselsscarlet and @thevenomousseprent in person!!!!!!!!! I love you guys, you are amazing and I can't wait to see you again 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 You've made me feel so loved that weekend and it's something I haven't felt in a while!!

[inosukenumberonefan]

Pairing: Shigaraki x femreader

Genre:Reverse comfort

You awkwardly looked around in the bar. Everyone was being to loud it wasn’t often that the whole league was out of their rooms and hanging out in the bar but it wasn’t enjoyable especially if you didn’t like to much noise or people annoying you so it wasn’t a surprise Shigaraki got up abruptly in the middle of a conversation with Toga and stormed outside which was a bit odd usually he went to his room. Toga didn’t seem to notice how irritated he was because she called after him.

“Rude! Do you have any manners?” You jumped from your stool and gently opened the door and peeped your head out. Shigaraki was angrily stomping away while scratching his skin. You stepped out and carefully shut the door behind you. For about 1p seconds you followed him walking up the alleyway., you thought you were doing a decent job at until he sighed (loudly) turned around and angrily asked.

“Why are you following me!?” You awkwardly stepped out the shadows but before you could get a word out he spoke. “No don’t bother answering that. Just go back and leave me alone!”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be alone! Why else would I have left!” You shrugged; you didn’t have to say anything else for him to start ranting.

“I’m tied of hearing Toga's voice besides if I have to watch compress preform one more stupid ‘magic trick’ I might just delete this entire league and start over from scratch!” He yelled at you and scratched his neck frantically. Your frown deepened you felt bad for him and your motherly instincts kicked in and you took a step forward then another one and another until you were in decent distance of him and again he started shouting.

“What are you doing?! Stay back! This is exactly why I left in the first place!” When you didn’t stop he scoffed and scratched once again then let out a mutter. “You people drive me crazy! I can’t get 5 minutes to myself without hearing one of you whine or screech or monologue about something no one cares about! As if a little silence from time to time would kill us all!” Once he stopped for a couple seconds you declared it safe to proceed.

“Is there any ointment for it?” You asked gently pointing at the raw skin on his neck.

“What?!” He looker at you with the most annoyed expression you had ever seen. “No! Are you stupid?!” You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. “Wait don’t answer that either you’ll just prove my point and I’m already pissed off.” He looked back at you, you were so clearly eyeing the skin.

“Well I-" Just as you were going to offer him some he interrupted again.

“Just because it manifests physically doesn’t mean it’s a physical condition.” He looked back at you. “In fact I’m certain it’s not. And if you’d think about all the times you’ve seen me scratch you’d be certain to.”

“Mhm?” You hummed as if telling him to go on and he did, although it was just to ramble about how annoying you are.

“I only itch when I want to destroy something.” He narrowed his eyes. “And what do you know?” He said in a fake euthanasic voice. “As soon as you stepped into this alley with me.” He paused and scratched for dramatic effect “The itching flared up again. So do me a favor and go home.” Odd choice of words since you lived at the league of villains hideout. He waited for you to go but you didn’t budge still awkwardly standing in the alley way.

“Well?! Why are you just standing?!” You decided to ignore the fear and started walking towards him, not to your surprise he objected. “What are you doing?! The hell? No! No! Stop it.” When he saw you weren’t going to stop he reverted to insulting you. “Of all those idiots you might be the most irritating of them all!” When you were about a meter away he continued. “Do you not know what personal space is?!” You shrugged.

“Where do you get all this audacity do you not realize I could reach out and disintegrate you on a whim?!” You did but against every instinct in your body you didn’t leave.

“You’ve been itchy all day.” You commented. “How about you tell me more about it?” You asked in a gentle voice.

“No! I don’t want to ‘tell you out more about it.!’” He mocked.

“Are you-"

“Fuck off!” You stood there silent as you watched him attentively with caring and sympathetic eyes. He sighed exasperated and dramatically.

“Fine! I’ll talk about it if you stop looking at me like that!” He caved. “Are you happy.” You nodded and smiled it was not returned. “But after you have to fine someone else to bother and leave me alone!”

“Deal.” He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall and you copied before starting.

“I pretty much always itch because there’s pretty much always something or someone I want to destroy nearby. Its that simple.” He sighed again before continuing. “But I can’t go around withering everything away on impulse at least not yet…” He mumbled the last part to himself.

“Yea?”

“I can’t afford to keep replacing items or people that may be useful, so I hold it inside, I do nothing even though all I want is to press the tips of my fingers firmly against everything I hate and feel the tension go away as it breaks apart.” He chuckled at the thought looking up to the sky, he had kind of a grin on his face.

“Well you’re not itching right now.” You observed and he snapped out of what seemed to be a moment of peace.

“Stop trying to psychoanalyze me! What does it matter?!”

“Might mean-"

“I’m tempted to cover my mouth with your hands until- until-.” He looked back at you and groaned in annoyance. He made a sound that sounded like growling and he sighed.

“No that’s not exactly true. I’m not itching right now. I-” he took a long pause. “Don’t want to destroy you.” You didn’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t that. “I don’t know why! You won’t running your mouth just like the others! The whole reason why I left was to get some peace and quiet before everyone ended up in a dust bin.” He looked back at you. “Yet here you are interrupting my single player time, getting way too close to me and asking all these stupid questions!” He took a breather and calmed his voice. “And somehow I don’t hate you for it. I… don’t wanna use my quirk.” He exclaimed as if he was surprised in himself. “What is wrong with me.” He mumbled to himself.

“Nothings wrong with you-"

“I was ready to end them all I had to get away because I would’ve done it. The itching was so intense I couldn’t take it anymore! They just wouldn’t stop! The talking, the noise it didn’t matter how many times I told them to knock it off, it didn’t matter how long I sat there more and more irritated by their idiotic behavior, clawing at myself my skin crawling with disgust!” His voice only got more and more mad and intense each word. “I wanted to annihilate everyone of them right then and there and they didn’t even have the decency to notice! They just kept acting… normal.” He chuckled to himself. “So I went for a walk to get away from their obliviousness and here you are.” He summarized.

“You followed me because you did notice, didn’t you?” You gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Yea.” He laughed and it sounded genuine.

“I suppose that explains why I don’t want to kill you.” You grinned you didn’t think he noticed but he did. “But don’t get cocky. It isn’t usually wise to pursue a man who wants to be left alone especially if he can get alone with a single touch.” You raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Still as much as I don’t want to swell your head about it. I’ll admit its nice to talk to someone who actually want to know how I feel. Its nice not to itch again, my skin almost never feels this… calm.” He sighed but in a good way.

“Does it still hurt?” He snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Well yea it hurts. I mean look at it its shredded raw.”

“But it doesn’t itch?” You asked gently and he shook his head and you gave him a small smile. “Well that’s better then how it normally feels. Sit with me.”

“What? Here?” He sounded appalled “And why would we do that?”

“You wanna go back?”

“Of course not.” You raised your eyebrows and shot him a look that meant where else are you gonna go he must have got it because he then admitted you had a point. “Fine.” He muttered and plopped down onto the cold cement and you quickly followed.

“So now what?” He gave you an annoyed look. “You gonna play therapist some more or?” You didn’t answer as your eyes were drawn to his long baby blue hair again you ignored the fear and went for it. You twirled his hair in your fingers and traced your fingers through his scalp.

“What are you doing?!” He asked as you moved into a kneeling position.

“I’m playing with your hair.” You calmly stated and continued.

“Well I know that but why?!” You shrugged but answered.

“Because there’s no other place I could touch you right now that wouldn’t hurt.” You looked at him. “And it feels nice doesn’t it?”

“Well it…” He went silent and you stopped worried that maybe you were being to rough. “No, don’t stop its whatever just do what you want.” He mumbled and you perked up. “Its not like were going anywhere any time soon.”

“Does it hurt?” You asked after about a minute.

“No its- its pleasant. You were right about the not being able to touch me anywhere else that wouldn’t be painful. That is if you’re determined to touch me at all.”

“Well you know me.”

“You really are impossible you know that, I see exactly why you would’ve never made it as a hero.” You narrowed your eyes and gently tugged on his hair and he involuntary let out a chuckle. “Boundaries aren’t really your thing are they?”

“You know me so well.” You teased and continued running your fingers through his hair and gently humming.

“At least your good at it.” You chuckled surprised that he actually complimented you well sort of.

“Well thank you for the compliment.” He was going to object and say it wasn’t but he yawned instead.

“If I’m not careful you’ll put me to sleep.” He softly chuckled and closed his eyes before shooting right up and turning to you. “This isn’t part of some grand Master plan to take out the party leader is it?!” You snorted at the ridiculousness. “If it is remember I inflict a permanent debuff on contact.”

“Oh no you figured my master plan!” You sarcastically said and rolled your eyes. “How ever did you figure it out?”

“You don’t have to be a dick.” He mumbled and took a deep breath relaxing and closed his closed his eyes. “Do that other thing?”

“Hmm?”

“The one where you run your fingers through my hair.” You did as told and you could see the tension flow away as his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s better I like that.” It seemed he was to relaxed to save face. He slouched and took a deep breath he was right you were putting him to sleep. “You know maybe I should get some ointment.” You smirked because he had almost admitted you were right. “Not that it would matter most of the time. My skin just stays broken and itchy when I’m around the others anyway but it wouldn’t be so bad to have for times like this to take the sting away when it doesn’t itch. Maybe I could start taking walks like this regularly.”

“Id think that would help you.”

“And since you apparently have no instinct for self preservation and want to follow me-" he cut himself off with a yawn. “Maybe you could help me out a little.”

“Id like that.” At this point he was just talking to himself but you still felt the need to weigh in.

“Id have to take care of my hands of course but my arms would be okay to touch and my neck you could hover up some ointment there since you’re so hansey.” He was trailing off.

“My face that’s where it hurts the most of all… I can’t remember the last time anyone living has ever touched my face…” His voice was soft and sleepy. “Thank you I needed this.” He said before falling asleep his head softly hitting your shoulder.

Hes so fine 😽😻

[thelampisaflashlight]

Occasionally, I, like, "forget" I'm mentally ill.

I'll have days where I'm anxious/generally just not doing well in the ol' brain box, and won't be able to place why, and then I remember, "Dude, your brain chemicals are fucky. Take a moment and reassess."

And while having an awareness of the fact that I have a bad brain doesn't stop the physical symptoms of it (you have to kinda gear down from that, ya know, doesn't just go away like magic) it does give me more clarity.

So sometimes I'm just sitting there, trying to do basic shit and shaking.

Like, I will be trembling and struggling to use my phone, because my fingers won't cooperate, and I will be fully aware of the fact that it's because I'm having an anxiety attack, but can't do a damn thing about it, so I'm just there, frustrated at myself.

But also, because I do CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), it's me going, "I know why I'm upset, however, I cannot control this reaction beyond what I'm already doing." and that makes the part of my brain that doesn't like not having control screech.

I go for long periods of time where my stress/anxiety levels are at, like, a 7/10 from the point I wake up until I go to bed at night.

My head's so screwy sometimes that things that are arguably/actually good happening fucks me up.

Part of it is down to genetics/being born this way, and the rest stems from trauma and the side effects of going through a majority of my life without being dinged as anything other than a functional human being.

Did I have my intelligence questioned a lot because my anxious mind needs to ask for clarity/clear instructions on things other people think are obvious?

Yes.

Did not having the resources set forth to help me learn how to deal with this/having people see me as "normal" but stupid make me want to stop asking questions and just beat me down into a person who just went along with whatever or just do nothing at all?

Also yes.

Sometimes, I wish I had had more help growing up, but I also look at the help I did receive and go, "This wasn't helpful or what I needed." or "Why did they let this person be in charge of x or y when they clearly hated it?"

Stuff like that, ya know.

Mostly, I just think if I had known as a kid what was going on inside of my head/had more words to describe how I felt I might have been better set up to tackle the world around me.

But, then again, I could have also wound up exactly where I am now, and I have to wonder if I'd see that as a grander, much more painful fall than the one I took entering into society.

[ventique18]

Our Dirty Little Secret (1)

The first part of a MalleYuu smutfic.

General warnings: Malleus x Freeform Reader♀️, story told in his POV. Part of a smut series, so minors do not read this fic.

Chapter warnings: bathroom voyeurism

Content under the cut

Pshhhhh

They say the shower is the place where ones' thoughts tend to be sober. The pattering of water against the skin lends to a calming effect that encourages mindful relaxation. The non-existence of urgency helps foster deep thinking of topics close to one's heart, which most of the time entails reflection of the life one currently leads. Perhaps a current dilemma. Perhaps a path one is looking forward to take. Perhaps past regrets begging to be righted.

Pshhhhhh

Yet curiously, my shower thoughts happen to be you.

Squeak squeak, the shower knob screeches as I twist it off.

I suppose the topics I have cited still apply in this case; the subject just happens to be you. One, you were my past regret-- not you, but the way it took me so long to notice my romantic feelings for you. And then your feelings for me, in consequence. Two, you were, and still are, the path I am always eager to take. I would be lying if I said I did not believe I would naturally find the love of my life over the course of my long life, but the way you came at me like a burglar... The way you barged in as if you owned my space, the way you made yourself home and even prepared tea in my metaphorical kitchen, the way you grabbed my hand and fearlessly stayed the night on my bed. The last one was quite literal.

Exhilarating. You are nothing like anything I have ever seen.

My family has always advised me that love is like a slowly kindling campfire. It starts small and takes effort to move forward, but grows ever stronger and bigger so long as you give it fuel. I expected my romance to be just like that: slow and steady. And yet... And yet... With you, it was like an explosion.

So when you held my hand, kissed my lips, and touched my body for the first time-- all in one night, I had felt like helpless ice underneath the bright summer day that was you.

And herein comes three: my dilemma. After that fateful evening together, which was already a month ago, I cannot discourage myself from thinking of you. Every waking moment, every time I dream. Even during mundane moments like eating or even when I need to focus my efforts on weapons training. All you. You. You.

Even in the shower, still you.

And yet... If my thoughts were simply the idea of you, I would not be this bothered. If it were simply your usual smile, and not the way you writhe in ecstasy beneath my touch...

I feel pathetic noticing how the thrill of you physically excites me.

I have been mechanically slathering soap over my body the whole while I've been thinking of you. Now my attention drifts to my hands. Fingers brushing up my arms, dipping into the shallow pool in my clavicle, running down the ridges of my chest and my stomach. Mindlessly, or perhaps mindfully, circling around my navel before trailing the line connecting my abdomen and my thighs. Teasing myself slowly, slowly, downward... And,

"How long do you plan on watching me secretly?"

I breathe out, shifting my head to stare at the innocuous door behind me.

A thick silence greets me. Perhaps a little too thick. And then in stepped you, gaze planted downward like a scolded child, as you reluctantly mumble out an excuse or two.

"How did you know..."

"Did you believe I of all people would not hear the door creaking behind me?"

"But it opened so smoothly, I was shocked it didn't make any noise at all..."

I do not think you are begging for a response, so I merely shake my head. I continue rubbing my skin with soap. While doing my showering routine, I keep my eyes trained on you and keep our conversation going, "So, what brings you here today?"

You shift, seemingly uncertain whether to meet or avoid my eyes, "Just stopping by to hang out. I bumped into Lilia on my way here, and he just urged me in without waiting for your consent. Sorry 'bout that."

"It's quite alright." I nod.

You continue, "You weren't around when I got in, so I thought of maybe waiting. But then I heard the shower going and... And..." Your lips contort into what seems to be a lopsided frown. With brows knit complicatedly, your embarrassed eyes finally dart towards me and you squeal out, "I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what went over me! I just thought that maybe I want a tiny peek of you naked--"

"Ha. Ha ha..." I try to contain myself but the delight in my chest was too overpowering to ignore, "Hahaha!"

A few more bouts of hearty laughter burst out of me before my mood gradually evens. Recovering myself from hunching, I straighten my body and sweep my hair back to move it out of the way of my sight. I feel a tug on my mouth as I narrow my eyes at you, "How naughty. Who would have thought everyone's helpful little prefect is such a dirty woman? Do your friends know?" My playful words curl my lips into a teasing grin, "That you were the one who seduced me that night? In public, behind everyone's backs?"

I see a fog of red paint your cheeks, so I tone down my mischief with a compliment, "Though I would not have it any other way. I find your honesty irresistibly attractive."

I am not quite sure if it is simply my immersion in our conversation that urged me to forget that I am bathing, or that your occasional intentional glances to different parts of my body captivated my attention, but I stop what I am doing and lean against the wall. I keep a daring look on my face as I capture your eyes. Add a light bite to the lower lip to complete the suggestion.

A bit bashful-looking, but you bravely lock your sight with mine, "You should be more honest though. You're always so accommodating and attentive, but..." You look down and pucker your mouth to gesture at my lower half, "I know you want something too."

My attention unconsciously drifts down to where you are pointing at. Ah, my traitorous self, must you always be this easy to please?

"So," You continue with newfound confidence as I heed your voice, "Think about it, pretty boy. I'm down for anything you wanna do," A wink from you and my pathetic desire twitches in anticipation. And another one for when you twirl your hair with a finger as you purr, "I'll be ready and waiting outside."

When the door shuts close, I let out a breath that I did not know I am holding. Something that I want..? Why, there are certainly particular things that I wish to do to you and yet I keep within my fantasies, but how could you have possibly..? Don't tell me, you know..?

Impossible. I've done everything I could to hide it. ... However, if we are to continue this relationship for a long time, if you were to one day accept being my mate, then you deserve to know. But, what if it frightens you-- what will I do then? If you do not accept me...

I turn the shower knob and let it spatter across my skin. I mull it over, again and again, until I finish drying myself off and cover my body with a robe. My thoughts are filled with uncertainty and distress when I walk out of the bathroom. However, as soon as I raise my head and see you sitting on my bed with a thin shirt barely covering your underwear, I realize how much courage it must take you, who normally presents yourself quite modestly, to bare yourself to me like this.

And so I shall too.

My footsteps announce my presence and you greet me with a smile. I sit beside you while I listen to you say, "So, have you thought about it?"

"Yes..." I reply carefully; my hand coyly reaching out for yours, "I would like for that mouth of yours to serve me."

"Blow-- umm, fellatio? That's surprisingly tame--"

"Both of them."

You blink at me in what seems to be confusion, "Both?"

A perverse feeling suddenly overcomes me. I take my hand off yours. My reply does not come fast, for I savor the tense look you give me as you follow wherever my hand trails a path, "You see," I enunciate slowly while I tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

I pause for a moment. My fingers glide from your ear, across your jaw, and feel the velvety smoothness of your bottom lip. They push your mouth open as I thrust in two fingers to rub against your tongue.

"I'm not human, darling."

Part 2 here

[missathlete31]

Dead on Your Feet Chapter 13

Finally a little progress for this story!

Okay so I know it's only 1,200 words but this is the first I've written in months and it makes me happy that I got something out! I can't tell you how much I've been hating everything of mine for the better part of a year. All my confidence was gone because I just compared myself to all the other brilliant writers on here and wondered what the hell was the point. I can't say I completely recovered from that spiral but I'm trying and while I'll never say I'm in the leagues of the other big names in this fandom, I do try and that's all I can ask for.

Here's hoping I can keep the momentum and finish this story before next year.

Ignoring the perfectly good wheelchair that was waiting for them on the carrier’s deck seemed like an excellent idea when Maverick first shouldered all of Bradley’s weight to guide him to medical, but half way to their destination, Pete is seriously kicking himself for once again refusing to do things the easy way. He’s tired, wet, and feeling his age with every laborious step. The physical demands of the task pales in comparison to the emotions; these past few weeks, hell these past few hours, putting him through more than he ever thought possible.

But Pete Mitchell is also stubborn as a mule when he wants to be so the older man just grits his teeth and tugs Rooster along a little quicker.

The pilot in his arms is staggering as well though, whimpers increasing with each added step as they traverse the narrow corridors of the ship. Navy personnel flank them from doorways and stairwells, watching in silence as they pass, some with looks of pride, others just plain shocked. Usually there is a sort of tribalism on a ship that goes well beyond rank; sailors turn their noses on pilots, pilots strut around like cocky little shits, and everyone stays with their own, but that's not the case today- today everyone is on the same team.

His team has done the impossible and the rest of the ship is giving them their due.

It reminds Maverick of a different mission many years ago, one with a far happier ending.

Medical, (besides being farther than Pete remembers as he lugs Bradley along), is in various stages of its own chaos by the time the two men get inside. There is a large commotion on one side of the wing, a scramble to get Seresin stabilized drawing all staff's attention by the yells for blood, plasma, and assistance. Bodies moving give peeks to the pandemonium in front of them and like a train wreck, Maverick finds he can’t look away. A nurse shifts and there is Jake’s arm, listing helplessly off the gurney, what looks like bite marks marring the skin. A doctor turns and darkened blonde hair is sticking out in dishevelment from one side of the bed, something the Captain knows by now would infuriate the vain pilot lying there. He spots Sosa, still taking charge and ordering the others about, his hand gesturing to the bloodied bag of fluids still draining from Hangman’s chest. Vitals loaded up to the monitors start screeching and the whirlwind of motion crescendos, barks of orders vacuuming the air in the room.

Pete’s body reacts faster than even he is prepared for and he tries to manhandle his godson away from what is about to happen, except Rooster’s good leg has become an anchor, planted firmly to the ground and stopping them from moving any further as the Lieutenant stares wide-eyed at the frenzy.

“Bradley” Maverick urges, having enough sense to know that they shouldn’t watch, that they can’t. Memories of the helicopter will forever haunt the older man, he doesn’t need to wait and see another traumatizing medical procedure happen in real time. “Let's get you settled-"

"I need to stay with him, I promised."

"Hangman's in the best hands" Pete explains, "the very best. There's nothing more you can do for him now, besides get yourself looked over so you can be there for him after. That's what Jake will need."

It's bullshit really. What Jake needs is even more blood and an operating table from what Maverick can make out in the incessant calls from the doctors and nurses, but that isn't going to get Bradley to sit on a hospital bed and Maverick's arms can only hold him up for so much longer so he makes do.

He shuffles them to the furthest cot away and then yanks the curtain across as though the thin fabric will protect them from the horrific sounds across the room, a proverbial shelter from the shit storm that is Jake Seresin being given paddles to resuscitate him for the second time.

Maverick holds back the urge to puke as the memories of the helicopter ride come back again and instead works to manhandle his godson to lie back on the bed. Bradley is still resisting though, somehow continuing to torture himself by fighting to get back to his wingman and watch his possible demise. That is until a particularly ominous sounding thud rings out, and the bedlam ceases. In that silence, Rooster seems to stop too, giving his captain the chance to move him towards the bed and all put pushing him down onto it.

Bradley lands on his butt on the mattress and stays planted, a blessing for Maverick who’s own body sags in relief when he moves to take one of the chairs at the bed’s side. Activity has started up again behind their wall of curtain, not quite as loud or insistent as before and Pete surmises that the odds are 50/50 on whether this is a good or bad thing.

Bradley however seems to have taken the pessimistic side. “Is this what it was like” he begins, eyes unfocused and staring at the tile floor in front of him, voice detached in a way that make’s Pete’s still half frozen body feel even colder, “when you held my dad that day? Knowing he was dead and still holding on? Having them wretch him from your grip to now wait for them to come in and tell you it was all for nothing?”

Maverick shudders at the brutal question lobbed his way, the vivid recollections thrown with it. He thinks of the bathroom mirror after they finally forced him out of medical after declaring Goose dead but Pete fine, of a feeling of loathing he still hasn’t completely shaken 30+ years later. If his lifetime of service to his country and fellow man earned him any sort of favor, Pete can only pray that he can use it to prevent Bradley from having to go through what he did. It’s a guilt that will haunt forever. “Hangman isn’t-“ he bites his bottom lip, and forces himself to look at Rooster, even if the other man is still looking away, “Hangman isn’t dead” he manages back weakly, not able to convince himself so he knows he isn't convincing Bradley. Every time he closes his eyes the older man sees the blond lifeless body on the helicopter floor, watches the compressions on the kid's chest, the fight to get him back.

Was it all for nothing?

"Yet" Rooster's voice shakes Pete from his mind, despite only being a whisper. The young pilot's gaze finally meets Maverick’s own, "Hangman isn't dead" the Lieutenant parrots back solemnly, "yet."